false and foul as hell

I'm caught up in another restless night.  I am wrapped up in the book I bought today.  The woman's story is so heartbreaking.  I made myself turn off the light after her husband turned out to be a different person entirely, following her long history of abuse, self-deprecation, Playboy, and cocaine.  Definitely not the place to leave off in the story.

The woman's goal in life today: to tell people who need to hear it "in this world, you were loved."  Her story somehow ends dedicated to the people of Haiti.  Thus, I found the book.  And thus far, I am sickened by brokenness.

I am a broken person who does messed up things.  As put today in church:

False and foul as hell, my heart, to Thee I offer up

Kevin talked about communion, how it's a part of who we are as Christians.  It's a part of our story.  And as I thought about that during communion, I looked around at everyone in Redeemer, and how they are each beloved.  Why do we not treat each other as such?

Then my thoughts went to Roberto and Emmanuella and Clara and Rose Berline and Jean Marc and Christopher and Widler and Clifton and Mansado and Nicole and Tamara and Jeremiah and Hannah and every other kid whose hand I ever held in the market or the villages.  I think about Estevan who lost his parents and asked me to take him in.  I think about Wendalyn.  I think about Bon Samaritan.  I think about Tytoo Gardens.  I think about Cite Soleil.

And that is one place, the size of Maryland, of nearly 9 million people...out of nearly 8 billion.

Each one beloved.  Do they know they are beloved?  Do I treat them as such?

Beloved there is nothing more,

No more blessings and no more rewards,

Than the treasure of my body and blood

Given freely to all daughters and sons.