New blogging site

I decided to start blogging through Wordpress, so from now on, follow along here: http://danabrux.wordpress.com/

See you there!

Learning Gratefulness

I'm learning to be thankful.

I wouldn't say I'm a particularly ungrateful person, but neither do I make a practice of being particularly thankful. But really, when I open my eyes wide and stop focusing on the so-called "bad" parts of my day, there are countless blessings I encounter on a regular basis.

As Brennan Manning writes, "The grateful heart cries out each morning, 'Thank you, Lord, for the gift of a new day.'"

So as I've been trying to be more aware and be better at living in the present, I've been trying to practice gratefulness.

Here goes.

Things I've been thankful for this week:

-Meeting my friend from the train - the one I always said hello to each morning, remember? His name is Jay, he's probably in his 40s, and he works in the office building next to mine. We walk to work together from our train stop. I like him a lot. He reminds me of my dad. 

-Getting to know the other interns at work. They make me laugh so often. Paul and Kate, in particular, are great at making me feel really appreciated. I, in turn, keep them from pulling their hair out when they're stressed. It's a mutually beneficial relationship.

-Getting to travel to Kansas City with my boyfriend's band and worship with them last Sunday morning. (Have I mentioned yet that he's a rock star? Yep. It's true. You should totally listen to his music. Sorry, shameless plug, I know.)

-Spending time with one of my dearest friends while I was in KC. 

-Soy lattes (major weakness)

-Phone calls with good friends from school and old friends from home.

-Finding my favorite cooking blog ever.

-Making zucchini quinoa lasagna from a recipe found on said cooking blog. Yes, it was delicious. And healthy. And gluten-free. And vegetarian. And yes, I'll give you the recipe if you ask.

-My niece, who is growing like a weed. She has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks of any 5 lb baby you've ever seen.
-Emailing back and forth with my friend Grace (she'll be in Thailand for a year, starting in August) and getting excited about being halfway around the world and having adventures together. Also realized that emotionally, we're in a lot of the same places about how we're anticipating our experiences, which was encouraging.
-Anticipating my college roommate's visit to St. Louis to see me....TODAY!

What's on your list? 

"The root of joy is gratefulness. It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful." Brother David Steindl-Rast

Meet the Parents

My day started with a phone call to my dad. Well, actually, it started at with a cup of coffee and my Bible (the two go so well together), and then a call to dad. But that's beside the point. Anyway, my conversation with my dad got me thinking that it's time to introduce you to two of the most important people in my life.

Meet my parents:

Aren't they cute?

I didn't tell them I was writing a post about them (sorry mom and dad!), so hopefully they're okay with this.

My parents each have lots of great qualities. And I think I received perhaps the most interesting combination of their genes -- a combination that sometimes manifests itself in less than ideal ways. Read on, you'll understand.

-For starters, people look at me and immediately know I'm a Bruxvoort. It's the eyes...or something like that. I got my mom's petite build, though. Except for my legs. She likes to point out that I have my father's legs (read: runner's thighs). So I'm this mix of Bruxvoort/De Ronde all rolled up into one little Dutch girl who has a hard time finding jeans that fit. 

-I got my mom's Type A personality, but my dad's more emotional and passionate outlook on things. Believe me, both of those qualities are great on each of them individually, but together, they can be dangerous.

-I got my mom's musical appreciation and (I used to think) my dad's athleticism. Now I realize that I'm not really that athletic. I just run. Because running doesn't require much coordination (although I have almost fallen on a treadmill...more than once). 

All that aside, I should tell you why my parents are so great.

They are hardworking, selfless and generous. They loved me, my brother and sister in a way that so many kids never knew from their parents. I took an Attachment Theory class last fall (maybe my favorite class of all time) and realized just how privileged I was in regard to how unconditionally and steadfastly my parents cared for me. They nurtured and loved me through years that probably weren't always enjoyable (I was a pretty unpleasant baby and eventually turned into an extremely awkward and annoying preteen. Believe me, they have the home videos to prove it, and like to use them as blackmail material). They've had unending patience with me.

My mom and dad have always been my biggest cheerleaders. They've allowed me to make my own decisions (good or bad), and loved me through the outcomes. They've believed in me in a way that I can't even begin to thank them for. At one point in my college years -- I think I was nursing a broken heart at the time -- I remembering having the most meaningful conversation I've ever had with my dad. He may not even remember it, but I'll never forget his words. As I mourned what I thought was lost love, he held me and told me he loved me. He told me how great he thought I was. He told me what he saw for my future. He told me he thought I would do great things someday, and to not let anything hold me back. He told me he was proud of me. He gave me freedom to be different. To do go different places and do different things. To dream really big. To chase my dreams and passions wherever they would lead me.

It may be hard to find a man who can learn to love me as much as my dad loves me.

As I meander my way into adulthood, I've started to appreciate my parents in new ways. I may like to think I'm independent and self-reliant, but the truth is, I still need their wisdom and support more than ever before.

In case it's not obvious to you yet, I love my parents. I am so blessed.

Thanks mom and dad, for seeing me through 22 years of life. I'll never outgrow the need for you.

"But he loved."

I just finished reading Ruthless Trust by Brennan Manning. It's the sequel to The Ragamuffin Gospel, which I am currently reading.

I know, you shouldn't read the sequel first. My bad.

The book challenged me a lot of ways, gave me a lot to think about. It will probably color my thoughts in this blog for awhile, but for now, I just want to share one particular image I can't get out of my head.

At one point in the book, Manning shared an excerpt from a writer named Robert Johnson. In this excerpt, Johnson is writing about a vision he had in which his soul was on trial. Read this slowly, and let yourself really envision this scene:

"A prosecutor presented all the sins of commission and omission that I was responsible for throughout my life, and the list was very long indeed. That went on for hours, and it fell on me like a landslide. I was feeling worse and worse to the point where the soles of my feet were hot. After hours of accusations from the prosecution, a group of angels appeared to conduct my defense. All they could say was, "But he loved." They began chanting this over and over in a chorus: 'But he loved. But he loved. But he loved.' This continued until dawn, and in the end, the angels won, and I was safe."

I need to learn to love better than I do now.

Because love covers a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8).  And love is the fulfillment of the law (Romans 13:10).

Because at the end of my life, I want the angels to be able to say, "But she loved."

Yesterday and Tomorrow

I have this tendency to either dwell in the past or the future -- to think about what happened yesterday or worry about what will happen tomorrow (or next week, month or year).

I've been learning what it means to live in the present.

Living in the present means being aware, being attuned to the here and now. It means appreciating this very moment, being grateful for today instead of thinking about my yesterdays or planning my tomorrows. It's a realization that by living in the past or the future, I miss out on so many beautiful moments of today.

So, I'm trying to be better at this. Try with me?

Things I've been mindfully aware of in the past 24 hours:
My four-year-old cousin Joshua's happy cry of, "Miss Dana's home!"
An encouraging text message from a dear friend
The taste of coffee
The morning sun as I drove to the train station
The happiness of a friend who finished taking her nursing exam
Laughter at lunch with my fellow interns
Eating a plum for the first time
A meaningful chapter in a good book
The soreness in my arms after kickboxing class
The feel of sticky Missouri humidity on my skin
The laughter of little boys as they play with their new toys

Days are so much more full when I savor these moments, when I dwell in the purpose of today.

I was recently reminded by a dear friend that the Lord gives us grace only for the present moment. By living in today's grace, we are saying, "Lord, I take hold of You today, trusting and knowing that you will again pour out the grace I will need tomorrow."

Give us today our daily bread.

At the Lake

Hello from Lake of the Ozarks!

This is quite possibly my favorite place in the world.

Oh, I know there are more interesting places, more beautiful places to be. And I like all those places in different ways. But this lake is maybe one of the safest places I've known. It's a place where I feel more peace than anywhere else.

This summer has been different in many ways than I expected. Without boring you with all the details, let's just say that I have felt a deep need for peace. And as soon as I crossed the bridge spanning the Niangua arm of the Lake, I felt like I was driving into a 10 mile radius of peace.

I don't know why this place is so safe for me. Maybe because it's almost as if time stops when I'm here. We have no schedule. Real-life demands and worries seem so far away. We have nothing to do but pack a cooler, climb in the boat and disappear for the day. There's nothing like a blazing hot summer day and my family on the boat to lift my spirits.

My family. Maybe I'll write a whole post about them one of these days. But you should know that they are some of the most incredible people. I often like to think that I'm this grown-up, independent young woman, but the truth is, I absolutely love (and need) to be around my family. Yesterday I just got to sit in the front of the boat with my sister, planning and dreaming about her wedding. (Yes, my baby sister's getting hitched!!). I'm so proud of how she's growing up. And my parents...I got to be loved by my them this weekend, in ways that they might not even realize. Some examples: my dad called an auto shop down here to get my car fixed on a day's notice (guess I WILL be making it back to St. Louis now), they let me order the expensive salmon at the restaurant (which tastes amazing when you've been living on oatmeal and salad all summer), and my mom just sat and listened when I needed to let off some steam. My brother and sister-in-law aren't here, but we took time this weekend to marvel at the miracle of little Abby Rose's life (I'll blog about her sometime, too). She's more than doubled her birth weight and the doctors are thrilled with her progress. Born at 1 lb. 12 oz., and given at 50 percent chance of making it, she's our family's real-life miracle. God is faithful.

And last night, our neighbor (a family friend from Pella) called a prayer meeting to pray over me, her daughter (who just got back from YWAM China) and another girl here who is leaving on a YWAM trip to New Zealand. Talk about PEACE overflowing in that room.

This place is safe, no doubt about it. Or as someone said last night, "The safest place to be is inside God's will." Good words to live by.

Peace for now, friends. I think I hear a jet ski calling my name.

Lifeless eyes

Whenever I take spiritual gifts tests, my scores for compassion are always the highest. I've got a lot of work to do on some other departments, but compassion never fails to dominate.

Basically, this means I have a lot of emotions. (Right, mom?)

It also means that I tend to empathize with people to a pretty high degree -- too high of a degree sometimes. I've found that there's a fine line between caring for another person in their sorrows and becoming burdened by their troubles yourself, which often disables you from actually being able to provide help in the situation. I often fall on the wrong side of this line. Things can be perfectly great in my own life, but tell me of someone suffering, going through a hard time, and it can take an toll on me. If it's ever possible to get too emotionally involved, I often do.

That happened last week.

I read a book that catalogues a young Nepalese girl's story of being sold into sexual slavery. (Sold by Patricia McCormick). The images it presented were horrific, the story it told was hard to read. It was raw, it was real, it left me with tears running down my face and a million questions in my mind. How can this happen? How do we stop it? Who will speak for these children? Who will save them? Who will bring the perpetrators to justice? Who will love these children back to life? Who will bring light to their lifeless eyes?

Sexual exploitation has been an issue that I've felt drawn to this past year, ever since a friend told me about her experience in Cambodia volunteering at a safe house for girls who had been rescued from sexual slavery. These are young girls, some not even yet teenagers, who are sold so that their families will have food to eat. Girls sold because their culture doesn't value women.

These girls are physically tortured and psychologically scarred.

These girls are raped day after day after day.

I cannot imagine the horrors.

I cannot imagine the violent disregard of something that I value so highly, a gift that I guard so closely.

I often insulate myself in my nice little safe bubble. We, as a culture, insulate ourselves, often blocking from our minds anything that makes us even slightly uncomfortable. Sometimes when people talk about issues like this, they're met with the response, "Just don't think about it" or "Stop being so emotional" or "It's not going to change, just forget it." Well, we can't just forget about it. We can't simply ignore atrocities happening all around us. Is that what the Bible means when it says to "seek justice and defend the oppressed"? To "speak up and defend the rights of the poor and needy"? 

The commercial sexual exploitation of children is a multi-billion dollar industry. UNICEF reports that more than one million children enter the sex trade every year and that in the past three decades about 30 million children have lost their childhood through sexual exploitation.

30 million.

That's ten times the population of my home state of Iowa.

I'll admit that maybe I get too emotional about some things, but I don't know if we can be too emotional about this, if it could affect us too deeply. I do think, however, that maybe emotion can get in the way of actually doing something about the issue. Instead of being solely entrenched in the emotional side of compassion, I want to take action. I want to raise awareness, I want to be a part of the fight for these children's freedom. I'm not really sure what that looks like, but I think it starts with actually talking about the issue. It starts with acknowledging that things like sexual slavery, extreme poverty and human rights abuses exist, and then loving the people of this world enough to do something about it.


"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18.

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