Month: March 2008

  • Moving…Please join me!

    Hi All.

    Just wanted to give you all the heads up that while I’m keeping this account open, I’m really only going to be posting at my blog spot blog. I love the community and hearing from you, but I’ve found it difficult to keep them both going — even just cutting and pasting all the time.

    I hope you’ll consider subscribing to my other blog! (You’ll get an email when I update. Just don’t forget to verify once you put your email in.) I plan to keep reading my subscriptions here and dropping a note now and again.

    My other blog is www.amylbrooke.blogspot.com

    Blessings

    Amy

  • Not the Why but the Who — Hope Chronicles 28

    Katy, my older cat, loves to sleep next to me. I lie on my side and hold the blanket up and she curls up next to my tummy as I let the blankets gently cover her. Often, I can’t hear her purr, but as I rub her belly I can feel the vibrations, the contentment. It’s a soothing ritual the two of us have developed.

    As you have guessed, I like cats. I also like useless bits of trivia. Without using Google see if you know the following:

    1. Only one type of cat lives in a group and it is _________.
    2. The first state to ratify the constitution was _________.
    3. The first female doctor was _____________.
    4. Why do hummingbirds hum? (No, it isn’t, he he, that they don’t know the words)
    5. The movement to get women the right to vote began in 1848. How many years did it take to achieve it?
    6. How many stripes are on the American flag?
    7. What Midwestern city adds coco to it’s famous chili and what is the brand name?

    Stop right now and write down the answers. No peeking as I’ve put them at the very bottom. I’ll send a small gift card to whomever gets the most right first. (You can only play in the next 48 hours!) You are all on the honor system.

    That was a long prelude to what this post is really about — that “Why?” question. Even more than knowing useless bits of trivia, I like to understand the why of things. I like to know why it works and why you don’t do it this other way. I like to know why things need to be this way rather than that way. I don’t know that I actually pestered my parents so much with the questions. (I would have gotten immediate consequences if I had not had immediate obedience.) But, to the extent I was able, there was a quest for “Why?”

    Even today, “why” still comes into play. Please don’t tell me to do something without explaining the reason behind it. In my mind, comprehension is everything.

    I don’t think I’m that far off from a lot of people. I may do it more than most in day to day interactions, but when the really big things happen, we all find ourselves asking “Why?”

    November 2006 I started dating Bill. After the first date, we pretty much saw each other every day. We hit a rough patch the end of March, but I anticipated getting back together. I didn’t think it was a forever break. I thought we both needed to get our bearings. After all, we had been moving pretty fast over the last several months — to the point that we had spoken of marriage. Bill had vowed, “I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me.”

    The middle of April Bill suffered an aortic aneurysm. His gentle heart split open. They managed to do surgery and he lingered a few days, but he never truly came around. I got to talk to him and pray with him in a one-sided kind of way, but we never had the final conversation that I longed for.

    When it first happened I went to a grief support group for a time. Eventually, I needed it less and less. But tonight I went back. That year anniversary is coming quickly and I don’t want to be caught off guard. Anniversaries can be tricky to navigate.

    Lots of people in the room had much more recent losses than mine — November, December, January. And several expressed “why” questions. “Why so quickly?” “Why with all the medical advances?” “Why wasn’t I there at the very end? I only left for a moment.”

    It was interesting because everyone in the room tonight expressed some type of faith. That hasn’t always been the case. I came away thinking that “why” questions have their merits, but the better question is “Who?”

    • Who walked this earth and is intimately acquainted with our grief? (Isaiah 53:3)
    • Who wept when His friend died? (John 11:35)
    • Who comforts those who walk through the valley of the shadow of death? (Psalm 23)
    • Who prepares a table before us in the presence of our enemies? (Psalm 23)
    • Who has compassion on the heavy laden? (Matthew 11:28)
    • Who rejoices over us with singing? (Zephaniah 3:17)

    Knowing the “why” pales in comparison of knowing the WHO that is Jesus who has welcomed our loved ones home and stands with arms open wide to comfort us in our grief as we wrestle with the “why”. Just as Katy snuggles in close to me, we can snuggle into Jesus.

    Amy

    And I was serious about that small gift card! Leave me those answers….. and then check to see if you are right!

    Answers:

    1. Lions 2. Delaware 3. Elizabeth Blackwell 4. It’s the sound that their wings make from moving so fast. 5. 72 years with the first legal voting happening in 1920 6. 13 — one for each of the original colonies 7. Cincinnati’s Skyline Chili — very yummy. Of course, I grew up on it . . . .

  • My Hope Is Built — Hope Chronicles 27

    Cross2

    As a college student, I fought the whole idea of singing hymns. They seemed antiquated and outdated. Just before my senior year, I spent a summer at InterVarsity’s Student Leadership Training (SLT). It was fun and stretching month. While we sang more contemporary songs, there was also a healthy dose of old hymns mixed in. I came to love some of the theology in them.


    Now, I am in a church where we mostly sing contemporary Christian music. Much of it has merit, but it doesn’t have the anchor of hundreds of thousands of Christians through the ages singing it. Many of our worship leaders are younger. About a year ago, I was trying to put power point together for the service. We were going to sing Amazing Grace (one of the few hymns that make it in). I asked about which verses and he rattled off numbers. But when they sang, they seemed to skip one. I forget which one it was and I called his attention to it because it meant the numbers he had given me didn’t match up. He was genuinely surprised it was a real verse and not something someone had recently made up!


    The last few days, I have been thinking about this song — My Hope Is Built On Nothing Less. It’s never been one of my favorites. If hymns come to mind they tend to be Amazing Grace, Be Thou My Vision, And Can It Be, Great Is Thy Faithfulness…. So, I’ve been a bit surprised to find this hymn rattling around in my brain.


    “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus blood and righteousness.” What amazing words. While I know they are true, I also know that I find myself falling into the folly of thinking that there must be something I can do to “be good enough.” I don’t necessarily come right out and say it. But there is a “worker bee” mentality to me. If I can be kind enough, helpful enough, smart enough, good enough.


    But that’s where the second part comes in — “no merit of my own I claim, but wholly lean on Jesus name.” Nothing I do has enough merit. That is a humbling place to be. It really flies in the face of the American ideals — the rags to riches, work hard enough, it only matters that you tried . . . .


    While God may appreciate our efforts to get to know Him, He knows that in and of themselves, they are never enough. He knew that if my efforts were placed on the scales of justice against my sin, it would never be enough. So, He gave us the cross.


    And it is more than enough for me and you . . . . So, while those things I do are good and God does call us to serve each other, I need to still my worker bee mindset and rest in knowing that my hope is built on Jesus blood and righteousness. No frantic trying is needed. For when Jesus died and rose again, it was simply — enough.

  • Two Sides of the Same Coin — Hope Chronicles 25

    Last night at the bookstore, I was talking to a coworker. I told him that on Saturday I had purchased a hula hoop and that I was teaching one of my cats, Mali, to jump through it. He remarked, “You can’t teach a cat tricks.” (For photographic proof see Mali doing “up”.) I told him that I had, and that Mali had walked through the hoop numerous times and jumped through twice. His response: “Are you sure she just wasn’t humoring you?” Maybe, but I’ll take it.

    Dogs are pack animals and probably do perform out of a desire to please as well as accompanying treats. The only cat that lives in a group is a lion. So, cats are fairly independent. It can be a trick to figure out their motivation and harness it. Our motives in things are often mixed. I think Mali enjoys the interaction as well as the treats….

    My parents were always very concerned about appearances. As a result, they belonged to a local church not out of faith but because it looked good. We went on Christmas and Easter and a few other times during the year. But, we weren’t what you would call regulars.


    The church we went to confirmed kids when they got to the seventh grade. To be confirmed, you had to go to special classes for a year. My parents decided that my twin and I would have to go. (I’m thankful for that because it is one of the ways God drew me to Himself.) However, they didn’t want to go with us. So, they took to dropping us off and picking us up and were genuinely surprised we liked it and even asked to go to youth group.

    I was extremely shy and quiet. I didn’t necessarily mix all that well with the other kids. However, I craved the interaction with the youth leaders. But even this was overshadowed by how quiet I was.


    Every Sunday morning all the youth gathered to pray together before heading to Sunday school. About 40 of us stood in a circle and held hands and one or two people prayed. One Sunday Bob came up to me and said, “I’m going to have you pray for us.” Fear over rode my normal respect for authority. I told him that I couldn’t. He told me that I could. I told him that I couldn’t. We went back and forth with this about four times before he turned and walked away.


    Everyone circles up. Bob announces, “Amy is going to open us in prayer this morning.” Silence. Absolute silence unless you count the sound of my heart. You see we only prayed twice a year at my house — Thanksgiving and Christmas. And then it was always my dad who said the prayer. So, I had never prayed out loud. Bob announced for a second time that I was going to pray. I was mute and totally crimson. Another youth leader finally jumped in and opened the morning with prayer.


    I tell that story not because Bob was a bad guy. Though, I do think his approach was a bit misguided. I tell it more because I took him totally off guard. I still catch people off guard. I bend, bend, bend, bend, SNAP — they’ve run into a brick wall. They are always surprised when they suddenly meet resistance.

    Some people would call it sheer stubbornness. There is probably some of that in there. But when you’re on the same side of the brick wall as me, you’re likely to see it as perseverance. Stubbornness and perseverance are, I believe, two sides of the same coin.

    I’ve been thinking about it some the last couple of weeks. Without some perseverance, some stubbornness even, I don’t know that I would have survived. There had to be some core of hope willing to hang on to every shred of light that sliced into my darkness.

    At other times, I may be my own worst enemy. For example, in the youth group story. Bob pushed. While that wasn’t the right thing, my reaction was to swing completely and totally the other direction and never look back. I didn’t pray out loud in a group until my sophomore year in college. What sweet times of fellowship did I miss out on all those years?

    Even now there is a situation I am trying to make heads or tails of. I guess the question that may shed the light on it is what is the posture of my heart? Is it a hope filled response (perseverance) or a fear filled one (stubbornness)? I’m not sure yet, but it is something to ponder.

  • Change of Heart

    I don’t know if most bookstores do this or not, but the one I work in lets you borrow hard-cover books for 2 weeks! The management keeps the dust jacket. I’ve never done it before, but Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult recently came out. I’m on a budget, and since this a hardcover, it isn’t in the budget. Since I’m only part-time “seasonal” (they call me in as a sub), I didn’t know if the borrowing policy would extend to me. Happiness — it does!



    So, I’ve borrowed Change of Heart. Jodi Picoult is one of my favorite fiction writers. (Before you go out and buy her stuff on my say so, I don’t know that she is a Christian. So she doesn’t necessarily write from a Christian perspective. Some of her stuff is rather “edgy,” and I’m not sure I would recommend. Other books, I just absolutely love and have read numerous times. More specifically, My Sister’s Keeper.)



    What I love about her later books is that she completely gets you in the mind of the characters.



    And I love the way she strings words together. Sometimes it makes me catch my breath and go back and read it again. It’s beautiful.



    So, I’ve just begun Change of Heart. I’m hooked. I want to know, need to know what happens. (But I turn the pages very carefully.)



    Gist: June has endured more pain than many can imagine. Her first husband was killed in a car accident but she and her daughter were spared. Her second husband and her daughter were killed by another of the main characters, Shay. She gave birth to her second daughter after they were killed. And her daughter, Claire, needs a heart transplant.



    I know it is fiction, but at the same time, I also know that life can sometimes look like that — one sweeping tragedy after the next.



    About 60 pages into it, June muses, “Life has a way of pointing out, with great sweeping signs, that you are looking at the wrong things, doesn’t it? It was when I started to admit to myself that I’d rather be dead that I was given a child who had to fight to stay alive.” In the same chapter she talks to Claire and Claire points out that the only thing she is allowed to do is read. Claire says, “I bet a saint can play softball.”



    June: “So can a girl with a heart transplant.”



    “But Claire wasn’t listening; she knew that hope was just smoke and mirrors; she’d learned by watching me.”



    Of course, I zeroed in on the hope statement. I think hope by the world’s standards may be smoke and mirrors. But I don’t believe that it is so with Jesus. So, I’ve been thinking of how I might (as if I might meet her) challenge June’s perception.

    There was no smoke and mirrors about the cross.


    There was no smoke and mirrors about Jesus rising from the dead. A couple things point to that. If the Romans stole the body, why didn’t they produce it when Christianity started to catch on. If the disciples stole the body and made it up, why would they have been willing to die for something they knew was a lie. I don’t think they would have been.


    Maybe more compelling are the things in my life — the way my change of heart. I came from a home that wasn’t Christian, yet God showed Himself to me. I came from a home that was abusive. I’ll admit that at times, that has meant that I have struggled to see God as a loving father. I could easily see Him as a distant King. A loving father? No. But God has shown me that a bad copy does not invalidate the original. And God is the original. I came from a home was isolated and lonely and scary on a daily basis. I still struggle with those things some, but God is my safety. He has given me some great friends. He has helped me move out of the shadows and into the light. He has given me strength to stand up for my convictions. He has begun to redeem my brokenness. There is no smoke and mirrors about that. It is hope.


    Smoke and mirrors are magic tricks, slights of the hand. Hope is about Jesus stretching His arms out on the cross and then one day stretching His arms out to welcome us into his presence.


    What evidence is there in your life to refute June’s comment that hope is merely smoke and mirrors?


  • A Child’s Faith, A Mother’s Heart, and Daring to Hope — Hope Chronicles 23

    Several years ago Julie was driving back to visit her family with her children. The oldest was in the third grade. She pulled out a yellow legal pad and announced that they were going to make a list. This got Julie’s attention. After all, it was spring and Christmas was many months away. Julie inquired as to what the list was for. Her daughter announced that it was a list of things they wanted in a husband for their mom. (Sorry, Oprah, this little one was way ahead of you on love lists!)

    Her younger daughter started off with things like money and a nice car. With all the wisdom of a third grader, her older daughter said, “No, he first has to be a Christian.” And then, after getting the younger girl more focused, they moved on from there.

    Recently, Julie’s girls (now both teenagers and the older one a year away from college) were cleaning out their memory boxes. Her oldest found the list that Julie had stowed there. “Mom,” she said, “he has all these things.” You see, Julie remarried a few years ago after dating her husband for five years! He was patient enough to wait around for her to be ready.

    I got teary as Julie related the story. She rushed to say, “I didn’t tell you that to make you cry!” I know she didn’t but I didn’t know if I dared to hope. Sometimes it feels easier not to hope than to have a hope and not see it fulfilled.

    What are the things you hope for but can’t see yet?

    This week a friend looped me in on some communication she was having with another single woman. This is a portion of the email she sent:

    “I want to encourage you that you can still be a mother in a non-traditional way. My friend, Amy, is 39 years old and never married. She, too, sometimes gets down about her desire to marry and have children. But I want you to know that she has so connected in my kids lives that she often mothers them. She takes them for fun outings. She watches them so my husband and I can have time. She has had some deep conversations with them when they’ve asked deep questions.”

    I was touched by my friend’s words. “She has so connected in my kids lives that she often mothers them.” In my separate conversation with Julie, I asked, “So why did God give me a mother’s heart and empty arms?” Julie suggested that maybe it is just a “not yet” and that I needed to keep myself open. To think that it is a lost cause closes off my heart to possibilities. She wanted me to make a list.

    I know some of you reading are not single. But I hope you can still relate. What is it that you so hope for that it scares you because what would happen if that dream didn’t come true?

    It is hard to hope and not see how that hope might be fulfilled. Sometimes people try to make you feel better and say, “God has a better plan for you.” They mean well, but sometimes it can make it feel harder. I do know that God doesn’t take that longing, that hope (whatever it is in your life) lightly. Scripture recognizes the weight of it. In Proverbs 13:12 (NIV) it says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”

    It’s okay to have that longing — whatever it might be for you. It’s okay to sometimes feel down about it. But be careful. Don’t make it into an idol. (An idol is anything that takes center stage instead of God.)

    So, some of that is okay. BUT, God also calls us to turn our eyes to Him. I’ll only quote part of Psalm 42 here (8-11), but I encourage you to look at the whole thing:

    By day the LORD directs his love,

    at night his song is with me—

    a prayer to the God of my life.

    I say to God my Rock,

    “Why have you forgotten me?

    Why must I go about mourning,

    oppressed by the enemy?”

    My bones suffer mortal agony

    as my foes taunt me,

    saying to me all day long,

    “Where is your God?”

    Why are you downcast, O my soul?

    Why so disturbed within me?

    Put your hope in God,

    for I will yet praise him,

    my Savior and my God.


    Even when my dreams feel far away, I am called to put my hope in God — to praise my God and Rock. So, I thought about all the kids I’ve “mothered” over the years: Elizabeth, Hannah, Jonathan, David, Billy, Theresa, . . . and I could come up with quite a list if I really looked back and took stock. In that perspective, my arms have been but empty!

    Julie also reminded me of Sarah in the Bible who went to great lengths to have a child and really made things worse than if she had just waited on God. I’m like her in wanting to just make whatever happen. And Julie said, “Don’t be like Sarah. Don’t laugh at God.” (Genesis 18:12-16).

    So, I’m daring to hope. And though it feels risky, I started that list. Meanwhile, I will not waste the mother instincts God has given me.

    What will you dare to hope for? What will you do while you are waiting and trusting and praising God for whatever may come?

  • You Just Gotta Know The Language

     I have vertical blinds over the windows. Unfortunately, when the blinds are down, Katy (one of my cats) likes to pry her body through the blinds so she can see out the window. I try to leave them up during the day, but at night I like them down so people can’t see in! Katy was just pawing at the blinds and starting to wiggle her way between them. (She has broken a couple of them doing this and I don’t have the finances for new ones at this time.) I yelled and was ignored. I then tried calling to her and patting the bed to get her to come over. No luck. I dug in my purse for scratch paper and threw a wad of paper — anything but get up.

    I don’t know what possessed me. I had enough (but still not enough to want to get up), so I whole heatedly HISSED in my best imitation of an angry cat. I’ve never tried that before, but it definitely got her attention. I don’t know what I said in “cat,” but Katy scampered under the dresser! I guess you just gotta know the language — even if it is “cat.”

    It’s been a day. That is, honestly, all I can say for it. It’s been a day.

    I haven’t slept well since Saturday. Amy on no sleep is no good! I’m not totally sure what that is about but, I’ve averaged 3-4 hours a night. That is not enough to function on coherently. I drag myself through the day but at night my eyes pop open.

    At the moment is 6:30PM. I’m exhausted and would like to go to sleep right now. But research would say that wouldn’t be wise. So, I’m sharing my tiredness with all of you!

    But hopefully tonight I will sleep and tomorrow we’ll have more happy, hope-ish, type thoughts!

    Speaking of hope, check out the post below if you are interested in winning a book about hope.

  • Hope Contest

    Lots of times I blog on both xanga and blogspot. I value the community I’ve developed here. But the thing I like about blog spot is that anyone can leave comments. They don’t have to have a Xanga account to do so.

    I’ve decided to host a hope contest on my blogspot blog. To keep all the comments together, I am only doing it on my blogspot blog. But I would love to have you participate. Just leave you xanga id when you do.

    To get to it, click the picture!

                                                      hopebutton2

     

    Have a great day!

  • The Picture — Hope Chronicles 22

    I don’t know how long it had hung there. But it was there during my student days with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and then my 11 year tenure on staff. My guess is, though I haven’t been back in years to check, is that it still rests in the on the wall in the stairwell at InterVarsity’s Cedar Campus. Even though it was a simple charcoal sketch, it never failed to catch my eye and my heart.

    It was sketched in black on white paper — a picture of the sea. You could see above the water and below the water. The artist had drawn the bottom of the sea littered with an inner tube and bit of trash and debris. But the heart clincher for me was a simple sign, slightly askew, in the bottom right hand corner. It simply read, “No Fishing.”

    In that simple picture, the artist caught the condition of the human soul in two ways. First, he noted that our sins have been cast into the sea. Micah 7:19 says, “He will again have compassion on us. And will subdue our iniquities. You will cast all ours sins into the depths of the seas.” Notice that God doesn’t say that he hurls them into a shallow creek. He casts them into the deepest seas. If we are in Christ, our sins are no more. They have been hurled away by God and buried in the depths.

    Secondly, the sign points to our second propensity. Sometimes, we cannot leave well enough alone. Instead, we dig out the fishing gear and sling our poles over our shoulders and head out to the open water. Once there, we fish and fish and fish until we catch something on our hooks. With all the persistence of a seasoned fisherman, we refuse go home empty handed.

    Why do we do that? It’s not like we really want the rubbish off the bottom of the sea. If anything, it is a burden — once discarded — that we pick up again. God cast it there with good reason. He knows that we have been redeemed, that we aren’t who we once were. But we go fishing because at some level we doubt that fact. We fear that the sin we confessed isn’t really wiped away. We fail to trust the one who freed us from that sin. In doing so, we stifle hope.

    I’m not saying that we should never look at our past. Our past informs our present. However, if I just looked at my past with human eyes, my heart would be so heavy I would never manage to struggle out of bed. The sins, the abuse, the pride, . . . would weigh me down so I couldn’t move.

    Rather, when we look at the past, we need to play close attention to the camera angle. Is it focused on us and our sin or is it focused on the God who redeemed us? Some of the pieces may sound similar in each story, but in reality they are vastly different. One is a picture of despair. The other is a picture of hope.

    If you feel the need to look at the past, check the camera angle closely and always let God take center stage. That is where we will find hope in the past, present, and future.

    When you find yourself wanting to go fishing, heed this simple sign. It will make all the difference in the world.





  • Cross Connections

    Hey all! I hope you doing well. I’m thinking about starting an online Christian newsletter for Christians in Central Illinois. (Not that if you are from somewhere else you can’t read it, but it would focus on things in the area.) Hopefully, it would be something that lots churches in the area could connect through.

    The first thing I think I need to do is come up with a statement of faith. This would be something all contributing writers would sign. The key element in is belief in Jesus for salvation.

    If you were coming up with something like this, what other elements would you include?

    I think it needs something that can include different denominations but exclude ideas that don’t align with the Bible. I’m thinking of something along the lines of InterVarsity’s statement of faith. I’ld have to find it. InterVarsity is my background. I liked it that people from so many different churches could agree enough to work under the same umbrella.

    So, what do you think?

    I went ahead and set up a link on blogger. There’s not much to see but the header, but if you want to look it is www.bncrossconnections.blogspot.com

    The BN stands for Bloomington Normal where I’m located.

    Have a good day.