It’s Time to Be a Blessing

Brenda Carpenter doesn’t remember a time when generosity wasn’t part of her life, but she does remember how it felt.

She grew up in a home where love was something you lived and not just something you talked about. Her parents raised her and her siblings to know the Lord and to understand what unconditional, immeasurable love looked like, not only for each other, but for the people around them. Life wasn’t always easy. With her dad a quadriplegic and her mom caring for him full-time, there were seasons when things were tight and even uncertain. But even in those moments, her mom would gather the family and say, “It’s time to be a blessing.”

That meant baking brownies, gathering food from the fridge, picking flowers from the garden, and quietly delivering them to someone in need. Sometimes they would even dress in black so they wouldn’t be seen, slipping the gifts onto a doorstep, ringing the doorbell and stepping away. As a child, Brenda didn’t fully understand what her mom meant. They were going out to bless someone else, but she remembers how it felt when they returned home.

“We would sit around the kitchen table,” she thinks back, “filled with giggles, retelling the story, reenacting everything for my dad.” And somewhere in that laughter, she realized something deeper was happening. “We kind of forgot that we went to go bless them. It became a blessing back to us.” What began as obedience turned into joy, pure, overflowing joy.

A Gift That Would Come Back

At a young age, a neighbor gave Brenda a simple camera, and from that moment on, she rarely went anywhere without it. She captured everything, church camps, friends, moments in the neighborhood, even bugs crawling across the ground. She didn’t know it then, but God was already placing something in her hands that He would use later.

Over time, life shifted. New interests came, new relationships formed, and eventually the camera was set aside. Along with it, something else drifted too, her relationship with the Lord.

In her twenties, Brenda walked away from church, trying to build a life on her own. But what she found instead was emptiness. “I was searching for that blessing,” she said. “Who’s going to bless me now?” In the middle of that searching, she found herself in a difficult place, divorced, raising a one-year-old, and struggling.

And in that moment, she heard the Lord gently call her back. I’m still here. I want you back.

Welcome Home

When she walked into Bethel in the early 90s, she remembers exactly what she felt.

“Welcome home.”

That moment marked a turning point. She rededicated her life to the Lord, and almost instinctively, the camera came back out. But this time, it was different. She was not just taking pictures. She was seeing differently through the lens.

She began serving at Bethel, capturing moments during Christmas services and events, and something familiar returned.

“I would come home with that same joy,” she said. “The joy I had as a little girl around the kitchen table.” The same feeling of blessing others and somehow being filled in return.

Stepping Into the Unknown

Years later, in 2013, God called her somewhere she had never imagined going.

Haiti.

She had never been on a mission trip outside the country before. And if she’s honest, it was a little scary. There were doubts, fears, and every kind of “what if” running through her mind. But she stepped forward anyway, surrounded by prayer and trusting that if God was calling, He would be faithful.

The moment she stepped off the plane, everything shifted.

“It was like when I walked into Bethel and heard ‘welcome home,’” she said. “When I stepped onto that ground, it was like God said, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. Let’s go.’”

From that point on, her camera became something more than a hobby. It became a way to serve.

Joy That Cannot Be Explained

Over the next several years, she returned to Haiti again and again, documenting lives, capturing faces, taking photos for child sponsorships, and building relationships that would stay with her forever. Even now, when she looks back at those images, “the joy that fills my heart is immeasurable.”

There’s a picture she describes, children gathered all around her, what she lovingly calls “the pinkies,” the youngest ones, swarming her as she holds her camera.

“Is this what heaven is going to feel like?” she remembers thinking.

It is not something she can fully explain.

“There’s no word in the dictionary for it,” she said. “But God.”

Even when doors closed in Haiti, God continued to lead her. He opened opportunities in Kenya, where she now supports communities through photography, documenting food distribution and building relationships with people who have become like family.

In one village, she brought a small printer so she could hand people photos of themselves, many seeing their own image for the very first time.

“They don’t have mirrors,” Brenda said softly. “They’ve never seen themselves.”

She recalls one woman holding her photo, overwhelmed, and then embracing her. In that moment, something simple became something sacred.

Here and There

Back home, her generosity continues in ways that might seem smaller, but carry the same heart.

She photographs families at Bethel, capturing moments they may not otherwise have. She works with students, using photography to help support classrooms across the world. She serves locally, noticing people others might walk past, asking questions, offering kindness, and building connections.

Whether it’s across the world or across the street, the calling is the same.

“I just wake up every morning and say, ‘Here I am, Lord. Use me. Send me.’”

What Generosity Really Looks Like

For Brenda, generosity is not about one specific thing. It is not just about going overseas or giving something big away. It is about listening, noticing, and being willing.

“Sometimes it’s big,” she says. “Sometimes it’s just a still, small voice, your neighbor is hurting, will you go?”

And then she smiles, remembering her childhood.

“Dress in black. Let’s go be a blessing.”

She is quick to remind people that generosity does not have to feel overwhelming.

“It’s not always big,” she said. “It’s smiling at someone who’s having a hard day. It’s pulling weeds for a neighbor. It’s using whatever passion God has given you.”

An Invitation

And then she pauses, and you can hear the conviction in her voice, not heavy, but full of joy.

“We’ve all been given gifts that we are meant to share. So give. Not because you’re trying to receive something back. Give because God has called you to. Give for His glory and not yours. Be still. Listen to His voice. And then take that step.”

Because for Brenda, that’s where it all begins. Not with having more or doing something impressive.

But with a simple, faithful response:

Here I am, Lord. Use me.

Thank you for reading!

Each week, we’ll share a story from someone in our Bethel family. These written stories will explore their faith journey, how God has been at work in their life, and how it connects to one of our five values.

• Week 1: The Journey

• Week 2: Real Relationships

• Week 3: Sacred Rhythms

• Week 4: Diverse Unity

• Week 5: Generous Lives