Breaking out of Insanity -- She Speaks & Proverbs 31 Contest

Someone once said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. As a counselor, I know that isn't quite right, but there is a ring of truth to it. I have been dealing with depression since I was 10. That is at least the first time I remember wishing to die. There was no hope of help in my family of origin. We were much to private for anything like that. Thus, I didn't start getting help for it until I was an adult.

Unfortunately, one of the things I have learned is that once you deal with major depression, the likelihood of it recurring increases every time you have an episode.

The fall of 2005 wasn't any different. That fall I went to a conference on abuse called The Wounded Heart put on by author and speaker, Dan Allender. He spoke of an opportunity to go to a conference in May or June that was really along group therapy session. I was hesitant but decided that I needed to do something different. I didn't want to keep running around on that treadmill of depression. So, I called to get information.

There was a long application that had to be filled out that included lots of personal details. I bared my soul and filled it out. Then I found out that you had to do a phone interview as well. So, I anticipated and worried about the call. What would they ask?

The call came in February 2006. They didn't ask much of anything. Instead the call was to say that I wasn't eligible to come! Maybe, they said, in a year --after another year of working with my doctor and therapist. Even though I was nervous and hesitant about the whole thing, I was crushed.

But God had different plans for me. As so often is the case, He gives better gifts than we can imagine.

At some point, Lysa Terkeurst spoke in a nearby town. My counselor, Julie, went to talk. She told me about it and said that she had wished that I could have heard her. She then went on to say that Lysa was going to be in Normal at Hearts at Home. Not being a mom, I didn't think that I could sneak in on that. But I did start checking out her books.

At one point that spring, I emailed her and told her a bit of my story. I was actually surprised that she responded. But as I cruised the web, I checked out Proverbs 31 and found out about She Speaks. Since I had saved for the Wounded Heart conference, I had some money. Having always loved writing, I decided to step out and go. (Please note that I generally hate large crowds, going somewhere like that alone, and traveling alone.)

While I learned a lot about writing and speaking, God used this conference in a mighty way to mend a hurting heart. When I cried on MaryBeth Whalen while trying to meet with her to talk about writing, I think they called the troops out. They got word to me that Lysa wanted me to go to the prayer room and meet with Luanne. I nervously complied (popping in and out several times before staying put). Somewhere in all of that -- talking to MaryBeth, a prayer with Luanne, talking with Teri, and other people -- God wrapped His arms around me and a spiritual part of me relaxed that I don't think had ever relaxed before.

There was a pronounced difference in my life that summer and fall and winter. It turns out it was visible:

• I got a note from one of the members of the church's leadership team saying how touched he was to see me reaching out and talking to people on Sunday mornings. (Me -- the one who assumed no one would want to talk to her.)


• We had a game night in Dec. Even at those things, maybe even more at those things because of the lack of structure, I often felt out of place and was quiet and reserved. That night however, I belly laughed so hard I cried. A couple people announced that watching me was more fun than playing the game. This normally would have sent my self-conscious self into a spin. But, I took it for the compliment it was.


• In Feb. my pastor had me come up and tell the church about starting a private practice in counseling. He said something about the change in me and the church whooped and hollered!

With starting a private practice, I didn't feel like I had the funds to go last year. And then tragedy struck and a dear friend died very suddenly. After one of the most significant breaks in the depression I had ever had, I felt the depression sink it's teeth into me again.

I am working through it. And have determined to "not just do the same old thing and expect results." While I am still going to counseling and all of that, I've had some more practical pieces to the plan: keeping scripture always in front of me, taking a class through a local Christian group, writing weekly on hope to fix my eyes on Jesus, and finding ways to feed my soul.

So, I want to go to She Speaks again for two reasons. First, I think it would feed my soul. Second, I believe with all the writing I have been doing about hope, that a book is forming and God is calling me to go this time with a complete proposal and pitch it. That's scary since I fear rejection, but . . . . Even if it doesn't get accepted, I think I may be writing it as much for myself as for anyone else.

But money is very tight. The business has never really taken off. Along with the depression there has been an increase in doctor bills. This is not to mention two falls -- one off a horse where I broke my tail bone and one fall down a full flight of stairs while playing with my niece where I fractured a few fingers and sprained a knee and ankle. And my roommate moved out this summer and I haven't been able to find a new one. So, it is tight. Yet, I'm cutting away every inch I can to try to be able to come.

Proverbs 31 is sponsoring a scholarship contest. So, this is what I'm entering. These are the reasons I want to go. You can find out about She Speaks by clicking here and you can enter the contest by clicking P31 Contest

Perhaps, it is selfish to want the scholarship since I've been blessed by being able to go once. I don't know. But, it never hurts to try for something. God will somehow provide a way.

Thanks for reading all of this. I hope you will consider going!

Let Me Out I'm Stuck In Your Pocket -- Hope Chronicles 13

Little girls. You never know what they will find funny! Someone at work sent me this free ring tone. "Let me out I'm stuck in your pocket!" said in a high pitched and English accented voice. Elena and Grace thought this was the best! So, when I had them this weekend, there were about 100 requests to hear it one more time. While I thought it was cute, I apparently didn't know just how much fun it could be!




A friend called me Friday morning while I was at work. She is dong the single mom thing and has been under a bit of stress over the last 6 months. She is the independent sort, so for her to ask me to take her girls for the weekend says something about how much she felt like she need a break.




Though it wasn't in my plans, Elena (7) and Grace (5) and I are pals, so I thought that I could swing it. They came at 10:00 on Saturday. Somehow, it turns out that I had promised two meals on Saturday -- one to someone from church who just had surgery and one for a friend's family who was out of town. I don't renege on promises! So, we dropped a casserole off to Kathy, went to the grocery store (interesting event with 2 girls tagging along), grabbed McDonalds as a reward for being such good helpers, dropped supplies off to Kathy because she needed some things from the store, came home and whipped up baked spaghetti, played a few games while it was baking, and then ran it out to my friend's family -- all the while listening to that ring tone.







We got back to my house and my friend, Debbie, called. She invited me to dinner! She could hear the noise in the background, so I explained that the girls were here. She told me to bring them as her children play better with new kids around. We put in a movie for a couple hours and watched it in a "dog pile." I had the couch first and then Grace climbed on and the cats and then Elena. I couldn't move lest I knock someone on the floor, but it was a happy couple of hours.




We then headed over to Joe and Debbie's where we were treated to homemade pizza. The kids ran, played, and belly slid head first down the stairs! We then frosted mini heart shaped cupcakes. It turns out that when you range in ages from 3-7, cupcakes are reusable. They were getting eaten as fast as they got frosted but then we started running low on cupcakes. The kids decided to lick the icing off and decorate multiple times!






So, we've been to church in pajamas (the girls, not me), had lunch, and now Elena is reading and Grace and Mali are napping in a patch of sun as I write. Contentment is sweet even if I'm a little tired from keeping up with them. It has been a good time.


And, I think there is a hope principal to be found in all of this. Hope is meant to be passed on. I think a lot of hope has been passed around as people have served each other. I helped Kathy and my friend's family. (Though, I should point out that I'm not as domestic as all of this makes me sound!) While I'm helping out Grace and Elena's mom, they have also brightened my generally solitary life. And then, Joe and Debbie and their kids having us all over . . . . Interestingly, they had already spent much of the day having another single mom's kids over! I'm sure when they called to invite me they were just thinking one not three! I also know that my friend's family spent part of their morning helping to clean the church and work on the church library.




Ironically, today in church the message was on service. Mark Savage started the service by saying that he wanted us to each listen to the Holy Spirit and write down something we could do for an anonymous (at that point) struggling family in our midst. We've done it a couple times in the past, but we would also be emptying our pockets or purses as an offering for them. Still, this time he wanted it to go beyond finances so bright orange pieces of paper were passed out to put commitments on. He challenged us that we often look to for serving to be categorized and limited, but we need to know "It's not about me!" We can also try to serve depending on who it is. Jesus didn't do that. He washed the feet of Judas.



A couple months ago, I had a conversation where I was complaining about someone else. Julie said to me, "I've found that the people who grate on me the most are the ones I most need to have compassion on." I've been thinking about it the last couple of hours. I think Julie is right. In someways, the things I've done the last couple of days have been easy because of who they are for. I need to ponder who I might be called to serve when it wouldn't come so easily or naturally.



But what does it mean to have compassion on someone? I looked it up online at http://www.thefreedictionary.com/. It said, "Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it." That was humbling to read.



I think it fits biblically. In the gospels, when Jesus feeds the 5,000 it says that he had compassion on them for they were like sheep without a shepherd. There are two things that stand out. First, He understood their plight. Second, He didn't just understand it. He had a deep desire to address it. In fact, that is why He came -- to be the Good Shepherd!



Mark also taught about how in John 12 it talks about how a seed must be planted to multiply. A seed that isn't planted remains alone. The planted seed brings about a great harvest.



So, as Mark talked about us emptying our pockets and (in some ways) our hearts in acts of service, I was reminded of that silly ring tone. Let me out I'm stuck in your pocket! Hope stuck in your pocket is really no hope at all. Hope stuck in your pocket will only wither and die. It's meant to be passed on. Will you let hope out of your pocket today?


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One last picture because it is so cute and an anecdote. At Crosswinds we have a kid oriented service at 9:00 with dancing, singing, skits, and contests. It is called Kid Stuf. Anyway, Joe and Debbie's kids, Raquel and Lucas, know all the songs and sing them loudly at home and in the car and dance. However, we've had Kid Stuf for over a year and they have never gone up front to join the other kids on the floor.




Last night, they were having a lot of fun with Grace and Elena, so we planted that idea that at Kid Stuf they could sit with Grace and Elena. Still, they headed to their normal chairs when they arrived this morning. I said something to Raquel but she seemed unsure. So, I said as excitedly as I could to Lucas, "Want to go sit with Elena?" His eyes lit up and I took that as a "Yes," and before he could change his mind, I snatched him up and carried him off to the front. Raquel, not wanting to be left behind, followed.




They stayed up front the entire time! This is Lucas rocking it out in his pajamas. The only catch was that it meant I also stayed up front and sat on the floor too. Since I was trying to engage them, I felt compelled to attempt the dances. Seeing as I have no rhythm, I'm sure it was quite the sight to see!

Faith on the Edge

I may not be around much this weekend, but I did want to take a moment to answer a question or two. Some of you have noticed that I helped write a book -- Faith on the Edge: Daring to Follow Jesus. I really appreciate you asking about it! It's like asking someone about a much loved child . . . .





It came out the end of 1999 and was published by InterVarsity Press. The big push for it was InterVarsity Christian Fellowship's national student mission's conference.

• It is still available. You can get it at Amazon or through IVP or have a bookstore order it.


• It is a written by a group. Paul Tokunaga was our fearless leader. It is usually indexed under him, though it will eventually come up under Amy Brooke as well. The trick there is that there appears to be another Amy Brooke out there who writes as well. How is that for confusing? So, lately, I've been trying to add the "L" to my name -- Amy L Brooke. Though, that doesn't help with things that have already been written!


• It's a discipleship book. It was written as a tool for people to use in mentoring/discipling. Working for InterVarsity, we particularly had college students in mind. However, I still think it has a lot to say to others. But, I may be biased.


• It is probably unique in that it was written by 6 vastly different people in gender, age, ethnicity, background. We were selected for our diversity. We had in common a love for Jesus and a joy in writing.


• The format is 24 chapters that are each 8-10 pages long with discussion/reflection questions at the end. They are broken into 3 broad categories: 1) Rooted in Christ, 2) Committed in Relationships, 3) Disturbing the World.


• My chapters are: Risking Forgiveness, Only Very Good Together (gender relationships), Knowing God's Heart for the World (missions), and my favorite -- Hope When We Fall.

Working on this was a gift from God. I had submitted a few articles to IV's SLJ (Student Leadership Journal) but had not done much more than that. And then suddenly, Cindy Bunch (an editor at IVP) approached me at the National Staff Conference about the possibility of working on this. I had known Cindy through staffing some camps and working for IVP at the Urbana Mission Conference. She knew I liked to write, but I didn't know she knew I could!

Apparently, they wanted a diverse group even in the regions of the country they came from. Cindy was working with Paul on putting the team together. They had someone from New York, Georgia, Florida, and two from California. They needed a representative from the Midwest. Cindy suggested me. The story goes that since Paul had never heard of me, he nixed the idea. But they couldn't figure out who . . . . Cindy finally suggested that they ask Jeff Yourison, the editor of SLJ. Apparently, I was the first person out of his mouth when they asked. (Thank you, Jeff!) So, I was asked and would have been crazy not to. It's got to be a God thing when an editor approaches a writer-wanna-be!

But, I haven't done much writing since. I'm just beginning again. I think it was that life just happened and the depression worsened and I got really afraid of rejection. I started connecting to Lysa's blog and she left really kind comments for me. I don't think that I would have entered the contest if I hadn't had that affirmation.

Here is a blip from the book. It's from the hope chapter since I'm chronicling hope this year:

He died on January 21, 1924, but over seven decades later I stood in line to view his body in a guarded mausoleum in Moscow's Red Square. Vladimir Ilyich Lenin helped usher Communism into Russia, and for some he was a savior, the ultimate source of hope for a better future. But Communism is no longer the leading force in Russia. As I viewed Lenin's body in 1998, I wondered, What good is a hope that is dead?

A friend once asked, "Do you have hope?" I had to think for a minute. Sometimes I don't feel very hopeful. Some of the sins I struggled with ten years ago, I struggle with today. Some of the things that gave me pain years ago still bring tears to my eyes. I still fail miserably, sometimes on a daily basis. But I do have hope. Having hope is some of the essence of what it means to follow Jesus. I am not the same person I was yesterday or the day before. I have hope for some of the same reasons Peter did.

And then I take a long look at Peter . . . . To fail Jesus so miserably by denying Him when he needed him the most . . . . The dude had to have hope if after doing that he could still jump out of a boat and enthusiastically greet Jesus on the beach.

I want hope like that. Maybe that is why I've come back to it after all these years. If I were Peter, I would have sulked ashamedly in the boat. Not Peter. I want that kind of hope. Finding that hope is probably what all this Hope Chronicle stuff is about.

Well, I should get off the computer and go to bed. I have a friend's two girls (5 & 7) tomorrow morning through late Sunday afternoon. I'm glad it is pajama day at church on Sunday! I won't have to worry about getting them dressed! (Seriously, it really is pajama day on Sunday! Only at Crosswinds . . . .)

A Phobic Horse, A Gaggle of Geese, And Other Things about "MeMe."

I have been included in a new game of tag entitled "MeMe." I was tagged by Dandelion Dayz. We have connected over the last few days through Lysa's from Proverbs 31. So, what follows will be totally random and useless information, though I hope it makes you smile . . . .

The rules for this meme are: (1) Link to the person that tagged you. (2) Post the rules on your blog. (3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. (4) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs. (5) Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.


1. I am full of useless information. Honestly, I may be a bookworm but I am not really a nerd. I have to monkey around with things on the computer before they acutally work and usually then it is pure luck. Still, I have purely useless information that comes out at random times. It's as if it rattles around in my head and then someone says something and it just pops out. Some items include:

• People aren't really allergic to cat hair or dander. Those with cat allergies are rolling their eyes. They are actually allergic to a protien in cat salivia. But given that cats clean themselves with their tongues, their salivia is on their fur, so . . . . Does knowing that make anyone less allergic?



• Just as a square is a rectangle but a rectangle is not a square so a dolphin is a whale but a whale is not dolphin. Dolphins are also one of the only sea creatures that can kill a shark. They do this by ramming them in the gills. (When I was 10 I wanted to be a dolphinologist. I knew there were archeologists and geologists, so I came up with dolphinologist.)



• If you have a lighted match and blow out a burning candle and hold the burning match in the candle's smoke, the fire will jump back down on the wick. This makes a great magic trick! The smoke contains bits of wax and wick and the flame burns/jumps back down there.



• I can name the 13 original colonies/states in the order in which they ratified the constitution.



• Ben Franklin wanted the national bird to be the turkey rather than the Bald Eagle.



• Just as a bunch of puppies is a litter, a bunch of penguins is called a parcel, a bunch of kittens is a kindle, a bunch of geese is a gaggle. These are things you need to know (acording to the book I studied) to get into graduate school!

2. I got stuck in an elevator once. Actually, it was technically a "lift" since I was in England at the time. (Oh, another bit of useless trivia: Margaret Thatcher's birth place was Grantham, England. That's where I was going to school at the time through the University of Evansville's British Campus Harlaxton.) Luckily, it was one of the really old time lifts that were more like a "cage." So, people could talk to us as they walked up the stairs around us.

3. The first word I ever purely sounded out and understood in Russian was the Russian word for ice cream! (What does that say about what I find important?) Without meaning to be irreverent, it was like the point in the Helen Keller movie where Teacher is spelling "water" and there is understanding. Suddenly, all those Russian letters had meaning! I got so excited, I'm sure the Russian student beside me thought I was nutts. I spent 6 weeks in Russian on one of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship's Global Projects. We did it as a cultural exchange. We taught English and they taught us Russian. We each had a Russian roommate and alternated between fun events and Bible studies in the evenings. It was a really stretching summer!

4. I am part of my church's worship team even though I can't sing or play a note! Well, actually, I'm on it because I can put together slides and run power point. Tonight we had worship practice. At one point the leader says to me, "We'll do verse 1, chorus, verse 2, 2nd chorus, bridge, verse 3, and then the 3rd verse. Okay?" To which I replied, "Was that Latin you were just speaking?" I like music, but I'm not musical. What is the bridge? So much for 3 years of piano and 4 years of violin. Not a note or chord stuck in my brain - unless you count chopsticks and the opening of the Star Wars Theme.

5. Due to the amount of things I accomplish, I give the illusion of being organized. The key word is illusion. This is a picture of my table (otherwise known as the mail depository). Please note that there are 3 baskets on the table that I recently bought to try and organize this mess. Those who don't know me well, drop hints that I should help others with their organization! And then, my friends know the truth. I recently called one asking for a phone number because I had put the church directory away and couldn't find it. She quipped, "So has your disorganization caught up with you?" No, it was my attempt at organization that did me in. I knew where it was when it was in a pile!

6. Yes you read the headline correctly. I rode a phobic horse. No one knew why, but Eddie, the horse I often took lessons on, had a phobia of concrete. If he had a saddle on and a tightened girth and stepped on concrete, he would literally fall down and think that he could not get up and thrash about on the ground until they got the saddle off. It was a scary thing, so I had to be careful where I rode him. And then I had a dog, Cassie, with anxiety so bad that the vet put her on anxiety medication. Interestingly, at the time, I was working on my counseling degree! I quipped a number of times, "A phobic hores, an anxious dog, . . . if I had a parakete it would have delusions of grandeur and think itself an eagle!"

Now, onto who I am tagging. I hope you will be good sports and play along:

Julie from Jewlz Sightings She is a new bloggy friend.

Heather from Mummblings of a Mommy Monk She is another new bloggy friend.

Laura at OKane Corral I visited her site this weekend and liked it. She seems very sweet.

Lelia at Write From the Heart Yet another bloggy friend. I was really touched by her post on Monday about a gift of love. You should check it out!

Anne from My Life As A Newlywed I think she'll give a creative response. She had just started college when I started getting to know her family, so I don't know her as well as the rest. But I do appreciate her heart. She is extremely organized. She did amazing things with VBS at the church for a few years -- including castle blocks painted on the walls. (We worship in a warehouse, so why not?)

Lastly, Lysa because I'm dieing to know what kind of gut ripping randomness she might think up.

Well, I'm off. Hope, you've enjoyed yourselves. Let me know if you try the candle trick or manage to work "parcel of penguins" into a conversation.

Do Not Stop On Tracks -- Hope Chronicles 12

Do Not Stop On Tracks. I pass this sign on a daily basis. The tracks run between a tiny section of Linden Street between a set of stop lights a block or two apart. Much to my chagrin, there are trains that actually use this track when I am in a hurry to get somewhere. But please, who would be silly enough to stop on these tracks?

There is a sign, so it must have happened at some time or another some where. And it's such a short piece, if you don't judge it right with the lights, it might be easy to get hemmed in. And then, I can imagine the red and white poles going down and the lights flashing -- and the training coming. Recipe for a disaster!

Still, it seems to be human nature to ignore these kinds of signs. And children who live near train tracks, have to be told over and over, not to play on the tracks. Sometimes, it seems, that we flirt with danger.

I'm fairly law abiding. (I've never gotten a speeding ticket!) So, stopping on these tracks isn't really an issue. But, I found God asking me in the last couple of days, "So, what tracks do you stop on?" Me? Law abiding, Amy?

I recently have become acquainted with a woman, Kathy, who is new to my church. A friend had dinner with her and then told me I had to meet her because we process the entire issue of singleness in the same way. My interest peaked. However, we just got introduced 2 weeks ago and didn't have time for more than a "Hello." Then she had surgery. My friend was trying to find meals for her and I volunteered to make something, but I didn't stay when I dropped it off because she had really just gotten out of the hospital.

Monday night I made my famous chocolate chip cookies to take in for a food day today at work. (Click here for the recipe and my "secret" way of making them). I always make plenty to share, so I decided to drop some cookies off to Kathy. After all, chocolate chip cookies have medicinal purposes after something like surgery.

When I stopped in, two of Kathy's nieces were there visiting. They were just settling in to watch a movie together, so the cookies couldn't have had better timing. I was there for minutes, but I felt my heart sink as I left. I stopped on the tracks.

I have always wanted children. Barring that for the moment, I have always had this fantasy of "aunt-dom." I don't know where it came from. My mom was the youngest of 17 (7 half siblings and 10 full siblings), so I had a plethora of aunts and uncles. (Though, I would be hard pressed to name them all!) With that many siblings, that meant that there were tons of nieces and nephews. So, maybe it is hard to be super aunt to so many. So, I never had much significant contact with my aunts and uncles.

Still, in "aunt-dom" I imagined being the perfect aunt. I would go to soccer games and basketball games, plays and parties, take my nieces and nephews to McDonalds, let them stay up late, raptly listen to their stories, and be an all-around-cool kind of aunt. It hasn't worked out that way. We live to far apart and there are certain family dynamics that have made it an impossible dream. But still, I dream of it.

Walking in on Kathy and her nieces was like walking in on part of that dream. There was an easiness about it. One niece was helping with something. Kathy teased the younger of the two about what her present for her upcoming birthday might be. My heart lept-- I want a day like this with my nieces and nephews!

My heart fell because I was instantly seized with jealousy. And then, I dawdled along those tracks for the rest of the day and evening. I went to a class run by a Christian group in town. I had never really been before. It's running for 6 weeks. I got there early and found a seat. But that jealousy thing crept in. Was I the only one sitting alone?

I prayed about it this morning. God brought to mind this sign. He also brought to mind a friend's comment the other day. Jill was with me when I dropped off my meal to Kathy. We talked briefly and somehow it came up that I often spend time with Jill's children. Jill said something to the affect of not having family in town and me being an "adopted aunt" to them. God reminded me of the tough spring I had. When I was feeling a bit better, I had Austin and Kolya over. One of them said, "It's been 2 months since we spent the night!" I was astonished they had been keeping track. There couldn't have been a sweeter compliment.


How do we get off those tracks when the bars have come down and the lights are flashing? Philippians 4:8 has some good advice. "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." (NIV)


So I'm counting my blessings. My biological nieces and nephews might be far away, but God has granted me several other kids to invest in -- to go to track meets, play games, indulge in little ways, cheer on during basketball, and hopefully help mold in positive ways. And He nudged me about the class I went to as well. Did I have to sit alone or did I choose to sit alone? (Ouch!) Perhaps, next week I need to approach someone and introduce myself . . . . Perhaps I'll meet a kindred spirit or a future friend.

(Here's a picture of 3 of 8 blessings I was crazy enough to take ice skating for my birthday in December! It was my most memorable birthday.)

We all have to cross the tracks at times. That is a given. Just don't stop on the tracks. It is a sure way to lose sight of hope.

Oh, Golly!

Oh, golly! What is a girl to say? I won the P31 writing contest with an entry below called "The Determined Life." I am thrilled and humbled. I read so many good entries this weekend. I didn't think I had a chance.... That and I'm not use to winning contests -- unless the cakewalk when I was 10 counts!

Proverbs 31 sponsored it. It was through Lysa Terkeurst's blog . There is a list of all the entries. You should peruse them. They are all really good. I think there were about 110. I spent a lot of time reading and commenting this weekend. It was very encouraging!

Thanks Lysa and P31. I think you made my day, my week, and maybe my year!

A Rose By Any Other Name -- Hope Chronicles 11

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose , by any other name would smell as sweet." It's a famous line from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliette. And the conclusion is that the name isn't what matters. Romeo would still be Romeo even if he wasn't a Montague (but it would have been easier if that was the case). A rose smells the same no matter what it is called.


Can I weigh in on both sides? Yes, a rose still smells the same, but there is something significant about our names. Why else would we be hurt when someone cannot remember our names? However, I am also willing to admit that this may be a pet peeve of mine. As you might guess from the picture, I am an identical twin. I do mean identical. We were constantly mixed up as children. I know the trick of telling us apart in some of the more "staged" photos. (We were placed in alphabetical order.) Give me purely candid shots and I am often guessing too!


Recently, I had some friends' children over. One found a tape and wanted to know what movie I had rented. It was actually a video made out of the reel to reel (yes, I'm dating myself) tapes of when I was a child. He wanted to see and asked, "So which one are you?" All the motion of two busy two-year-olds left it impossible for me to decide which one I was!



While some twins "outgrow" this identicalness, Sara and I still look remarkably alike. She recently attended the Hearts at Home conference in Grand Rapids, MI -- about 5 1/2 hours from where I live. Several people from my church are involved in Hearts. Sara had person after person come up and exclaim, "What are you doing here? I didn't know you were coming." To which she replied, "I am NOT who you think I am!"


In light of this, I'll have to forgive my grandfather for never knowing us apart. He called all the granddaughters "Honey" and "Missy" interchangeably while we were growing up. At about 14, it dawned on us to ask, "Now, which one am I?" We were horrified to find he didn't know!


Perhaps it is teenage girl thing, but I went through a phase of deciding what I would name my children when I had them. In bookstores, I could be found perusing the baby name books because somewhere in my head I had decided that when I named my children, I wanted the names to have meaning. This meant that they needed to be named after someone important in my life or that the name actually meant something. I planned out how I would tell them what their name meant and that each time I spoke their name I was speaking that characteristic into being in them. Lovely thought, isn't it?



At the same time, I could not resist knowing what my name meant. All the books agreed that "Amy" meant "beloved." However, I never had the courage to ask my parents why they chose that name for me. I know very little about the day I was born except that they had no clue that they were in for a bonus baby! I do not know if that excited them or overwhelmed them. I know only that we were premature and had to stay in the hospital for awhile and that Sara went home several days before I did. I do not know if they kept a vigil while we were there. I really know next to nothing.


But I do know that I did not feel "beloved." My family was a dysfunctional mess and "I love you" was not said and affection was not shown. (Even as adults, my sisters and I cannot seem to move beyond this.) I learned early on that it was better to read unobserved in the corner than to be noticed. If you were noticed, there was typically a sharp word or a criticism or a reprimand or any number of things. So, in my mind, I think I have always felt that it was some cruel joke like calling the fat kid "Skinny" to be called "Beloved" and not feel loved.


Most of my Christian life, I have approached God with caution. I've sometimes thought that I had snuck in the backdoor and could only stay as long as He didn't notice me. For awhile I opted out of church. When I came back, I came back literally trembling. For months I did not partake in communion just in case God might strike me down with a great zap from heaven for sullying His table after having abandoned church for so many months and being a sinner.

Luckily, even when I abandoned church, God did not abandon me. God has brought me into a great community of believers. From my friend Jill I have learned to say, "I love you." I also believe she has chosen to love me. I was (and to some degree still am) as prickly as porcupine when she first met me. (It can't be easy to love a porcupine!) Perhaps, more importantly than learning to say it, I have learned to hear it and receive it and believe it from others and God. I am still working to know how to rest in it.

Love. It drew Jesus to the cross for me. It made Him stay there until it was through when legions of angels were waiting for His call to sweep in and bring Him down from that brutal cross. For my sake, He endured the ultimate agony when taking my sin upon himself, God turned away. He did it for me. Because of that, I can never say that I am "unloved."

I do not profess to understand the book of Revelation. But with my fascination with names, Revelation 2:17 has always caught my imagination. "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it."

A name only between me and God, written on a pure white stone. With as much as I've struggled to understand His love, I might not be surprised to find my own name written there -- "Amy, loved one." I have hope because of His love for me.

The Determined Life

I don’t know what I was thinking except that I needed to do something completely different to get out of the particular hole I was in the summer of 2001. (Unfortunately, having struggled with major depression and posttraumatic stress disorder for 28 years, there have been lots of holes!) I had found in the past that learning a new skill, something in which to invest the intensity of my emotions, often helped. Knowing nothing about horses and having been led around on one only twice in my life, I showed up at the stables in a nearby town and they put me on a horse named Streak. Once upon a time, he had been quite the horse and won awards. Now, he was a dutiful lesson horse and the instructor taught me how to groom him, sit properly (More complicated than you might think!) and walk him in big, lazy circles. At some point as I rhythmically swayed in the saddle, I intrinsically knew that I had found my next new skill to learn. Little did I know that I would learn a lot about life as well!

The next week, I was put on another lesson horse, Eddie. Eddie was the largest horse in the stable and had an insatiable appetite. Hay was kept above our heads at one end of the arena. When Eddie went by, he often had the tenacity to stop, crane his neck up, and have a snack. They called it “Eddie's drive through.” I quickly learned that I had to have Eddie's full attention and a certain amount of momentum when we were near that hay to keep him from stopping! Eddie, however, quickly became my most trusted partner.

By April 2002 I was learning to jump. You start out trotting over poles on the ground and then they get raised. Eventually I jumped 18 inch to 2 foot jumps even in a series of 8-10 jumps. It was so like flying!

I confess that I initially thought jumping was all about the horse and that I was just along for the ride. Nothing could be further from the truth! Just as dogs are pack animals, horses are herd animals. As long as the rider has established herself as the leader, they take their cues from the rider. I was amazed to find out that Eddie could tell where I was looking. Did you catch that? I was on top of him and he could tell where I was looking? It was if sitting a string ran from my backbone to his. When I looked a certain way, that is the way he would go. When I turned my head, my shoulders turned as well. My body position changed and this clued him in.

While Eddie trotted willingly over the poles on the ground, I found that he often came to a dead stop even with poles inches off the ground. Unfortunately, this had hard results for me. At least twice, I went on over the jump without Eddie!

The lesson learned - always look where you are going! When riding to a jump, look up and over it and onto the next one and past that one . . . . When I looked down at the jump, he didn't know where to go. Being rather old and disinclined to work, he was more than happy to stop until I figured it out!

In the animal kingdom, there are a few means of protection. One is camouflage. If a predator can't see you, he can't eat you. Then there is fight. This one is typically the last resort for most animals. And there is flight. Horses are flight animals. They spook easily. In herds, there is always a lookout. They run if frightened.

This also played into the jumping. Eddie could tell if I was nervous or scared. (Remember the string?) My nervousness usually played out all over my body. When we came to a jump and I seemed unsure, Eddie decided (though he had jumped higher millions of times) that he wasn't sure either. So, stopping and looking at the scary jump (that he could merely step over) made more sense than attempting it!

Look where you are going. Ride the next two jumps and not just the one in front of you.

This is biblical as well. I believe it is what Jesus did when He went to the cross. The Bible teaches that Jesus died willingly for us. He chose to do it. But it also tells us that in garden the night He was arrested, He prayed that God would take this cup from Him. He felt enough anxiety about it that his sweat was like blood. Luke 22:44 says, "And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground." (NIV) He was feeling enough anxiety, anguish, that the stress caused the capillaries in his body to begin to break.

So, what kept Him from fleeing when He knew what was coming? Hebrews 12:2 says, "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (NIV) What was the joy set before Him? It was a couple of things. First, it was being reunited with His Heavenly Father. Second, it was looking down through time at you and me. We are the joy set before Him.

I confess that I have wasted many of my 39 years looking at life’s jumps. Okay, the truth is, I’ve wasted too much time looking longingly into life’s arena rather than even attempting riding. Once I started riding in the arena of life, I’ve found myself paralyzed by fear and anxiety, unable to step over the smallest hurdle let alone tackle the higher jumps.

I had to learn to ride Eddie with determination and look beyond the jumps. Now, I am learning how to live with determination. I will not be defined by life’s tragedies and circumstances. I will be defined by the One who paid so dearly for me.

How does this play out in day to day life or when I am in a major depressive episode? Several things come to mind.

• Stay close to God through prayer and scripture.


• Keep scripture always in front of you. A friend has been encouraging me for several years to write out scripture on index cards and stash them all over the house, the car, at work, . . . . I’m finally doing it!


• Lean into a community of believers. Riders in shows or on the Olympics always look pristine. However, the truth is that horseback riding is downright dirty! Stables are dirty and dusty and horses sweat! I like to be clean, but I found caring for Eddie was a joy. I liked the intimacy of the moments spent brushing him down. Being in a community of believes means getting down and dirty too! Share your dirt and let someone help brush it away and do it for them!


• Look past the jumps! Maybe it is a struggle with weight, problems with you marriage or a friend or a child, conflict, health issues, things from the past, or depression. It’s hard work, but choose how you think. I literally had to think my way over the jumps while riding. Now, I have to do it in life as well. I struggle so much with negative thoughts that this year I’ve committed to writing weekly on some aspect of hope to combat that negative pull.
  
  Above all else, fix your eyes on Jesus. He is the joy set before us!
  
  *I certify that this is an original work. It is reworked from a blog posted on 1/12/08 on this site. If selected, I give Proverbs 31 permission to use this work.
  

Out of Focus -- Hope Chronicles 10

I have found over the years that learning something new is good for me. In 2001, I took my first horseback riding lesson. I don't know what I was thinking. I believe I had been on a horse twice. Both of those times I was walked around while on the horse. It wasn't really riding. But in July 2001, I showed up at the stables in a nearby town and they put me on a horse named Streak. Apparently, at one point, he had been quite the horse and won all kinds of awards. Now, he was a dutiful lesson horse and the instructor taught me how to walk and sit and groom.

At that point I was hooked. The next time I came, I was put on another lesson horse, Eddie. Eddie was probably the largest horse in the stable. He had an insatiable appetite. At one end of the indoor arena, they kept hay above our heads. When Eddie went by, he often had the tenacity to stop and have a snack. He could reach it if he craned his neck up. They called it Eddie's drive through. I quickly learned that I had to have Eddie's full attention and a certain amount of momentum when we were near that hay to keep him from stopping! Eddie, however, quickly became my favorite. The picture is of me and Eddie. Can you tell how big he is?

By April 2002 I was learning to jump. You start out trotting over poles on the ground and then they get raised. Eventually I jumped 18 inch to 2 foot jumps even in a series of 8-10 jumps. It was so like flying!

I confess that I initially thought jumping was all about the horse and that I was just along for the ride. Nothing could be further from the truth! Just as dogs are pack animals, horses are herd animals. As long as the rider has established herself as the leader, they take their cues from the rider. I was amazed to find out that Eddie could tell where I was looking. Did you catch that? I'm on top of him and he can tell where I am looking? I imagined it as if sitting a string ran from my backbone to his. When I looked a certain way, that is (unless being particularly unruly) the way he would go. When I turned my head, my shoulders turned as well. My body position changed and, my best guess, is that is what clued him in.

Back to jumping. Initially, I did think that I was only along for the ride. While he trotted willingly over the poles on the ground, I found that he often came to a dead stop even with poles 6 inches to a foot off the ground. Unfortunately, this had "hard" results for me. At least twice, I went on over the jump without Eddie!

The lesson learned - always look where you are going. When riding to a jump, look up and over it and onto the next one and past that one . . . . When I looked down at the jump, he didn't nowhere to go. Being rather old and disinclined to work, he was more than happy to stop until I figured it out!

In the animal kingdom, there are a few means of protection. One is camouflage. If a predator can't see you, he can't eat you. Then there is fight. This one is typically the last resort for most animals. And there is flight. Horses are flight animals. They spook easily. In herds, there is always a lookout. They run if frightened.

This also played into the jumping. Eddie could tell if I was nervous or scared. Remember the string? My nervousness usually played out all over my body. When we came to a jump and I seemed unsure, Eddie decided (though he had jumped higher millions of times) that he wasn't sure either. So, stopping and looking at the scary jump (that he could merely step over) made more sense than attempting it!

Look where you are going. Ride the next two jumps and not just the one in front of you.

I think this is biblical as well. I believe it is what Jesus did when He went to the cross. The Bible teaches us that Jesus died willingly for us. He chose to do it. But it also tells us that in garden the night He was arrested, He prayed that God would take this cup from Him. He felt enough anxiety about it that his sweat was like blood. Luke 22:44 says, "And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground." I read once that this means that he was feeling enough anxiety, anguish, that the stress caused the capillaries in his body to begin to break.

So, what kept Him from fleeing when He knew what was coming? Hebrews 12:2 says, "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." What is the joy set before Him? I think it is a couple of things. First, it was being reunited with His Heavenly Father. Second, it was looking down through time at me and you. We are the joy set before Him.

This week has been a rough one. I confess that I have been looking at the jumps and not past them. Sigh. There are so many hurdles: things at work, finances, relationships, loneliness . . . . I did okay Monday and Tuesday, but by Wed. I was falling apart. At one point at work, something came up that I had done to the best of my knowledge. (We'll just say, my knowledge wasn't good enough.) I ended up in tears. I've been working on my eating habits. One week of watching it and eating more fruits and vegetables (up to 4 servings in a day), helped me lose 3.5lbs in a week. This week, I did the same and lost less than a pound. I was clearly anticipating another 3.5! Not so. I had a conflict with a friend. My thoughts have turned repeatedly to things I don't have but deeply long for rather than to being thankful for what I do have. Add to that, the woman's monthly cycle. (I confess to as a teen and in my twenties thinking it was all in everyone's head because it didn't bother me. Then I hit 30 and now I'm only a year shy of 40 . . . . Well, it is NOT all in the head! I'm at those couple of days of I-know-it's-coming-just-get-it-over-with!)

So, it has not been a good few days. Perhaps those things would have bothered me some anyway. But, I know that took my eyes off of Jesus. I looked at the jumps instead of at the prize. I looked at the jumps instead of my hope.

But today is a new day. I can regroup. I can refocus. I can fix my eyes on Jesus.

Cats, God's Work, and Pure Hope -- Hope Chronicles 9

I have always thought of myself as a dog person. But a couple of years ago, I had a dog. I absolutely loved her. But after six months, it became clear that it wasn't working out. She - seriously - had anxiety. The vet even put her on anxiety medication! It manifested itself whenever I would leave. She clearly needed to be with someone who was home more.

I was distraught over having to give her up. (I still tear up if I think on it too much, but it part of this tale.) I had gotten her at the Humane Society and had talked to them weekly since getting her. They promised they could find her a home and suggested a cat. Why would I want some aloof cat? They loaned me one (something they don't usually do) for the weekend. Two years later I have two cats that think they are dogs. They literally greet me at the door and follow me from room to room. Even though I have a huge bed, they pretty much sleep next to me or on top of me!

I brought the kitten (right) home the day before Thanksgiving. I thought and thought about what to name her. I came up with Amalia (A-ma-leah) but Mali (Ma -lee) for short. Why the name? I actually knew someone once with the name. I liked it. But more than that, I liked the potential for the meaning. I got on the computer and searched name sites. I put in "hope" and came up with things like Esperanza. I suppose I could have called her Essie for short, but my eyes alighted on the Arabic word "amal" which means, of course, hope.

Since I am focused on hope, why not use it as a name for my kitten as well.

Mali was a stray before she turned up at the Humane Society at 4 months. I got her at 6 months and have had her for a month and a half. While she is very loving, she still acts like a stray when it comes to food. She will hop up on the table (though she isn't allowed) and steal something off your plate. Oh, she is a bit sly about it. She waits for just the right moment. Once she has it, it is hers!

I first witnessed this when I had a pizza crust in the garbage waiting to go out to the garage. I was watching TV. I heard this fierce growl. Mali was crouched with the crust (wider than her head) in her mouth. My other cat, Katy, was nearby. This was the reason for the growl. Since then she has snatched and ran with margarine wrappers, a piece of bread, and a piece of lettuce. While I didn't want her digesting the wrapper, so obviously, I had to get that from her. I also retrieved the bread and lettuce at personal risk (her claws are sharp and her growl is fierce). While these might not have harmed her, I didn't want her thinking that she could do that, reinforcing her by letting her keep her prize.

I had thought that a month or so of consistent feeding would weaken her resolve. Actually, I think it has gotten worse! I have now lost 3 dish rags left on the sink to dry (but obviously smelling of soap and food) to the recesses of the house because she has made off with them. She is now banished to the bathroom (crying piteously) each time I cook or even eat anything.

While I don't approve and would love to break her of it, I must say I admire her tenacity. For someone so little to growl so fiercely at someone so much bigger than her, for her to be so single minded in her pursuit, well there is something to be said for that.

Am I that fierce, that single minded in my pursuit of God and hope? I want to be!

As I have said, I knew a girl once named Amalia. I thought they had told me the name meant hope. But, I couldn't find it on-line or in any of the books I looked at. I had pretty much settled on it and decided that it was a feminized form of the word Amal. One night at the bookstore, I found a Christian naming book. Before shelving it, I looked. It was in there! But instead of just meaning "hope," it meant "a work of God."

And what is hope? It is a work of God in our lives. Without Gods work in our lives, without God, we live and those who have no hope. We can be sure of hope because our hope lies in an unchanging, unfaltering, and utterly dependable God. Did you catch all of that? UNCHANGING. UNFALTERING. UTTERLY DEPENDABLE.

Granted, it is more than we can fathom living in a world of broken people who let us down. But God is not a broken person. Oh, we break his heart sometimes, but it isn't the same thing. Even though we are faithless, he remains faithful. Once He has us, he holds us close.

J.I. Packer is a modern day theologian. In his book, KNOWING GOD, he writes:

"What matters supremely, therefore, is not, in the last analysis, the fact that I know God, but the larger fact which underlies it -- the fact that HE KNOWS ME. I am graven on the palms of His hands. I am never out of His mind . . . . He knows me as a friend, one who loves me, and there is no moment when His eye is off me, or His attention distracted from me, and no moment, therefore, when His care falters. . . . There is a tremendous relief in knowing that His love to me is utterly realistic, based at every point on a prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery now can disillusion him about me, in the way I am so often disillusioned about myself, and quench His determination to bless me."

Read that a couple of times. We are graven on the palms of His hands, never out of his mind. He is never distracted by a cell phone or someone pulling out in traffic. He doesn't waffle if He finds out something new about us because He already knows all there is about us. We can never disillusion Him. He knows the worst about me and loves me -- enough to go to the cross for me. That is essence of pure hope -- resting in God's love for me.

What does it look like to fully rest in that?

What does it look to fiercely follow after God?

What does it look like to seek him with a single minded focus?

I'm not sure. What it looks like in my life may be different than what it looks like in my life, but I would love to know what it looks like for you!

I am just beginning to figure out what it means for me. I think some of what it means for me is:

• being faithful to read and study His word


• keeping scripture in front of me


• being aware of my tendency to always, first and foremost, wonder how something will impact me rather than those around me


• choosing to serve


• focusing on hope

And more, but I am still figuring it out.

At some point in our lives we realize we are helpless to save ourselves -- that no amount of work on our part, no amount of trying, no amount of effort, no amount of anything will save us. It's typically a humbling and a bit of a scary place to be. But God steps in and says, "I will make a way for you." He offers us hope through the blood of Jesus shed on the cross. He says we can come no matter what state our lives are in. He holds out his hands . . . and dies so that we won't have to be separated from Him forever. The Cross is the purest picture of hope there is.

On a side note, my other cat's name is Katy. It comes from Katherine meaning pure. So, without realizing it I have ended up with a daily reminder of "pure hope" in Katy (pure) and Amalia (hope). That just came to mind last night!

What Are You Passing On? - Hope Chronicles 8

Why didn't anyone tell me it was a theme week? You guys are suppose to let me in on those things!

Do you remember those days in elementary school or at day camp that were theme days? There was "Backwards Day" or "Hat Day" or "Pajama Day" or whatever. The great dilemma was if you should participate or not. If you came wearing everything backwards and no one else did . . . . Or if you were the only person not to wear a hat . . . .

This week has felt like a theme week. Actually, it's just been the last few days, but it doesn't bode well for the New Year. It has been "How rude can you be?" week. People have been down right mean with no real reason.

Wed. night I worked at the bookstore. There is an educator discount that has to be used for classroom items. A faculty member came up and wanted to use his discount for the paper he was buying. He showed me the card. I read the back and pointed out that it wasn't applicable for the newspaper. He told me that I was "most certainly wrong" and raised his voice and leaned forward. When I tried to show him what it said on the card, he just got more incensed. It was a 20% discount on a $1.50 paper. We are talking pennies not major dollars. His demeanor so alarmed another cashier that she fetched the management.

Thursday I was walking to my car after work. I was crossing with the walk signal. A guy was driving buy and yelled, "Don't jay walk you @!*% #*@!!!" I had the signal. I wasn't even crossing his lane of traffic. I hadn't stepped out in front of him or anything of that nature. I don't have a clue as to what provoked him. Oh, yeah -- it was like 24 degrees out. What possesses someone to roll down their window in that kind of weather and yell obscenities?

Today was my super long day at my data entry job. I go in at 6:30 and leave at 4:30 with a half hour lunch. At 4:20 I answered the phone. The woman said, "You're probably getting ready to close up for the day." I said that we were closing at 4:30, but could I help her? She asked for some information. I told her I couldn't give that to her over the phone but offered to transfer her to an office that could help her. She declined and switched topic to asking about who owned her land in 1911. I explained that the computer system only went back about 30 years and that would involve a search of the books. I also explained that I really needed the parcel number. She pressed. I told her I would like to help her but that there wasn't quick access to that information. I also explained that I am relatively new and hadn't been trained on a book search so I would have to get someone else's assistance. Her response, "Well, that much is obvious!" Major break in the conversation. I think I was stunned into silence. She finally said, "I was just kidding!" I replied, "I'm not at all sure how to respond to your comment." She again insisted she was "kidding." I eventually managed to transfer her to a supervisor.

So, it feels like it has been "How rude can you be?" week. I haven't intentionally participated but have definitely been impacted and it has not been fun!

If nothing else, it has gotten me thinking. I don't know if these people 1) have never been taught manners, 2) were having horrendous days, or 3) have no clue about about social discourse and being polite. Whatever the reason, I think they were passing on despair. I know I could feel the impact.

What do you pass on to others? It can be intentional or not. Sometimes, it can be a kind word or a smile. Maybe it is telling the management at your favorite grocery store when someone was particularly helpful. Maybe it is going out of your way for someone.

New Year's in central Illinois was greeted with snow. I love how it looks, but I abhor the shoveling chore that comes with it. It actually turns me a bit melancholy. I admit that my thought as I set out to shovel on Tuesday was, "Why did this happen to me?" Of course, I am the queen of taking things personally and weather is so personal. Not! And it turned to a long whine of, "Why does everything come down to me?" This is true since I am single. If the vacuum gets run, I have to run it. If the litter box gets changed, it's because I changed it. If the bills get paid, I paid them. But there is a difference in excepting reality and wallowing in self-pity. Yes, I ventured into the realm of self-pity.

God brought to mind the message from this past Sunday. My pastor and friend, Mark Savage, mentioned doing acts of service. One of the examples, he used was shoveling snow. Being in self-centered mode I thought, "I wish someone had surprised me by shoveling my drive!" God tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, "This is not about you."

















So, I shoveled my neighbors drive and sidewalk and path on the deck and put down salt. Before you shout, "Good job!" please note that I was deeply tempted to quit half way through. It was sheer willpower and the deep knowledge that it would look even worse to have just done half of it than to have done none of it that kept me at it.

And, I was determined to be obedient.

Like me, my neighbor is single. So, everything falls to her as well. My intent, besides obedience, was to pass on a bit of hope. I don't know that she was even home and I haven't seen her and there is no way she would know for sure that it was me. But I do hope that it brightened her day and made her feel cared for.

What do you pass on intentionally or unintentionally? Do you come ushering in a wave of despair that swallows others up in it's wake or do you buoy people towards heaven on the springboard of hope? Check yourself periodically. Make big and little intentional choices to pass on hope!

Side note: While I do have to do most things myself, God blessed me tonight with a couple of helpers. Kolya (13) and Austin's (11) parents were having dinner with friends, so the boys spent the evening here. While I cleaned up from dinner, they took down the Christmas tree (another task I hate). It was down in record time and everything stowed in the basement. We were then free to enjoy an evening of games and playing with the cats. After a difficult few days, they were bearers of hope and peace to me.

The Future Is Nothing To Fear -- Hope Chronicles 7

I struggle with depression. I can honestly say that I think the depression started when I was 10. That is, at least in my recollection, the first time I wished that I was dead. I've struggled with it off and on now for 28 years. Sometimes I get a break for a a few months, but it has been more on than off. A couple years ago, I got about an 18 month break in the depression. It all flew out the window when a friend of mine died this spring. I completely crumbled.

I'm probably an unusual depressed person. I'm fairly functional. I manage to hold a job and all of that but fall apart all around the edges. After struggling with it for so long, I know the symptoms and what to do. I keep busy, see the doctor and therapist regularly, take the meds, watch my thoughts, work hard at connecting with people even when I don't feel like it, . . . .

I know there was a precipitating factor, but having the depression hit so hard the last few months has been really difficult. I struggled with what the point was in keeping going because statistically every time I have a depressive episode I am more likely to have another. Why not give up?

Because there are points when I feel better.

Because there are people who care.

Because God wants me to keep going.

Because of things like faith and hope and love.

I am doing better. The last 2 weeks have been a major turn around. (That is good news!) I saw my doctor yesterday. She was totally thrilled. But then in the midst of it she said, "While you are doing well, we need to strategize the best way to handle the next one." I understand what she is saying, though I would love it if God made it so the depression never came back.

As I contemplated the discussion yesterday and today, I've felt fear creep in. Fear is a thief. It steals joy and peace and takes my eyes off of God. I came across this quote from Max Lucado in GOD CAME NEAR today and it spoke to me:

Such moments are necessary because they remind us that everything is okay. The king is still on the throne and life is still worth living. Eternal instants remind us that love is still the greatest posessession and the future is nothing to fear.

Do you know what he is talking about? Have you ever had an "eternal instant"? It's those moments when life just feels so right. Maybe it is when your child hugs you or you see a sun set. I know I've had them over the years. One of the most recent was when I had a friend's children spend the night with me. I was putting them to bed and Elena asked, "Do you have a Bible?" They wanted to hear a Bible story. I explained that I had a Bible but I didn't have one for children. They made sure that I knew that their parents read to them out of the "regular" Bible. So, I read to them about David and Goliath from my regular NIV. I was so touched to see their tender hearts towards scripture. There have been eternal instants: baking with a friend, sitting on a porch, cuddling with my cat. Eternal instants are ones that push back the darkness and fear. What was your most recent "eternal instant?"

As Max Lucado writes, the King is still on the throne. Life is worth living. In spite of what the world and our circumstances might say, the future is nothing to fear.

Because it seemed fitting in starting off the New Year, I've reprinted this from my xanga blog dated Sept. 1, 2007 -- www.xanga.com/BabblingBrooke135