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.