A Tribute to Beckie

...this woman was abounding with deeds of kindness 

and charity which she continually did. Acts 9:36b

When Peter came to Lydda disciples from Joppa heard he was there and asked him to come to them. They had lost a beloved saint whom they called Dorcas. She was described as “abounding with deeds of kindness and charity which she continually did.” (Acts 9:36b) When Peter arrived in Joppa the widows of that town gathered around him and showed him all the beautiful garments Dorcas had made for them. (Acts 9:39) Dorcas had cared for the “least of these.” She had ministered to Jesus through these needy widows as He had described to His disciples.

Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.’ Then the righteous will answer Him, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’ (Matthew 25:34-40)

The church I attend, a community of believers, lost a Dorcas today. More than that, the community of State College lost a Dorcas. She ministered in the recesses of life, extending grace to those other people overlooked…”the least of these.” Jesus never saw such people - the homeless, imprisoned and impoverished - as least. And neither did Beckie. She saw them through the eyes of Jesus, intrinsically valuable because Jesus saw them that way. Those who knew her would tell you that she gave of herself tirelessly, volunteering full time, giving away what little she had so others might have something. She showed the homeless and those in prison what the love of Jesus looks like in practice. I feel heavily the loss that is seeping from the community of believers who knew of Beckie’s tireless gifts of time for the marginalized. She cared for those so many of us haven’t even made the effort to see.

When I heard that Beckie had passed into the heavenly realm of Jesus her King, I mourned my own loss. Beckie always had kind words and words of encouragement and hope...for me… and for everyone! You couldn’t help but smile when you saw her. She shimmered joy, radiating love and acceptance wherever she went. I will miss those brief interactions. I know I’m not alone! In the two hours since her death was shared on Facebook forty-seven people have left comments about Beckie’s life. Here are just a few.

“I cannot think of a kinder or more generous person than Beckie Romig.”

“Beckie was just a wonderful and loving person.”

“May her beautiful soul rest in peace! She touched many lives in many different places. It was an honor to know her.”

“Beckie was a gift to me and many...both those close to home and around the world. I am thankful for knowing her and seeing her pour out her heart and care in so many ways...truly representing Jesus.”

“She was God’s gift to so many. She served Jesus well and is now rejoicing in His presence.”
My pastor’s wife, Lynn, perhaps had the most comprehensive comment.
A whole community shares your grief over the loss of Beckie...her heart of compassion for everyone she met was a beautiful thing to watch. She loved tirelessly. I know she delighted in her family and her grand kids gave her SO much joy! Praying for God's peace that passes understanding to hold you up. We will grieve, but I'm so thankful that we don't grieve without hope...and I know Beckie would want everyone of us to grasp onto the hope of Jesus, and to love those around us as Beckie loved each one that God put in her path. (emphasis mine)

Beckie’s hope was not found in things temporal, physical or material. Her motivation wasn’t rooted in things that are seen or touched. She loved Jesus fiercely. Though her body was often wracked with pain, she rarely complained, preferring to defer to Jesus. She dances with Him now, I’m sure. She loved well because she had received the love of God well and understood that it wasn’t a thing to be hoarded, but rather, something to share and give away.

Beckie has joined the “great cloud of witnesses” (Hebrews 12:1) She has been for me and will continue to be a hero of the faith. She is glorified even now in the presence of Christ. (Romans 8:30) But it’s not about her and it’s not about the glory in which she revels now. I know she’d say it’s about Jesus! She would encourage us to put aside ourselves and love fiercely… Love Jesus! Love others indiscriminately!

Thank you Papa God for the time that you gave Beckie to this world. Thank You that You wrote her name in Your Book of Life. Thank You that You put Your love in her heart and that she loved so well. I imagine that You are rejoicing over having her home. Help us to grieve well and help us to love well, as she did.

In memory of Bruce...

On Mondays I volunteer at Fraser Street Commons for a couple hours.  The coffee is ground fresh daily so it's actually pretty good, especially when you consider it's free. This, along with free WiFi attracts an array of individuals, but primarily Penn State students and the homeless.   While students may be willing to greet you they are usually preoccupied with their studies and don't usually engage in much conversation.  The homeless, however, are a different story.  They often come in with little more than the clothes on their backs, usually looking for a change of scenery and to get out of either the cold or the heat.  Many days they come in ready to have a conversation with you, small talk mostly.  It frequently consists of complaints about the weather or grumbles about whatever is currently raising their hackles - a sour family relationship, a fight with a friend, the difficulty in getting much needed services.  I can sometimes relate to their angst over relationships gone bad but rarely can I even begin to touch the losses of their lives. I listen for awhile but if I appear too disinterested they move on.

That's not how I remember Bruce though.  I only met the man a couple different times.  He'd come in out of the cold looking for a cup of coffee to warm him up.  After he'd retrieved his coffee and fixed it to his liking he came and stood over me.  He wore a dirty, orange coat that looked as though it must have been cast off from one of the nearby correctional facilities.  His haggard, unshaven face looked worn and ragged.  He didn't seem to be aware that most people prefer an ample amount of personal space, though his proximity to me was less of a problem for me than was the odor emanating from him.  He reeked of sweat and urine.  "What are you reading?" he queried.  I lifted the Bible study I had been working on before he arrived.  "A Bible study in First Peter," I replied simply.  "I lead a group of women on Thursdays," I quickly added.  His face lit up and a smile spread warmly across his weary features.  "I love First Peter.  Grace."  We spoke briefly and knowledgeably of the wonders of God's grace and I wondered how this man had come to reside in the margins of life.

As time went on, it became apparent that there were a number of people in the homeless community who considered him a friend.  One fellow told me that Bruce used to be a teacher - and a good one at that.  I have no way of confirming or denying that piece of information since I never found out Bruce's last name.  I heard tales of how he'd defecate himself when he became upset.  That seemed probable because he smelled as though he had done just that.  He seemed to suffer from some sort of dementia or mental illness, even though he had spoken intelligently with me for a short but full conversation.

Yesterday I found out that a homeless man had died in State College last week.  My heart sunk though I had no idea who the man was.  Somehow I feared it was Bruce.  Today when I went for my shift at Fraser Street Commons and interacted with the homeless who darkened the door I would have known something had happened even if I hadn't heard the bad news.  They mentioned Bruce's name, but not in the friendly way I'd grown accustomed to hearing.  They were upset, hurting.  My heart went out to them as I watched them sit in their misery.  I just didn't know how to relate.  

Yet, this reminds me of how brief life is.  I am reminded of the very text Bruce and I discussed.  Writing to believers who had been scattered through persecution the apostle Paul recollects:

 For through the eternal and living Word of God you have 

been born again. And this “seed” that he planted within 

you can never be destroyed but will live and grow 

inside of you forever. For: 

Human beings are frail and temporary, like grass,

    and the glory of man fleeting

    like blossoms of the field.

    The grass dries and withers and the flowers fall 

And this is the Word that was announced to you!

1 Peter 1:23-25 TPT

If all we have to hope for is in this life only, our existence is shallow at best.  But thankfully God's Living Word is available to everyone.  The grace of which Bruce and I spoke is real.  The Word that was announced to those early believers is the same today as it was then.  There is life beyond the one we can see, hear and touch.  It's substantial.  It's eternal.  It's available.  It  only needs to be believed and received.

Bruce, I hope your knowledge of grace was experiential and not merely informative.  I hope you are being loved in the arms of Jesus right now.  It's the best any of us could ever want.

The Helping Mandate

 True spirituality that is pure in the eyes of our Father 

God is to make a difference in the lives of the orphans, 

and widows in their troubles, and to refuse to be 

corrupted by the world’s values.  James 1:27 TPT

Three days ago I had the privilege of attending the Centre County Orphan Care Alliance (CCOCA) fundraising dinner.  I heard story after story; lives changed through adoption and foster care.  Then two days ago I had lunch with an adoptive mom.  In sharing our stories I was reminded of my own adoption journey and I knew it was time to share that story.

My husband Alan would tell you that the start of our adoption journey actually came before we were married.  I had been told, as a juvenile onset diabetic that it could be very difficult to become pregnant.  When I shared that news with Alan he told me not to worry we could explore adoption if it came to that.  I agreed, relieved that my inability to conceive wouldn't break the relationship.  And so, adoption became Plan B.  As it turns out, I had no troubles conceiving at all.  Our daughter, Kirsten, was born ten months after our wedding.  In my mind Plan B was out the window, no need to even consider it anymore.  Several years later we tried to conceive and had no trouble at all doing so.  Nine months later, after a harrowing delivery, we welcomed our son Andrew into the world.  

We eventually settled into a rhythm, a contented, happy family for the most part.  Adoption was the furthest thing from our mind.  It was a great option for other folks.  We had our perfect little family, or so I thought.  

Here's the thing, what I consider perfect, God often considers lacking.    So often we are content to go about life with an illusion of "the good  life" without even considering that God might have more for us.  That was a pretty accurate description of me in those days.  My family was my life.  I loved my husband and both of my children.  I'd pursued a discovery process that gave me an understanding of what a godly woman should be and I'd put that into practice.  Our home had become a haven.  We were content.

God shook our simple, little life when He arranged for Alan's choir to take an international trip to China.  I say that He arranged it because even though the women in Alan's women's chorale had voted to go to China, I know in looking back that it was all coordinated by God's hand.  While in China we had occasion to visit a number of venues that are fairly well known the world over.  We attended a performance by some Chines acrobats in Beijing; then we visited a martial arts school in Xian.  After each of these experiences the man who had made arrangements for our trip in China would lean in to us and explain that many of the children we had observed and interacted with were orphans.  "In China," he had said, "everyone is expected to contribute.  This is how these children are contributing."  It was a sobering reality; children without a family, children abandoned by a family now living by bringing enjoyment to the lives of others while their eyes told a different story...that of extreme loneliness. 

Perhaps it was their haunting eyes or more likely it was God's use of those eyes to move my heart, but as we boarded our jet to return home I couldn't shake the feeling that we were leaving someone behind.  I told Alan.  He told me he knew that everyone had boarded the plane; I should stop worrying.  And yet that feeling would not dissipate.  It followed me home and into the coming weeks.  I shared this with a friend.  She looked at me and offered these words, "My husband and I have been praying that someone in our church would be moved to adopt internationally, but I never expected it to be you!"  Adoption!!!  It hadn't even occurred to me!  That tells you a lot about where my heart had been back in those days!  But God is able to melt even the iciest of hearts.  I asked my friend to pray with me that God would bring Alan to the same conclusion.  It didn't take long.  He came home for lunch one day and told me he thought God was asking us to pray about something.  When he told me he thought that perhaps God was asking us to adopt I started laughing, which surprised him.  "Why are you laughing?"  It was a valid question.  "Because," I chortled, "your asking this is the answer to that very prayer!"  We sought agreement from Kirsten and Andrew and were met with a resounding "Yes."  As it turns out God had already prepared their soft hearts for His purposes.  And suddenly the discarded Plan B became Plan A.

Adopting from China at that time usually meant a wait of around six months once your paperwork had been completed and logged into China's system.  And it usually meant that if you waited for a healthy child you would receive a girl.  So we entered the process with the expectation that within about a year we would bring home a healthy infant girl.  Once again, God had a different outcome in mind.  The process of adopting from China all of a sudden clogged to a trickle.  No one knew why, but the six month wait extended months and months and months.  After nearly 3 1/2 years of waiting, Alan approached me.  "I think we may be disobedient in waiting for a healthy baby girl," he said, "Any child alive when you felt we were leaving someone behind would now be considered a waiting child."  "You're right,"  I agreed.  And so we went to our adoption agency and entered their waiting child program.  One week later we had a referral!  One week!  God's timing amazes me!!  We were stunned to discover that the referral was for a boy.  Normally a prospective adoptive parent has little more than 24 hours to agree to commit to a child in a referral.  Because it was right before a holiday we wound up with four days.  Another God thing!!  Alan and Andrew were quick to accept this little boy.  Kirsten and I were more reticent.  Kirsten had spent two years journaling to a sister.  I was in shock!  But eventually God's gentle caressing of our hearts brought us in line with His good plan.

Within five months we were in China again.  And when we returned, we brought home a new son.  Jadon was eight, having been assigned a birthday based upon his entry into the orphanage in China.  The Chinese don't put a lot of weight on birthdays.  The assignment of a birthday was more for the Westerners who tend to adopt these "throw away" kids.

We were ill-prepared for the issues that often come with the adoption of older children.  This may have been because we entered the process with the expectation of bringing home a baby.  Whatever the reason the parenting skills that had applied to our birth children did not seem to apply to our Jadon.  He was sneaky and deceptive and we had no idea how to manage such behaviors in a child that we could barely communicate with.  That first year home with him was the hardest year of our lives.

Jadon has been with us almost nine years now.  My heart has become completely transformed.  I now look at James' admonition "true spirituality that is pure in the eyes of our Father God is to make a difference in the lives of the orphans, and widows in their troubles" (James 1:27a) with a renewed heart.  This is not an option.  Every believer is called to this mandate.  Not everyone is called to adopt.  Not everyone is called to foster children.  But every person who identifies with Christ as Savior has a responsibility to take care of the most vulnerable among us.  In Jesus' day the orphan and widow (specifically a woman who had lost her husband and had very few rights without him) represented the most vulnerable population at that time.  Today those populations might also include human trafficking victims, the homeless and the mentally ill.  When God places someone in this category on your path He expects you to respond with generosity and kindness.

At the CCOCA dinner I discovered that just for the fatherless population in our community here in Centre County, Pennsylvania there are a variety of ways you can be involved.  Of course the obvious way would be to foster or adopt a child.  But just because that's not your calling doesn't automatically exclude you from the process!!  Children need mentors, fostering and adoptive families can always use an extra pair of hands to help out or a pair of ears to merely listen and encourage, along with a host of other supportive means.  

Perhaps you don't feel you are called to help children.  No problem.  There are plenty of opportunities if you just look.  That grouchy, older neighbor maybe just needs a friendly "hello" and a few minutes to chat.  The homeless pervade nearly every urban community across the United States.  Centre County Pennsylvania is no exception.  Out of the Cold is an association of churches working together to provide a hot meal and a warm place to sleep during the six coldest months of the year - no strings attached.  Dozens of volunteers are needed as well as basic necessities that can help ease some common hardships the homeless face.  My daughter used to drive around Chicago with boxes of granola bars to hand out to the homeless, a reason for life-giving interactions that gave them some dignity.  Bus tokens are also helpful when you run into someone who is homeless.  Organizations like the International Justice Mission serve to help free thousands of the millions held in bondage today all over the world.  

There are more places to become involved but you often must intentionally look.  If you profess faith in Jesus Christ then the mission of these organizations must necessarily become your mission too.  At the very least you can pray.  I've provided you the links so you visit some of these organizations.  Get involved.  The more I study Scripture the more I am convinced that standing on the sideline and watching as millions of disadvantaged and vulnerable suffer is the same as turning one's back on Jesus.  Whereas reaching out with even simple kindnesses and love to those who have met unfortunate and formidable circumstances delivers love and kindness to Jesus.  I leave you with Jesus' own words:

Then the King will turn to those on his right and 

say, ‘You have a special place in my Father’s

 heart. Come and experience the full inheritance 

of the kingdom realm that has been destined for 

you from before the foundation of the world! For 

when you saw me hungry, you fed me. When you

 found me thirsty, you gave me something to drink. 

When I had no place to stay, you invited me in, and 

when I was poorly clothed, you covered me. When

 I was sick, you tenderly cared for me, and when 

I was in prison you visited me.’  Matthew 25:34-36 TPT