I’m not there

amandasims —  May 22, 2013 — Leave a comment

Though I live in Alabama, I am on staff at LifeChurch.tv, a church based in Oklahoma. My friends and colleagues there are like family. I have been to that great city at least 30 times in the past 4 years, and it is a second home to me.

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I watched the live stream of KFOR, an Oklahoma City news station, as the tornado ripped it’s way through Moore. I saw footage of  survivors embracing to comfort and encourage one another. I’ve read countless posts explaining how people can help those who are facing such devastation.

I’m not there.

I’m not there to be with my friends, to share their burden, to show up and pitch in and make a difference. I’m not there to help clean up the cemetery where those sweet children will be buried. I’m not there to help organize the tons of supplies that are being donated every day. I’m not there to help care for the people who don’t know what they’re going to eat or where they’re going to sleep.

I’m not there. And it breaks my heart.

I’m here in Alabama, over 800 miles away. But I’m doing what I can.

I’m offering encouragement to friends and colleagues who’ve been impacted.

I’m sharing all the information I can through as many channels as I can about how people can help.

I’m giving to help the relief efforts being organized by our church.

I’m praying with every breath for the survivors, the emergency workers, and the volunteers.

Yes, it’s true, I’m not there. But I can make a difference.

And so can you.

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Traffic Stop Grace

amandasims —  May 7, 2013 — Leave a comment

As soon as I saw the police car, I knew he had me.

police-lights

I was driving my husband Paul to work (which happens sometimes as a 1-car family), and a long lunch stop left us running behind. I wasn’t paying attention and missed the sign indicating the 25 MPH speed limit. I was going a lot faster than that.

I wasn’t even past him when I saw him moving to pull out behind me. By the time his lights went on, I was already at the curb. He came to the window, introduced himself and explained why he “contacted” me (yes, he said “contacted”). He asked for the usual paperwork, and as he walked back to his patrol car with my license and proof of insurance, I sighed. I was in for a ticket – possibly a big one.

We waited and waited while the officer sat in his car, doing whatever it is officers do during that time. After what felt like forever, he emerged and I felt a glimpse of hope. There was no ticket book in his hand – just my documents. Could I really be so lucky?

He apologized for the wait, saying that the reason he took so long was that he was checking my driving record. He said that since I had a relatively clean record, he was going to let me off with just a warning to slow down and pay attention. I thanked him for his grace, assured him that I would indeed be more mindful of the speed limit and keep it in check.

Paul and I breathed a collective sigh of relief as he dismissed us. We thought back to when I last had a ticket – it was certainly more than 5 years and in a different state. I was so grateful for the grace I’d received.

The thing is, that isn’t grace at all. Sure, it’s a gift, and it’s mercy, but it’s definitely not grace.

It’s such a good thing that God doesn’t check to see if my recent behavior is good enough to outweigh my current infraction. Let me tell you, if it worked like that, I’d have no hope of getting off with a warning.

Grace doesn’t come from good behavior. It comes because God is good, and He chooses to give it in spite of my bad choices. It comes because Jesus paid the “ticket” for me. I will never be good enough for grace.

I’m so glad I don’t have to be.

But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. – Titus 3:4-5a NIV

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It’s Still There

amandasims —  May 1, 2013 — Leave a comment

The weather was horrible, and I was nervous. Flying through storms hardly makes for a comfortable, relaxing trip. Take off was bumpy, and though I consider myself a fairly seasoned traveler, I found myself gripping the armrests as we made our ascent.

Not long after we heard the telltale “ding” alerting us that we’d reached cruising altitude, I glanced out the window and was relieved to see sunshine. I breathed a sigh of relief and willed my shoulder muscles to loosen. No more bumps, no more shakes – at least until landing.

It wasn’t that the sun had finally arrived. It’s that it was finally visible. It had been there the whole time, shining brightly above the dark clouds of the ominous thunder storm. I’d simply moved to a place where I could see it. And let’s be real – even before we rose above the clouds, I could still see it’s impact. After all, it was daytime, and though it was a bit dark outside, it was not the pitch black of night.

Sometimes I find myself in a place where, for all my seeking, I can’t see God. I look in all the usual ways, hoping to catch a glimpse. If I’m really paying attention, and willing to seek Him in ways I haven’t before, for just a moment I’ll get a peek. Those moments are precious.

God doesn’t go away. He’s there, even when I’m as sure as I can be that He’s gone. No matter how dark, stormy, and rocky life gets, I’m not alone. Ever. This is a promise from Hebrews 13:5 MSG:

Don’t be obsessed with getting more material things. Be relaxed with what you have. Since God assured us, “I’ll never let you down, never walk off and leave you,” we can boldly quote,

God is there, ready to help; I’m fearless no matter what. Who or what can get to me?

The next time there’s a storm, I’ll look up at the clouds, and I’ll smile. The sun is still up there.

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A Vulnerable Jump

Amanda Sims —  February 14, 2013 — 1 Comment

There’s a new opportunity in the distance. It glows with wonder and mystery. It draws me in and my breath quickens with my pace as I approach. The possibility of something fresh stirs my heart. The closer I get, the more details I see. No, not jus…

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I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Amanda Sims —  January 25, 2013 — 1 Comment

I was supposed to be at home, preparing for the birth of our second child. I was supposed to be wide and waddling, waist deep in new baby gear. Instead, I’m sitting in a hotel room in Chisinau, Moldova and I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the p…

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Missing Role Models

Amanda Sims —  January 24, 2013 — 1 Comment

I want you to meet someone. Two someones, actually. This is Sergei and Peter. They work with Beginning of Life in their School Prevention program. They go into schools in Chisinau and talk with students about a variety of topics: domestic violence…

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Future Moldova and Whispers of Hope

Amanda Sims —  January 23, 2013 — Leave a comment

When I was in high school and my friends and I would talk about our dreams for the future, almost no one mentioned wanting to leave the United States and live abroad. Maybe they considered international travel, but it was always understood that ul…

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More than Grey

Amanda Sims —  January 22, 2013 — 1 Comment

If I were do a painting to express what I experienced today in Moldova, I’d begin by dipping my brush into the grey. And that’s not just about the weather. It’s the things I saw. The stories I heard. The hopelessness I encountered. At times it was…

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Why I Go

Amanda Sims —  January 20, 2013 — Leave a comment

It’s not because I’m especially gifted. I’m not.It isn’t pressure or guilt.It’s not because I’m the only one who can. After all, you can too!It isn’t that I have all the answers – I certainly don’t.It isn’t even because of the people on the team. …

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What being vulnerable looks like.

Amanda Sims —  January 17, 2013 — 1 Comment

Tearing down walls. Choosing grace over bitterness. Removing the mask and being seen. Stepping out of the wings and onto the stage. Speaking when silence is easier. Taking a risk and having an adventure. All this is just a taste of what being vuln…

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