I was excited to be at Book Expo America.  I, Linda Settles, the once-shy girl from Arkansas, all grown up (some may say "grown old), a writer!  A published writer!  I stood in my publishers booth, Edict House Publishing Group, booth # 4508, feeling strong.  I also felt humbled.  Who would have guessed that the girl who wrote poetry for Latchstrings, a small North Little Rock newspaper, the same girl who went home every day after school to tend her younger siblings, the same young woman who forfeited a college education to see her siblings through school, had by the Grace of God and stubborn persistence climbed out of the dark hole of despair to stand on the mountain top of her dreams?  It felt wonderful!

I was exhibiting three books.  My debut novel is an allegory about a journey on the Sea of Life. My protagonist suffers many things, but somehow I missed taking him through a tempest.  Maybe that story is yet to be told.  He goes through enough. Most of his trouble comes from his own misconceived ideas and character flaws. Of course they do!  He spent his first seventeen years living in the City of Bondage. Oh, yeah, I know about that.  I have been there, too.

Brae, our young protagonist, runs away from the City of Bondage and sets sail on the Sea of Life--on that vast emerald jewel!  It has been there all along, surrounding him, calling to him, inviting him to forsake his bonds and venture forth to seek a better land.  I share his angst.  I empathize with his fear, and I admire his courage.  Go, young Brae!  Go, live your dream!  Pursue your quest and don't give up.  Don't ever give up!

The second book, Diary of a Young Resister, is the story of a young girl who grows up in the midst of persecution.  Life is not easy for Salina, but perseverance and commitment prevail and she, too, moves on with her life by facing her fears, disappointments, and losses.

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It is the third book that created the drama on the exhibit floor at BEA.  Redeeming Our Treasures, Finding Joy in the Shadows of an Abusive Past is the book that triggered an unscheduled event that I will never forget.

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I am standing in the Edict House booth, smiling at every one who glances my way, when a woman in her fifties, (about my age) stops by my table to admire the beautiful artwork on the cover of Quest for the Other Kingdom.  After talking with her a few moments, I draw her attention to Redeeming Our Treasures.  She cooperates, taking a couple of steps toward the book.

I say, "This book is for those of us who have experienced abuse and lived to tell about it."  I should have sensed the change of expression on the sweet woman’s face, the shutters closing, the emotions shutting down.  I should have noticed, but I did not.  I continue, "I address many of the questions we ask when we are caught in the trauma of abuse." 

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 I do not know why I did not sense it sooner.  I should have seen it coming, but I was doing my job--presenting my book.

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I open the book. The picture of a small country church, softly illuminated against a darker background, illustrates the chapter heading:  Where was the Church? 

Apparently, the unnamed woman standing before me has asked this question, too.  I don’t think she has found any answers, at least not any answers that comfort her.  Her mantle of shame swaddles her, and she backs away, her eyes staring into mine, pools of pain, myriad images of sorrow and shame flooding through them.  I know.  I can feel it now.  She has my undivided attention.

I reach out.  "I know." I say, my own eyes flooding with unshed tears.  "How can I help?" She shakes her head, turns away.  She has my number.  She had picked up a card while looking at the Quest books. "Call me," I plead.  Head down, she melts into the crowd, turning first toward the wall of people at the right--and then the left, before making a beeline for the door. 

"Dear God," I pray. "Teach me to be your ambassador to those in chains, your hands extended to touch the heart of others whose unresolved pain is prone to catch them unaware at the BEA, or on Mother's Day or Christmas, or whenever they are unexpectedly reminded of their loss and their pain.  In addition, go, my omnipresent Lord, into the quiet places of my unnamed friend's heart and show her the way out of the shadows of an abusive past.

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Linda settles

www.RedeemingOurTreasures.com