I Hope You Dance -- Hope Chronicles 50

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!

I hope you always keep your sense of wonder
May you get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger

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!)

May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love never leave you empty handed

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 hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens

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.

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
When you get the chance to sit it out or dance
I hope dance. I hope you dance. I hope you dance.

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.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance.

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.

Living might mean taking chances but they’re worth taking
Loving might be a mistake but it’s worth taking
Don’t let some hell bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out reconsider

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!

Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance

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?

When you get the chance to sit it out or dance

I hope dance. I hope you dance. I hope you dance.

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

Locking Eyes With Hope -- Hope Chronicles 36

I dread it when I hear that a stretch of road I normally traverse is going to be "under construction." In theory, these projects are meant to help in the long run. In the short run, they are headaches in the making. And if your part of the world is anything like my part of the world, "construction" on even a tiny segment takes forever.


Roadblocks was what came to mind as I was reading for the on line study at Lelia's of Lysa Terkeurst's book, What Happens When Women Say Yes To God. (If you want to join the discussion or read other's thoughts, just click the button at right.)

I even had a bit of a stumbling block/roadblock on Monday. I had a doctor's appointment and was using my lunch break to accomplish it. (To my credit, I had let them know I might be a few minutes late coming back.) Sigh, maybe that was a prediction. But I'm usually in and out. It's a routine kind of thing. The fall of 2006 my iron was extremely low and for whatever reason, my body wasn't absorbing it from food or pills. I had to get it intravenously like eight times! At which point, my iron count was probably high enough to set off a metal detector! Now I go in every 4 months or so to see how much ground has been lost (usually 60-100 points). It was so high when they gave me those treatments, that while it is still dropping it is now in the "normal" range.

But my usual in and out turned into a sit and wait. I don't do sit and wait well.... Part of it for me today was, "What were they thinking at work?" I had already told them it might be a possibility, yet I felt myself get more and more anxious about it. And God brought to mind Lysa's words where she spoke of the gatekeepers Acceptance and Rejection. Rejection, criticism was what I feared if I lingered to long even for a necessary appointment. Acceptance is what I craved. As Lysa so aptly wrote, both gatekeepers require a lot (the fear of not being able to continue to perform or the lure of being constantly let off the hook because I don't measure up).

Lysa challenges us to choose worship over worry. Worry is a great roadblock to me. I can find worry in everything. When things are hard, the worry is ten times greater. Lysa writes:

When we worship in these hard places, we are reminded that none of this is about me -- it's all about God.

I want to have a heart that automatically looks to worship instead of worry. But a lot of my worry comes from where my eyes -- physically (counting the dollars and balancing the checkbook), emotionally (what are people thinking or saying about me), and spiritually (my own inability to be "good enough," worthy enough for God) are looking. I look at storm rather than the storm calmer.

Lysa uses a beautiful illustration of her youngest daughter Brooke. Brooke is Lysa's child who most needs touch. Once, she was in a dance recital and the part she anticipated dancing got switched. In tears, she searched out her mother. Lysa knew she couldn't be on stage with her daughter but she said, "Lock your eyes on mine and Mommy will touch you with my smile. Don't look at anyone or anything else . . . . It doesn't matter if you mess up. What matters is that you keep your eyes on me the whole time. We'll do this together."

I need to lock eyes with the heavenly Father. It has been a difficult few days and that seems hard to do. I'd like to hide and pull the covers over my head. But I am choosing to lock eyes with Jesus and choose hope by doing things like taking spring pictures over the weekend or calling a friend when I need it or reading all the antics and wise thoughts of my bloggy friends. In these ways I am locking eyes with hope.

And not only am I trying to dance, God is dancing and singing over me. The smile never leaves His face when my eyes are locked with His.

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." -- Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)

Won't You Be My Neighbor? -- Hope Chronicles 31

He called us friend and put on house slippers and a cozy sweater. He talked to us (but never down to us) and took us on make believe adventures. I'm dating myself, but Mr. Rogers was an integral part of my early life. And he always asked, "Won't you be my neighbor?"

We weren't close to a lot of people growing up, but I did at least know who my neighbors were on the left and right and catercorner and across the street and several houses up . . . . I knew who the parents were and which kids to avoid and who might want to play a game of tag.

It appears that it is less and less like that today. I live in a row of town houses. I know the people on either side and a couple down the alley but not many more than that. Still, I was totally caught off guard by two calls today at the office.

I work in the county recorder's office with deeds and mortgages and all that type of stuff. A gentleman called up and wanted to know why the site needed a password and user id. (It was locked down last summer due to social security numbers being on older mortgages and miscellaneous documents.) I explained how he could get a user id and password. As part of the process I asked him what he might be using the site for. "I want to know who my neighbors are," is the answer I got. Hmm. Apparently, each year, for some reason, he takes a survey of the names of the people who live around him.

Not 10 minutes later, I got a call from a woman who said that the house next to her had been foreclosed on and she wanted to know which bank now owned it. I told her that to do a search I would need the parcel id number or the name of her former neighbors. She had no clue as to the name of her neighbors.

Hmm for second time in a day. Hmm. Seems like a plate of cookies and a handshake would do more than looking on line.

But, perhaps, I'm not the best one to talk. While I do know a few people, I don't know them well. Even at church I can be reserved.

Every Sunday we have KidStuf -- the children's church. I've been helping with that. There is singing and dancing and laughing and skits. It's great fun. I'm not particularly coordinated. So, sometimes I skip the dancing. But lately I've been taking pictures and when you are up front taking pictures you are more visible and it's more conspicuous if you stand there like a bump on a log.

But a couple of times, we have done a partner dance. And though I would like to duck out, I've noticed a child without a partner. I can overcome my fear of being a klutz to make a child smile, so I've found myself ducking less and dancing more.

I need to have the same perspective with "big kids." My thought with the children is always, "What can I do to make them happy or more comfortable?" Now what if I translated that to the adults around me? I think it would pass along hope in little ways.

And wouldn't Jesus say that everyone is our neighbor? So, friend, "Won't you be my neighbor? I'd like to get to know you!"