I’ve never been much of a dancer. But the theme song for me at She Speaks was Lee Ann Womak’s I Hope You Dance. The applicable words will be in centered in color. Consider them the background music to this post!

Here’s my confession: I’ve never been much of a makeup person. Seriously, at 13 my mother was more interested in me wearing make up than I was. I’ve had occasional spurts where I’ve worn it, but I’ve never understood mascara. Maybe it’s that I have dark hair and my lashes are naturally dark. (Which is convenient because I might look odd if they were red or blond or something. Things just wouldn’t match!)


But the weekend before She Speaks I talked to someone about makeup and all that. The talk included mascara. Since she gave me little sample things of it, I decided to try it out. That Sunday I wore it to church along with some purple eye shadow. A dear friend asked me what had happened to my eye. The poor guy thought I had endured some injury. So, I was a bit wary.

When I dressed for my Friday appointments, I used the purple eye shadow and mascara again. I was careful to check with my roommates that it looked okay . . . .

My first appointment went okay. They told me to email my proposal. Smile. Big smiles. Big wash of confidence leading into my second appointment.

Let’s just say, that one didn’t go as well. At first I thought it was going fine. But maybe I got too chatty because in the end they didn’t want to take it and didn’t want it emailed.



I managed to keep it together on the way out the door. But then I got teary. However, the thought of actually crying and making the mascara run helped me keep it together. I most definitely did not want to look like a raccoon when I finally met all my bloggy friends in person in just an hour or so.

So, the moral of the story is that if you are feeling weepy wear mascara to help keep the tears under control….

While that is the end of the mascara bit, it is not the end of the story. I had arrived the night before and Melissa Taylor had told me I could have a third appointment if I wanted it because some people had canceled. She thought I should grab another one. I had flown all the way there, so I wasn’t about to let that opportunity slip by. That one was scheduled for Saturday.



So, here I am on Friday not wanting my mascara to run and I got to the blogger reception. Yes, that was pure fun! I mentioned to Lysa that my second appointment had not gone well but that I was keeping it “in perspective.” Her response was that she thought such and such publisher still had openings and I needed to go check.



Since I’m very obedient, I marched back up the stairs — blinking hard because of the nerves and fears and trying to keep the tears back. I had to wait to talk to the gal in charge up there. She kept saying, “I’ll be right with you.” But keeping publishers and chatty women on schedule was a bit dizzying. I chatted a bit with Glynnis and then actually the nerves got the best of me. I left.




I walked back down to the reception, but I ran into someone else from P31. They told me I should go back. So, I trotted back up the stairs. I finally got to talk to the gal in charge. We scheduled an appointment for Saturday at 6:15 PM. I was walking back down the stairs when she called after me. “Amy, she wants to meet with you NOW.” Apparently, her appointment hadn’t shown and there were 8 minutes left in the slot. There’s not much you can say about your 53 page baby in 8 minutes, but I must have said something right. I was told to email it to her!


I felt much more coherent on Saturday. I talked really fast because even 15 minutes wasn’t feeling like enough. But, I was told to email it!

And then Sunday rolled around. I was meandering through the breakfast area when I was stopped by publisher number 2. She had changed her mind and had thought about it since Thursday. Would I email it to her?


Can you hear the music? It’s my prayer for you as well.

Holly, me, and Lysa

Their sweet greeting was just the beginning. I finally met Melissa Taylor in person. She is simply beautiful inside and out. Lisa Whittle startled me with her greeting as I was sitting at a table putting my talks together in the lobby. She is another beautiful person — real and caring. And then I ran into Renee. She greeted me, invited me to lunch, encouraged me, and moved me to tears with her talk Saturday night.

Renee and Me

And then there are all the bloggers I met. I shall tell you more about them as the time goes on. If I write everything this minute, my computer will overload. Let’s just say there were 560 dreams that were lifted up to God There were 560 beautiful women. There were 560 women who are dearly loved by God.

Friday night I sat at a table with 7 other women. A woman across from me asked about my blog. I said that it was called, “God’s Work In Progress,” but that the address was http://www.amylbrooke.blogpsot.com/ The woman to my right, exclaimed, “AMY L BROOKE! I’m having dinner with AMY L BROOKE!” At first I thought she was teasing me, but it turns out she has read my little corner of blogland and was genuinely pleased to meet me. I can say, no one has ever greeted me quite like that.


Very often I feel insignificant, unnoticed, overlooked. But it felt like this weekend that God was saying, “You are significant. You are noticed. You are never out of my sight. My beloved, Amy, I SEE you.” It came in the form of the arms of these wonderful ladies at P31 as well as the attendees.


I often panic in a crowd when I am by myself. Saturday night I sat with some bloggy friends. Renee brought a profound message. I laid my doubts and fears at the foot of the cross. Melissa was there to hug me, and I cried on her shoulder and got snot on the sweater she had borrowed from Melaine (sorry, Melanie), and then made my way back to the table and sat and listened to the music and God. One by one the people at my table left for the evening and still I sat. The worship leader came back out to sing just a couple more songs.

I found myself standing at that empty table. The new thing for me was that I was completely okay with that. I was standing in the throne room of God. He kept repeating, “I see you. I love you.” I wanted those moments to go on and on.


The room was finally almost empty. They flipped the harsh lights back on. I stopped to talk to Lysa for a moment. She went to hug me and I warned her, “If you hug me I’ll probably start leaking again,” so we opted for a brief hug. I said, “I’ll try to say this without crying. Two years ago when I came, I felt loved on. Things with my family are always difficult. This year when I came it was more than feeling loved on. It has been like stepping into a family. I have never felt so delighted in.”

Lysa said what others would reiterate throughout the conference. “When you came two years ago my heart broke for you because you were so lonely and I knew there was nothing I could do . . . . But I’ve watched you blossom the last year over the blog. God has changed you.”

God has patiently and faithfully worked in my life the last couple years. She Speaks confirmed that change to me. And it gave me a glimpse of heaven, where we will all delightedly say, “It’s you! I’ve been so wanting to meet you!”


Yes, there is more to share: meetings with publishers, the talks I gave, eating fried pickles because “everything is better if it is fried,” the difference between southern and northern humor, and lots of fun anecdotes. But the biggest thing I want to give praise to is knowing in a new way that God delights in me and that He sets the lonely in “families.” I caught hold of those two things in a new and profound way

I was raised in an abusive homes and abuse thrives on secrecy. While I’ve spilled that secret, I am still very private. Lots of times, I just don’t even think to tell someone something. It doesn’t cross my mind because it is “private.” Perhaps a better word is personal.

I worked in ministry for 11 years. Hearing students’ wounds was something to keep between me and God. (Unless, of course, there was any danger.)

Add to that the fact that I have an MA in counseling. By law and ethics, that stuff is confidential.

I don’t think of myself as a natural gossip. I just don’t tend to repeat very many things.

Knowing all of that, I am always a bit befuddled when someone tells me, “Please don’t repeat this.” Generally, repeating 95% of things wouldn’t cross my mind.

There is a difference between secrets and confidentiality. A secret was the abuse in my family. Confidentiality is a professional thing. But the two blend together for me at times. Today, I’ve decided I don’t even like the idea of secrets. They cost too much. No, that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell everyone everything I hear. Rather, I have felt the sting of secrets kept today in a fresh way.

I won’t air it here (that would hardly be right or fair), but I found out today about a secret choice a friend made. Had I known for sure the path she was considering, I would have waved big caution flags, jumped up and down to get her attention, and possibly made nuisance out of myself for a brief time. But I would have known it was her decision and after saying my bit, I would have let the issue rest with her. The sad fact is that no one seems to have known about this huge decision she was making. Did she have opportunity to share? Yes. She chose not to.

I am beginning to believe that if something doesn’t fall into the fun surprise category that secrets are dangerous things. In this case, I think she knows it is a wrong choice, possibly even dangerous, but she was bent on doing it anyway. If you don’t discuss it with anyone, you won’t have to deal with anyone balking at the decision. It makes it much easier to go through with what you want.

But if you have to keep it a secret, do you really believe in your heart that it is a good decision?

Have I done my share of keeping secrets? Yes. And I’m not even talking about the abuse here. I’ve made bad decisions and gone on making them and keeping them secrets for a long time. Honestly, the heartache they caused was exponentially worse than any satisfaction or warped pleasure that came from the decision behind the secret.

So, if you are at a crossroads and are making a decision, please seek counsel from those who are wise around you. Yes, it is still your decision, but remember the above question. If it must be done in secret, is it really a good decision? God is a God of light.

Sorry for the sermonette today, but it has weighed on my heart since early this morning.

I have seen white daisies. I have seen orange daisies. But I’ve never seen a purple one. It seems that when we think we know all about how God works, He takes the time to surprise us. In the midst of the business of life, it seems like a gentle reminder that God takes a personal interest in me. He numbers the hairs on my head and knows that my favorite color is purple. It seems He painted it just for me . . . . What a hopeful thought.

How has God gently surprised you lately?

I’m off and visiting other blogs (when I should be writing), but I have to come back to my blog to pick up a few links. As I was doing my blog hopping via my blogspot blog, I noticed the top of my blog archives says “111″. That means that I have blogged here 111 times. Because I like even numbers, I’m making this blog so that it will be 112!

But really, when I started I thought I would blog once or twice a week. The pictures and quotes are a bit misleading (back dated to make the links at the navigation bar at the top). I really started blogging here in early December. That means I average a blog every couple of days.


That is kind of amazing to me. Even more amazing is that people read and leave nice little comments. I love the give and take of it.

What do I blog about? Everything. It seems that my life has turned into one big, bloggy event. Everything is fodder for the blog. And it has increased my fascination with my camera. It’s so fun to illustrate.

So, really, what do I blog about:

• My cats. It’s amazing how prominently they are featured and that they provide so much material.
  
  
  
• Friendships. Relationships are huge for me. I’m always trying to think through those.
  
  
  
• Singleness. Though, while I mention it some, this hasn’t been as big of a pull for me as I thought it might. However, I’ve appreciated all of you married people out there leaving your words of encouragement.
  
  
  
• Kids. I love kids, so my adventures with them — if it is ice skating or watching them nap on the couch with a cat — all go into blogdom.
  
  
  
• God. This blog is meant to be about God’s work in the day to day things of life. As I’ve sought to write about Him, it is amazing all the ways He has shown himself to me.
  
  
  
• I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that this blog is about HOPE. I started it on a mission to write weekly about hope. Of those 111 posts, 48 are hope related or part of what I call Hope Chronicles. A friend told me the other day that she starts reading and wonders how I will bring it around to hope. (The Hope Chronicle title gives it away.) Yet, she said that I always manage to, that I come at hope from all different angles.

As I’ve sought to prepare, God keeps bringing this image to mind:

Isn’t it amazing where things grow? Rocks wouldn’t seem to be a good flowerbed, but here they are with just a little soil. With God, we can find hope in the most unlikely places.

Writing about hope has been my way of combating depression. While, I still do the other things to help, it has been the first time I’ve made such a concerted effort to turn the wave of my thoughts. It has been a blessing and a wonderful choice.

I’m going to She Speaks. I’m working on a book proposal about hope. It’s not meant to just be for those who are depressed. I want it to reach a broader audience. But, I need 3 chapters. I’ve got some ideas and have started and stopped various things. But now I am starting to panic. It is so close….

I thought I would ask, if you’ve read some of my stuff on hope or even if you are new to my site, does any one stand out to you? No, I’m not asking you to spend hours reading — unless you want to. But if there was one idea that grabbed you and you remember it, could you leave me a note? I’ll hunt down the specifics. Just jot something like — “The difference between your cats being a princess or stray” or “Your thought about the moon” or “Riding horses.”

While I have the ideas and somethings started, I think this would help me know what speaks to people and some encouragement as I stay up late and get up early to write and to speak. (I opted for the speaker’s track officially, but I’m really doing a combination.)

I’m going on June 19th. And the conference starts the late afternoon of the 20th. But since I’m there early, they gave me early appointments on the 20th (11:30 and noon) for my book proposal. I am meeting with an agent and the representative from Howard House.

Please pray!

As I wrote in a post last week, I enjoyed the new Narnia — Prince Caspian movie even if they did add and change a few things. It’s made me want to go back and read the books and see what lines up.

Please indulge me. I do know it is a story. But today, it somehow got into my mind how odd it must have been (even in a pretend sort of way) for Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy to go back to England after being in Narnia. How odd would it be to grow up and be kings and queens in a magical land and to suddenly be thrust back into your old life? Would your adult self feel strange to be thrust back into a child’s body? Would something about you, your experience, feel as if it pushed against the boundaries of the normal world?

The movie lets on that the children were feeling pretty dissatisfied with ordinary life. Peter even got into a fight. (I checked and that bit isn’t in the book.) It seems “realistic” though. To go from being king to an ordinary boy would be a hard change!

I think there is a piece that relates to our life as Christians. I have, at times, had “mountain top” experiences. These are places where you feel so close to God that you cannot help but be changed. In the Old Testament, Moses met with God as a man meets with a friend. It so changed him that his face radiated God’s glory and he had to wear a veil. In some ways, his experience with God pushed against the boundaries of a normal, ordinary world.

When have you felt changed by being in God’s presence? As I mentioned before, I often think of it more in terms of those special get-away type things. But it doesn’t have to be that. Moses met with God every day. As Mose met with God, God expanded his understanding of his glory.

We may not visibly glow as Moses did, but do our lives push outside the normal boundaries of the everyday life?

For me this week it has been learning about compassion. I don’t believe in coincidences, so when God brings me in contact with three disabled people in one week, I suspect there is something to be learned.

The first was when I was walking on Monday. There was a man pulled up to an outside table. Well, he was actually pulled up to the bench in a wheel chair. Since he couldn’t get closer to the table, he was hunched over and leaning forward to eat from the bench. Both of his legs were in casts. He dropped his fork and let out a string of curses. I came upon him from the back. He was genuinely surprised when I picked it up for him. He thanked me, but then I moved on.

The second was in the office. We often find that we speak a different “language” than some of the people coming in. They use words for documents and procedures that have different meanings than they intend. It frustrates them and us. I was helping a man at the counter. He kept ducking his head in what I thought was an odd manner. But over the course of our 15 minute interaction, he finally had to look at me. I realized that one eye was completely white like the white part of the eyeball missing the iris and pupil. Something told me, “Don’t look away. Everyone does that.” I’ll admit that it was disconcerting. But I met his gaze and explained once more. This time, my explanation, took hold.

The third was as I was getting on the elevator. A man got off. He was drenched from the torrential rain we had just had. As we were in the lower part of the building and he looked bewildered, it was easy to conclude that he was lost. I asked, “Can I help you find something?” He slumped a bit and then held out the sodden papers and gestured. He couldn’t hear and didn’t seem to be able to speak.

They were tax papers. That is not my area. I glanced at the papers and motioned to him to follow me to an office I thought could help. I picked the right office, but the woman at the counter wasn’t about to let me go. She talked to me rather than him. I didn’t know if he read lips or not, but the angle seemed like it would be awkward. I found myself grabbing a pen and paper and jotting things to him. He seemed relieved to have the means to communicate. But just like the woman at the counter, he turned to me and had me relay it!

One of my favorite Bible stories is when Jesus feeds the 5,000. It says that Jesus had compassion on them. Compassion is more than feeling sorry for someone. It is coupled with a desire to alleviate the suffering you see.

All of the instances I related were actually very small instances compared to what they look like here — a couple minutes to fifteen or so. And it’s not that I did any wonderful things: picking up a fork, making eye contact, and jotting some sentences. The bigger thing, I think, was being moved by compassion.

It struck me after the last instance that all three ailments were ones that are mentioned in connection with Jesus:

• “Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy.” (Isaiah 35:6 in a prophecy about the Messiah)
• “In that day the deaf will hear the words of the scroll, and out of gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind will see.” (Isaiah 29:3)
• “Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped.” (Isaiah 35:5)
• The healing of the deaf and mute man in Mark 7.
• All of the healings probably apply.

Jesus came to save. But He also came to make us whole. Each of these men represented some aspect of that awaiting promise to me. We may not have wholeness yet, but we will. Jesus has too much compassion on us to have it any other way. He is moved by our suffering. When we let ourselves be moved by compassion for others, I think it pushes against that normal, ordinary kind of being in the world. While I didn’t work any great miracles, God did let me alleviate some suffering in some small ways. There is hope in knowing that God chooses to use us at all.

And of course, there is hope in knowing that our souls that upon coming to know God, in some ways, have become too big for our frail bodies will one day be released into Jesus’ waiting embrace.

In an attempt to fight a slowing metabolism and lose some weight, I’ve been packing my lunch religiously since the first of the year. This winter I took homemade soup and an apple. As the weather has changed the last week or so, I’ve moved to a sandwich and an apple as well as a healthy walk. (I don’t want to be confined to a microwave and a spoon and bowl.)



Today was not my day. I realized too late that I didn’t have any deli meat and would have to resort to peanut butter and jelly. I love peanut butter in cookies and such. But even as a kid, I didn’t take to PB&J. But, it was all I had on hand, so made myself a sandwich.



Said sandwich and apple was left on the kitchen table. I didn’t realize it until too late and decided I would have to go out but make a wise choice on what I grabbed.



It could have worked, but it was raining at lunch. I don’t mean a sprinkle. It was torrential and I didn’t think my umbrella would even do much good. I was hungry, so I opted for a pop and M&M’s. Seriously, there was nothing else. Okay, I could have had water, but I was tired from a late night at B&N and craved the sweetness.



My lunch was mysteriously missing when I got home. Okay, that isn’t quite true. I found the remnants of the Meijer plastic bag, a shredded napkin, and an otherwise untouched apple on the floor. Guessing that my ravenous little monster had made off with the sandwich, I looked all over the kitchen, living room, and under the beds while she ate her dinner. Did she eat the plastic sandwich bag as well as as an entire sandwich? Was I going to stumble on cat puke at any moment as a result?



Stowed far behind a couch I found this:



I’m not sure how Mali managed to eat the part in the middle, but I am sure that she ingested some plastic. (No cat puke yet, though! I think she must have an iron stomach.) I am glad she didn’t eat the entire thing, but given where it was stowed, I will wager she was saving it for later! I’m just thankful that the plastic appears to have saved the carpet.

Thus, I wage daily food wars on two fronts.

First is with Mali. Everything edible and some inedible things must be securely stored. If I make cookies, I no longer leave them in Tupperware on the counter. They must got into the cupboard or the container will be knocked on the floor and gnawed on!


My other one is with my choices. I’ve hovered between losing 17-20lbs since the first of the year. Five weeks ago, I decided I wanted to lose another 10 before She Speaks June 20-22. Nothing is budging. I need to declare the war more loudly. While losing another 10 in two weeks and keeping it off probably isn’t realistic, I will work towards 4.

I’ve fudged on my pop only every 2-3 days declaration. This may mean I need new resolve.


And hopefully it won’t pour at lunch so I can walk!

When I was a child, I was disappointed to discover that the moon was just a giant rock that didn’t even have it’s own light. It seemed so large in the dark sky that there had to be more to it than that. It dawned on me tonight that there really might be more to it than that. The moon reflects the sun’s light. Perhaps God placed it there in it’s reflective capacity to remind us that even in the dark of night the sun is still shining.

 

I saw Narnia Chronicles — Prince Caspian last weekend. I highly recommend it and I don’t recommend movies that often! (See yesterday’s blog for clips.) I want to share some about it without giving it all away.

So, without too much detail, here are some of my thoughts. Primarily, I think it is about the heart’s posture. You get to see it from several different perspectives: Peter’s decision to move without Aslan, Edmond’s contrast to where he was in the The Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe, Susan’s disenchantment as she realizes that the problem with Narnia is that they ever have to leave, Caspian’s humility, and Lucy’s unerring belief. They are woven together almost seamlessly.

I love the way it asks the question throughout, “Do you want to believe?” It seems that most of the characters (though not all) struggle with some aspect of belief. Do they believe each other? Do they remain true to what they know about Aslan? What is the role of wanting to believe in seeing?

It my mind the story of Jesus not being able to heal in Nazareth because of their unbelief rises up.

Throughout the movie, “Where is Aslan?” is asked. The Narnians struggle at first to even accept the Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy as the kings and queens of old. As one says, “Aslan disappeared the same time you lot did.” Ouch! And from a Narnian perspective it must have felt like abandonment. And even the children must try to figure out where Aslan is . . . . In his abscence and under the tyranny of the neighboring realm, even the trees have gone deep within themselves and never dance.

I know there have been times in my life when I have felt abandoned even by God. I gave up on church for a time. I have, at times, retreated deep within myself. But God is always inviting us to dance.

At one point, Lucy, the youngest faces the invading army alone. She pulls out a small knife and stares unwaveringly at the approaching army. But she is anything but alone . . . . I shall not say more lest I give it away but think Red Sea . . . .

My one disappointment was that my favorite passage from the book (Yes, I’ve read them all) was slightly changed.

“Lucy, he said, “we must not lie here for long. You have work in hand, and
much time has been lost today.”

“Yes, wasn’t it a shame?” said Lucy. “I saw you all right. They wouldn’t believe me. They’re all so –”

From some where deep inside Aslan’s body there came the faintest suggestion of a growl.

“I’m sorry,” said Lucy, who understood some of his moods. “I didn’t mean to start slanging the others. But it wasn’t my fault anyway, was it?”

The Lion looked straight into her eyes.

“Oh, Aslan,” said Lucy. “You don’t mean it was? How could I — I couldn’t have left the others and come up to you alone, how could I?” Don’t look at me like that . . . . oh well, I suppose I could. Yes, and it wouldn’t have been alone, I know, not if I was with you. But what would have been the good?”

“You mean,” said Lucy rather faintly, “that it would have turned out all right — somehow? But how? Please Aslan! Am I not to know?”

“To know what would have happened child?” said Aslan. “No. Nobody is ever told that.”C.S. Lewis

I love that passage. “To know what would have happened? No one is ever told that.” And it speaks to following even when others you trust won’t follow with you . . . .

If you’ve seen the movie, whose heart mirrors yours the most and why? Do you have a favorite clip/part?

I probably should have taken a before and after shot but then I might have been too embarrassed to post them. I did a major cleaning/organizing overhaul on my catch all room yesterday. It was a disaster, an embarrassment. While everything isn’t sorted, a large portion 2/3 or so got toted off to the basement. You can actually walk through that room! This is a major accomplishment.

My basement is unfinished. There are lots of things to prowl around down there. After Katy got closed down there a couple of times without my thinking about it, I generally keep the cats up when I head there. But, I knew it would be a longer project, so I left the door open and decided to count heads when I was through.

Katy had been down there before and tired of it quickly. Mali was enthralled. On my last trip back up I realized she was way under the stairs playing happily. I didn’t think I’d manage to snag her, but when I got to the kitchen I yelled in my most authoritative voice, “Mali! COME!” To my utter astonishment, my command took precedence over what she was so happily doing. She darted up those stairs and came to a halt right in front of me!

While we have worked on “come” for awhile, it has generally been distraction free and with me in sight. Just my body posture and position probably clue her in that treats are forthcoming. This, however, was by the sheer call.

Books will tell you that cats are not generally obedient. They need convincing that they want to do what you are asking. I think humans are like that too. At two, we start with “Why?” While some of that may be about rainbows, it can also be about going to bed.

Growing up I was very obedient. We did not question because we knew the consequences. Perhaps it wasn’t about obedience as much as it was about fear. Even today, I am very law abiding and rule following. However, this belies a questioning heart. Whenever there is room (and sometimes when there is not), I’ve taken my freedom as an adult into an incessant questioning. I need to be convinced on many things.

But there are times when obedience is necessary without knowing the why of it. I think of a child careening through the yard after a ball that has rolled into the street, heedless of the oncoming car. When mom yells, “Suzie, STOP!!!” we hope in that instance Suzy will immediately heed the call.

That call is one of protection. It is also one of relationship. That child knows the mother’s voice like the sheep know the shepherd’s voice.

So, Mali’s immediate obedience over something she was delighting in has caused me to pause. Do I respond so immediately to God’s call? Understanding is a good thing, but sometimes it must be enough to know the ONE who calls and respond with immediate obedience.

It seems that there is hope in that because it reflects the depth of the relationship. Perhaps it is like the “folly” of asking God to teach patience, but I think I will ask anyway. I think it might be worth the risk.

God, teach me to have an obedient heart — when there is time for questions but even more so when an instant response is necessary. Show me what it looks like to have that kind of relationship with you. Teach me to know that the only thing I must understand is your love and call on my life and that those are more than enough to answer any why.