ENCOURAGED IN HEART

(For those interested in this series, click here for Part 1 and here for Part 2.)

A few years ago, the Finkster and I took a class at my church to learn how to talk to Muslims about our faith. I took lots of notes and even underlined things.

I won’t lie, it freaked me out because I’m the anti-evangelist (I did not write anti-Christ there).

And then we had a Muslim family move into our ‘hood. Quickly, they became our friends…who happened to be Muslim. (I know I keep “labeling” in this series and I’m doing so just for the purpose of this post!)

Do you know why I know how Muslims evangelize to Christians?

Because I got out of the classroom and into life. I allowed my Muslim friends to evangelize to me. I remember the day when the mother, Dunia, gave me three “tracts” (yup, they have ‘em too!). To be honest with you, it felt kinda weird being on the other side of the tract passing. I thought it was just a Christian thing to pass the paper…something that I’ve never been very good at.

I knew that Dunia loved me, not because I helped her out from time to time, but rather because she risked sharing who she really is…which is a proud Muslim woman with extremely strong family values.

I know Dunia loves me because she tried to convert me.

I must admit, I’ve never been the tract passer-outer-type. I prefer having conversations. While I feel like an evangelism lame-oid, I’ve come to realize I don’t have to be Billy Graham to be effective. (Though it would sure help!)

All I need to be is me. While that last statement leaves me a tad less than inspired, I have to tell you, “me” is all I can be.

I’ve tried the Billy Graham route (minus the thousands of people and dynamic speeches). It never fit me. God didn’t call me to be Billy Graham…He called me to be “Steph Fink”.

I’ve fought countless mental debates whether I was gaining any ground, as if sharing my faith was some type of sports competition with a scoreboard and all.

Dunia has a prophets poster displayed proudly in her dining room. (SCOREBOARD: Muslim Team 1 – Christian Team 0) Ya don’t get points for standing there drooling, Steph. Dunia would point to the poster and state, “Yes, Jesus was a good man…a prophet.” (Muslim Team 2 – Christian Team 0)

I’d say, “He’s not just a prophet, He’s my Savior.” (Muslim Team 2 points – Christian Team 1)

Dunia would then add the prompt “P.S.” that, “Muhammad is the mac-daddy.” Okay, that’s not what she said, but that’s what she meant as she pointed to the spot where Muhammad was listed on her poster, above Jesus. (Note to self: get a Jesus poster put up in our dining room to get some more points up on the scoreboard.)

Mustering up courage, I asked, “Do you speak, read and understand Arabic?” She said she could read it but didn’t understand it. (Muslim Team 2 points – Christian Team 2)

“Well, then how do you know what your God wants?”

Her silence got my team another point.

And surely she noticed my “As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15″ sign on the staircase wall as well as the “A friend loves as all times. Proverbs 17:17″ sign on our the hallway wall. That had to be worth some more points for my team, right?

But then she would list her rules (which intrigued me). During Ramadan she would bring us traditional food over to share in her holiday. (She gets a point on that one – anyone who brings me food, gets points.)

They didn’t have a lawn mower, so I’d mow her grass, somehow looking for a point. I tutored her daughter. (Surely, that’s another point for my team, right?)

We’d enter into more conversations, both somehow looking for points. I’d insert a common ground, that, “God is love”.

“Yes”, she’d agree but contest with, “There’s only one true God.”

I’d agree while only confused her. She’d say how the trinity confused her (heck, me too sometimes…) and in her non-subtle way that I believed in three “gods” – the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

I gave her a point for persistence.

We continued to exit each conversation, disagreeing, but consistently with a hug. (Both team gets a point for the hug.)

It took me some time to realize that it’s not all about “teams” and God is not keeping track of the points, so I figured I’d better stop counting points and just be her friend. That’s it. No spiffy Christian-ese talk. Just be her friend and let the Holy Spirit lead and open opportunities.

Wow, that’s not very complicated…I can be her friend.

About a year later, they moved to another side of town. We rarely see them anymore.

That is until last month. Dunia’s son, Zac, saw me in the school hallway. His eyes and mouth widened with an elated, “Miss Stephanie!” He ran to me with opened arms looking for a big hug. And a big hug is what we gave one another.

I love what Maya Angelou says, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” He may not remember that I mowed his grass some time ago. He may not remember that I tutored his sister or that his Mom and I disagreed on faith principles. But I believe that this young boy knows that Miss Stephanie loves him. He also knows that Miss Stephanie is a Christian. Prayerfully, those two thoughts will melt together and become one reality in his life.

First, have you ever passed out a tract?

Second, what does the word “evangelism” mean to you?

I pled for help…and help is what I received! (That and a TON of laughs! HOLY COW are you gals are a hoot and a half!)

Well, the tribe has voted…and, by a landslide #3 won! I returned tonight from our weekend away in the West Virginian mountains very eager to report to bride Stacey your vote. Stacey will order all the bridesmaids dresses in one swoop this February so we can get a 15% discount.

Yes, she was cracking up that I asked for you to vote. But not surprised…she knows the loon that she’s dealing with!

Well, so far, bridesmaid Christina picked the one shouldered dress, but bridesmaid Wendy also picked #3. So I defaulted to the runner up, #1. And, for your viewing “pleasure” (cough, cough…), I contacted the dress designer, got a whole bunch of spanx, and “the couch”. This picture is just for you lovelies that took the time to cast your vote…

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, I took a couple of artistic liberties…

But I did give Stacey fair enough warning. I told her that a real pic will be posted, with her, right here…after her August wedding! And WOW is her dress gorgeous!

So after my dress is shipped to me, poor Bella has the daunting task to help me get “the girls” lined up (and I do mean UP) and the rest of me as flat as humanly possibly.

Spanx…Gods speed to ya.

Which inappropriately (or appropriately) reminds me of an email that I received moments before typing this post. Maya Angelou spoke about growing older and her body changes. She brought up her “girls” and that, “They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist, first.”

Dr. Angelou, are you free to shop with Bella and I next month some time?

Happy New Year!

I’m surprising myself by not having my first blog post of 2010 be about weight, weight loss, weight gain, the quantity of sugar cookies I ate, goals, lists, lists of goals or heck, just something about Lucy or how she’s on my last nerve.

But no.

Today I choose Amber.  Amber with a dash of Maya Angelou.

Huh?

I ended 2009 with a most surprising contact…compliments of the social networking utility, Facebook.

When Dave and I were stationed in Oklahoma, we lived next door to a civilian family that housed two adorable blond girls.  One daughter in particular, Amber, I was drawn to.  Amber was a tomboy, as I was, with an enormous gifting for smack talking, as I still am!  Not sure that falls neatly into one particular spiritual gift, but it is a gift nonetheless.  And, one thing this Jersey girl knows is some good smack talking , wise guy-ness and well, big hair too. J

For any gals that are confused, smack talking = trash talking.

I met Amber when she was a 70 pound, 11 year old that acted more like a 400 pound 40 year old. She acted large and in charge but was thin as a pin. She still does and I love it! She’s now 100 pounds (soaking wet) and 23! Her heart still is bigger than the frame that houses it.  It appears that both her huge heart and sophisticated smack talking skills are  well intact!

Back in Oklahoma, I was a law enforcement officer that worked insanely long hours.  I was on call all the time and didn’t have a lot of free time or energy.   Oh yeah, I was a newlywed too.   Amber and I got to hang out on weekends and some nights, it wasn’t as much as I hoped to be able to spend with her.

I remember one morning when I geared up for an outdoor run.  Amber saw me and popped her contagiously joyful rail of a frame out of her house and asked if she could come along.   Looking at Amber’s eager smile and bright blue eyes, all I could say was, “Sure!”

And off we went.

It was during this run that Amber vowed to me that when she got to the Olympics (cue: smack talking alert) that she would thank her friend Steph for running with her.  I made her promise right then and there to first thank her Momma , then her bud Steph.

She said, “Deal.”

I said, “Cool beans.”

True to her promise, Amber did call me 11 years later, to thank her bud Steph.  Amber wasn’t in the Olympics as you may think of it.  But the past 11 years, she did go through a very different form of Olympic-level training.  These past 11 years required stamina, pain, stress, fatigue and a commitment to not quit.  Like a true champion, Amber chose to rise up again.

And I’m so proud of her, I can hardly stand it.

In my heart and in truth, she’s wearing the gold ribbon around her neck.  I’m not the only one that thinks Amber rocks.  She had a newspaper article done on her too, because she’s extraordinary and contagiously so.

Today Amber counsels youth in drug and alcohol and is a CNA in an adult detox and rehab facility.

I write this post today to not promote myself but to certainly promote this idea.  We all don’t have a lot of time. But we all can make an impact.  Little seeds can grow big harvests.

I’ll tell you what.

When Amber contacted me, I needed the encouragement.  I’ve been frustrated that I don’t have more than 24 hours in a day and that I’m not doing enough for Christ.  But doing something is just that, something.  Which is a whole lot better than nothing.

Small moments, count.

Even this weekend while away in the mountains of West Virginia, my 7 year old niece asked “Aunt Mo” if she could sit next to me during dinner.  She meant at the kiddie table.  I quickly thought about my chat with Amber and said, “You got it cutie” and dined amongst the short folk (which the Finkster would quickly state are my “people” anyway!)

Small moments, count.

My job titles have changed from college student without a lot of free time, then as a Special Agent without a lot of free time to now wife, mother and writer without a lot of free time…doesn’t matter the season, the whole 24 hours in a day thing is one thing that doesn’t seem to change.  But what can change are the decisions to make what seem to be too little to count investments that can make a difference.

The one thing that Amber said that particularly touched my heart was this.  She didn’t remember that particular run or wise words that I spoke (as if…). She remembered the few trips I took her to work with me (where I handcuffed her and took her mug shot too…hey, a gal’s gotta have fun!).  But most of all, she remembers how she felt…safe.  She remembers talking and chillin’ out on our living room couch.

Me too.

Her words reminded me of a very powerful statement that Maya Angelou made, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Will you choose today to make someone “feel” today?  I know Amber is.  Her life goal is, “to enhance the life of one person every day.”