Brenda Rodgers

Category: community

As girl moms, it’s important that we continue to grow ourselves becoming more like Jesus and of course stronger in who we are in Him. One part of growth is being strong in our community relationships.

  • My Disguise of Serving in Africa

    In less than two weeks I leave for Burkina Faso, West Africa. 
    I am told the experience is going to change my life.  Or at least my perspective on life.
    That scares me. 
    Several months ago I sat in church and saw the video clip inviting people to join the team going back to Burkina Faso.  My heart started beating fast.  I knew right then the invitation was for me, and it wasn’t from the church.  It was from God himself. 
    I cried and I ignored.  Then I cried some more.  I didn’t want to go to Africa.  But God told me it was the Way – the way he wanted to answer my prayer.  That prayer that I ask so often for him to make me like himself. 
    So I am going to Africa to be like Jesus.  Jesus was a servant.  So I am going to serve.  To bring hope. To give life. To show relief.  To be a savior. 
    Or am I?
    The people I will meet have no running water.  They sleep in huts.  They cook in a pot outside.  They have never seen themselves in a mirror.  They have never seen a mirror. 

    Compared to me they are beyond poverty. 
    “Tell me they don’t know.  Tell me they’re oblivious.  Tell me they’re happy”, I said as I looked at picture after picture of the people there.
    “They are happier than you are or ever will be”, was the response.
    And yet they have joy.  And I sit hear in my warm house, in perfect health, with food busting from the refrigerator.  Consumed. Worried. Tired. Stressed. Miserable. 
    In a podcast I listened to this past weekend from Craig Groeschel he said this, “You want to know that you’re in need? Go to a third world country.  You feel good about yourself for a while.  For a couple of days you hurt with them, hurt for them, and then something switches along the way.  And suddenly you realize the more I do for them, the more they’re doing for me.  The more I give to them, the more I’m receiving in some crazy way I didn’t expect. Then one day you wake up and say, wait just a second.  They’re financially broke and empty, but they have something I don’t have.  You see the strangest joy in the middle of nowhere.  They have nothing and seem to have everything.  And you realize I’m in need, too.  We’re mutually in need, and we both need God.” summarized from Craig Groeschel’s sermon “Those People Part 1: Those Overly Needy People”
    God is sending me to help the needy as a disguise.  A mask shows a needless woman’s face going to the other side of the world to share her needlessness with the needy.    
    God’s intention is to strip back that mask and reveal that I am the needy.  I am the broken.  I am the impoverished.  I need the Savior.
    My culture puts the world at my disposal.  But joy is still lost in the abundance. 
    I am not going to serve the needy.  I am the needy going to relish in a joy I do not know.    

    “But as for me, I am poor and needy; please hurry to my aid, O God. You are my helper and my savior; O LORD, do not delay.” Psalm 70:5



  • Being Fed By One Who Needs Feeding

    Last spring I “Got Off the Ferris Wheel” and quit my teaching job.  So as I pursue what God really wants me to be doing, I am substitute teaching.  Yesterday was my first day.

    Now, I have taught school for twelve years, but yesterday was quite possibly the first day I have ever felt like I was supposed to be there.

    And I didn’t teach one thing.

    Monday night I scrolled through the substitute teaching positions available for the next day, and I came across one for a high-schooler who has special needs and will need help getting his materials out of his book bag and onto his desk, and he will need someone to feed him.  This was out of my comfort zone.  I taught elementary school, and I have never felt, what you would say, “called” to work with special needs children. 

    I immediately put my phone down and with it any thought of taking this job.  Except that the thought kept jumping back up at me.  I looked again at the position.  I put my phone down.  I picked it up again, and read it one more time.  Then I put it down again.  This continued several times and so did the pounding in my chest.

    Why am I afraid to take this substitute teaching job?

    Then His thoughts began to answer, and they became mine. 

    • Jesus loved everyone.  Took care of everyone. Treated everyone with respect.
    • This teenage boy deserves someone to want to know him – to spend time with him.
    • Jesus is enough for this.  Do you not believe He will give you everything you need?
    • Don’t treat him like a leper.  Love him. Embrace him.  Just as he is.
    • This is a child of God just like you.

    So I took the job.  And I prayed all night and all morning. 

    When I got to the high school I met a young man.  A young man who has more wisdom and understands this world and eternity better than anyone I have ever met.

    This young man was born with Arthrogryposis, a congenital disorder that affects the joints and muscles.  One in 5,000 children are born with this disease.  He is in a motorized wheelchair.  He operates it with his chin.  He wears a head brace with a long pointer when he needs to type on the computer.

    As I spent the day with him, I met a young man who sees life the way we were meant to see it. 

    He shared his story with me.  He shared his heart with me.  And these are a few things I heard:

    • Even if there was a cure for my disease, I don’t think I would want it. 
    • I don’t know why people pity me because I am so happy.
    • They keep telling me that I’m going to die by such-and-such a date, and I don’t know why.  I’m not dying yet.
    • I choose to see all that I am and can do. 
    • I want to use my story and share it with other people.

    We talked about Jesus.  We talked about prayer.  We talked about when in Heaven things will be perfect.

    This young man told me about life with a perspective I don’t know if I’ll ever have.  And yesterday he fed me more than I could have ever fed him.  The blessing was mine, and God led me there because I still have so much to learn. 

    Continue, O Lord,
    to make me a servant,
    and help me to see people the way you see them
    and life the way you intended it to be seen.

      When have you received an unexpected blessing after being obedient or when have you been blessed by an unexpected person?

    • Meet Our New Child

      I am pleased to introduce you to Kabore Blandine, our new child through Compassion! 

      • Blandine lives in Burkina Faso, West Africa.
      • She will be 13 in December.
      • Blandine helps her family by running errands and helping in the kitchen.
      • She like to sing, jump rope, and play group games.

      This is our first Compassion sponsorship, so I was so surprised when I literally looked through dozens of children’s pictures who need sponsorship (and I was told there is actually hundreds)!

      I chose Blandine because she is older, and I thought it would be good for her to get assistance from Compassion before she becomes an adult.  Also, she wasn’t smiling and looked sad!  I was also told that a lot of times they have never seen a picture of themselves or had their picture taken, so they don’t know to smile.

      The best thing about the whole experience is knowing that I am going to get to meet Blandine in November when I go on my mission trip to Burkina Faso! 

      We will be going to a Compassion site, and I can’t wait to meet her!

      Please join me in praying for Blandine, for all the Compassion children around the world, and all the children in the world who are impoverished.  They need our prayers!

    • Are the people in Burkina Faso happy?

      So. . . I am going to Burkina Faso, West Africa the day after Thanksgiving.  It will be my first mission trip.

      After seeing the word on the screen and then much rationalizing, fretting, crying, and fasting, God told me to apply for the trip, and my teenage prayer went unanswered.

      The only way I have grown to be o.k. with it is through the realization that my unanswered teenage prayer is my answered adult prayer, which leaves me amazed at God’s workings and His good in all things.
      __________________________________________________________________________________________

      A few weeks ago I walked into our first meeting about the trip with my eyes just as big as when I read the email that I was a part of the team going and with a heart just as full with fear, anxiety, and uncertainty.  I was fighting back tears.

      I immediately began to learn about the logistics of the trip – what we’ll wear, where we’ll sleep, what we’ll eat. 

      Then, I heard about the people in Burkina Faso along with their culture and their needs. 

      • The people are known as the Burkinabe. 
      • Their primary language is French (which I found interesting). 
      • Burkina Faso is one of the poorest countries in the world and has one of the highest illiteracy rates in the world. 
      • And one in three children die before the age of ten.

      For one or two nights we will sleep out in the bush.  We will sleep outside, and we will eat the meals that the Burkinabe women make for their family.  This is where we will help build a hanger to be used as a church, and this is also where wells are built so that there can be fresh water close to where the Burkinabe live.

      As the meeting wrapped up I began to hear about what it feels to be in a third world country, as an American, who in comparison has the world right here in my hands.  I watched a slide show with pictures of children and women and outdoor kitchens and huts.

      My mind was full.  “Please, just please tell me they’re happy.  Tell me they don’t know.  Tell me they don’t know the difference”, I thought as I sat there seeing slide after slide.

      So I asked, “Are the people in Burkina Faso happy?”

      The answer . . . “They are happier than anyone in this room.”

      If they are happier than I am, then what kind of happiness is mine?

      Is my happiness a facade covered up by convenience and objects and security and health?


      Is it possible for me to ever have their happiness – a happiness where every day you wake up and go about your daily tasks just to feed yourself – just to stay alive?


      Or the kind of happiness that you have despite knowing that your child may very likely die before the age of ten?

      Or the kind of happiness that when you ask a Burkinabe child, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”, he replies, “I want to be a doctor so that I can come back home to Burkina Faso and help my people.”

      I suspect that their source of their happiness comes from a deep appreciation for things that give life and receive life. I don’t seek happiness in these things.  I seek happiness in things that don’t give life – in things that prevent me from experiencing the abundant life.

      This is why God is sending me to Burkina Faso.  

      My mind cannot wrap itself around this kind of happiness.  And until I get a glimpse of it, I will never understand all that God has in store for me.  I will never understand His heart.

      You may enjoy reading my story to Burkina Faso from the beginning:


      Please join me in praying for the people in Burkina Faso, West Africa and read more about Engage Burkina here.

      Do you think you have the same kind of happiness as the people in Burkina Faso?


    • An African Boy Who Wanted Just One Verse

      Have you ever thought about what it would be like if there were no
       Bibles in a language that you could understand?

       

      Right now one-third of people groups in the world still do not have
       God’s Word in their language.

      Read my fictional story below about a young African boy who only wanted 
      One Verse. 

      Then, help end Bible poverty by giving children such as this just
       One Verse translated in a language they can understand. 

      The young, African boy peaked his head around the side opening of his hut. As the early morning warmth from his Creator soaked into his face, he picked up a small tin pail and set out to get water for his family’s early morning meal.
      

      Just One Verse at a time

      Walking along the Creator’s presence wrapped around him through fierce wind like he was a package getting ready to be sent away. He trotted on imagining what it would be like to be swept up by the wind. Lost in his thoughts, he caught a glimpse of something move. It was from the corner of his eye, almost behind him. Then it caught up and passed him, swirling and turning high in the wind’s grip. The boy began to run to catch up to it, his pail bouncing side-to-side clanging against his leg. What is it? What is it? He could not tell. 

      that’s all it takes

      As the wind settled he moved in closer. It was almost at arm’s reach. It was a page – a page from that big book the pastor held in his hand a few days ago under the hanger. The wind started up again and carried the page further whipping and swirling, high and low, high and low, so that the boy could not get it. “One verse”, he thought. “Just one verse. If only I had one verse.”

      Finally the wind settled again and the page landed calmly on the ground. The boy reached out his foot to hold it in place. Picking up the page he looked at it, and his head immediately drooped low. Only one verse. But the words he did not know.

      As julle heelhartig na My soek, sal julle My vind.
      (Jeremia 29:13 NLV)

      “If only I had one verse, then I could feel my Creator’s warmth and strength through His Word.”

      to bring the Word of God

      The next morning the boy set out just like the day before. Except on this day his Creator was in the rain that fell from the sky. Soft and steady the rain fell, and the boy turned his head towards Heaven and gave thanks for the earth’s nutrition. After walking almost a mile the rain slowed to a trickle, and the boy sat down for a rest under a bush. He glanced at the dirt around him still packed tight despite the moisture from the rain, and looking to his right he saw something similar to the day before – another page from that big book the pastor held in his hand. The boy picked up the paper still damp and a little smudged, but maybe this time, just maybe. “Only one verse is all I need.” So he pierced closely at the words on the page, and this is what he saw.

      Ek het hulle lief wat my liefhet. Hulle wat na my soek, sal my kry.
       (Spreuke 8:17 NLV)

      He was so close two days in a row. The young boy stood up, discouraged and sad, and continued his journey taking the page with him. “Maybe one day I will have just one verse.”
       

      to children

      The next morning came just as quickly as the day before. The young boy set out on his daily trek for water at the well. Today His Creator was in thick, soupy mud that stuck to his sandals as he walked. He was so grateful for the rain from the day before. As he walked along the familiar path he saw something white sticking out of the mud. Excitement overtook him. “Maybe, just maybe, this will be it, and I will get one verse from my Creator.”

      He walked over to the page and slowly pulled it out of the mud. The young boy sat down and cried. All he wanted was one verse. One verse from the mouth of his Creator, the Creator he sees in the sun and the wind and the rain and the mud. The Creator that gives him hope. Just one verse. Just one verse from God. But again this is what he saw.

      Die Here kyk neer vanuit die hemel op die hele mensegeslag om te sien of daar één verstandige is, één wat vir God soek.
      (Psalm 14:2 NLV)

      

      who otherwise may never read It.

      That evening the boy was ready to sleep for the night. He looked out of the opening of his hut and saw the moon reflecting all the glory from the day. He knew his Creator made that moon, but he wanted so desperately to read His Word.
      The boy went back inside the hut and took out the three pages he found over the last several days. He put them on his cot, one beside the other, and stared at the message they held. His eyes opened wide. He could not believe what he saw. Words he could understand.

      You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.
       (Jeremiah 29:13 NIV)
      I love those who love me, and those who seek me find me.
       (Proverbs 8:17 NIV)
      The Lord looks down from heaven on all mankind to see if there are any who understand, any who seek God.
      (Psalm 14:2 NIV)

      One verse, that is all he prayed,
      and God delivered him three.
      Please partner with One Verse, a program of The Seed Company, that helps to translate the Bible into different languages and end Bible poverty.
      A gift of $26 gives the resources necessary to translate one verse of scripture into a new language.
      Photo Credit:  All photos came from One Verse. 
      *These ideas are my own, and I was not compensated in any way for them.

    • The {Un}Answered Teenage Prayer

      The application for the Africa mission trip was due on Tuesday. It was Friday, and I still had not looked at it. I was driving with both hands on the steering wheel and my heart was beating so fast it felt like I could just reach in and grab it. I knew the deadline was close. I knew I had to make a decision.

      When I first saw the Word on the screen at church several Sundays before, God took me back to my teenage self. I remembered a prayer that I prayed as a seventeen year old girl. I don’t know what made me pray this prayer exactly except that back then I wanted nothing more than to be like everyone else. I didn’t want to be different, even though I knew I was, and I tried really, really hard to live both lives – the Jesus life and the world life. So I prayed this prayer in these words:

      “God, whatever you do, please don’t make me a missionary. I do not want to go to Africa.”

      I never thought any more about it.

      Eighteen years later I still want to be like everyone else. I don’t enjoy being different. But my heart falls more in love with Jesus the more time I spend with Him, and about five years ago I began praying another prayer that I have continued to pray up until now.

      “God, do whatever you have to do. Break me however you need to. But please use my life for something big to bring You glory.”

      So the Friday before the application was due I sat in my car and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

      I did not want to go to Africa.

      What would I eat? Where would I sleep? What if I get hurt? What if I die?

      Then the real question slowly poked up through all of the surface words.

      What if I’m changed? What if I come back different?

      Putting the superficial fears aside, it came down to this. I am afraid of being changed. I am afraid of being different. And I know that there is no way of escaping it. I cannot go to a country and see God’s world, His people, people He loves, through His eyes, and not be changed. I still want to be like everyone else.

      Later that day I went home, sat down, and began writing my application. The words came up out of me and my heart poured onto the pages. This is what came out:

      “I do not know how I can help people who are in need of so much. But I do know that I ask God continually to fully sanctify me so that I can serve Him wholly and completely. I want to see the world and people the way He sees them. I want perspective like His. I ask for this so that I can fully love people in my every day life like He has called me to love them, so I can serve people like He wants me to serve them, and so that I can continue to have an eternal focus.”

      God is sending me to Africa to answer my prayer.

      Has God ever allowed something to happen in your live that you didn’t expect in order to answer a deep,  heart prayer?