The Club

The longer I am a woman, the more I realize that we are all very much the same.

No matter what our ethnicity, our age, our social status, marital status or our hair color, we are a part of a unique club of chromosome sharing humans. Though we are each on individual journeys, we all share many of the same desires, the same disappointments, and the same dreams. All of us, in the club.

We all want to be liked and we all need to feel needed.

We all juggle life’s responsibilities and long to make a difference.

We all wish we could change things about our life and wonder if we are to blame.

We all struggle to get real…struggle to be honest…struggle to walk in truth.

We all want more than we have, have more than we deserve, and wish we knew in the deepest places of our heart that it was enough.

And somewhere, dwelling inside all of us, is that little girl who longs to be noticed and screams inside to be heard and wants to feel significant.

We aren’t even that good at hiding it.

When our girlfriends choose to go to lunch without us, we go back to being that little girl who didn’t get chosen for kickball or the cheerleading squad. Hurt.

When we watch our child walking away from truth instead of walking in it, we think about the compromises we made along the way and how they changed our life in ways we didn’t want them to. Regret.

When someone we love tells us they don’t love us anymore, we silently wonder if anyone ever really did or anyone ever really will. Rejection.

Even though we know better. We still think these things.

In our defense, we didn’t gain entrance into this club without some emotional coaching along the way. The truth is, these feelings have been with us for quite awhile.

We learned early on that it is important to be strong and hold it together. That’s what our momma did and that’s just what members of the club do.

We realized right from the start that what we looked like would matter more to people than it should and we might as well do something about that. The club does discriminate against it’s own, and we know it all too well.

We sensed that guilt would be apart of our daily life and so would fear. Those are two things we knew club members would have in common, if nothing else. So we practiced them, continually.

And although the club’s membership is full of women of all different shapes and sizes, there are many common emotional threads that bind us. We may wear the look of an athletic woman. Or the soccer mom who just burnt the dinner. Or the executive in red stilettos with Wall Street on her mind. Or the retired woman who paces herself for the first time in her life. Or the girl next door who likes to curl up with a good book and a hot cup of coffee, especially when it’s raining. Or the artsy eclectic who likes to express herself in ways most people don’t understand and really just likes to be left alone.

But inside, we are all a part of the club. We all know that shopping is a great way to medicate ourselves when we feel really bad about something, and food never talks back or loves us any less. We all know that we will never accomplish enough to make ourselves feel accomplished, but we still have to try. We all know that chick flicks don’t tell us about real life, but we secretly wish they did.

But there are some other things we DON’T fully know that we need to.

We need to know in the deepest places of our heart that we are completely accepted and loved completely by God. That we aren’t perfect, but we don’t have to be because being flawed is part of what makes forgiveness possible. That who we are has nothing to do with the labels people attach to us, even when those labels feel good. That we don’t have to hold it all together and in fact, we are not supposed to.

That being a part of the club doesn’t automatically mean that we will always do things the way we’ve done them or think the way we have thought or function the way we have functioned.

But rather, it is, being a part of a group of chromosome sharing humans who are meant to walk this life together with fingers entwined and hearts knitted who aren’t afraid to admit they sometimes feel like that little girl who didn’t get chosen for kickball.

Because, well...we club members just understand.

P.S. For those of you who are going to be participating in Lelia’s online study of Behind Those Eyes starting tomorrow, I am so excited to share this journey with you! I will be blogging every Tuesday about each of the chapters, and I hope you will come back and visit me to read more about my thoughts on each one and maybe get some insight into what God put on my heart to write about. And...if you want to participate, there is still time for you! Even if you aren’t, I hope you will visit anyway, as I think you will find something here that you can relate to during these 10 weeks. I will likely be blogging more than once a week during that time, so check back often!

Baptists Gone Wild!

I interrupt my regularly scheduled deep and (hopefully!)meaningful post to bring you something that will not help you on your journey. That is, unless you happen to find yourself in a dark alley with this motley crew. Word to the wise. If misfits looking like these approach you on the street, run. Fast. In the other direction.

Then again, they might be true innocents just on their way home from one of our class socials at church. In which case, they are likely nursing a karaoke hangover and forgot to take off their costumes.



Of course, if you wanna get all spiritual about it, you could call what we did Friday night “karaoke evangelism.” My very wise and witty friend, Caroline(www.crosseyedcafe.com) coined the phrase, and frankly, I like it. In her words, “I think we would have more converts to Christianity if people just realized that God is all for some good, sober silliness.” I couldn’t have said it better, myself, and couldn’t agree more! :) We did have some fun Friday night at our 2nd Annual Whittle Class American Idol Karaoke Night!

But lest you begin putting Caroline up on a spiritual pedestal for her very insightful comment, please refer to her next musing in an email that circulated the morning after…“Take note Wikipedia: two manmade wonders of the world can be seen from space—the Great Wall of China and Garrett’s white belly.” Now, does that woman have a way with words, or what?

And just because I know you’re a curious group of readers…I present to you the infamous belly of which Caroline was referring to...

Garrett, Pre-Britney and white belly…

Garrett, Post-Britney and white belly…




















That Garrett is one very tall and secure man, even in his Britney wig and silk knee highs. (Umm...does Britney wear camo?) Though, after “Hit Me Baby, One More Time” and “Genie in a Bottle,” I began seeing the trend in preference of musical selections. Clearly, Garrett is taken with pop princesses of the 90’s. (Sara, start worrying.)


Speaking of synthetics, I do have to say, I think the men (not mentioning any names, Van) liked the wigs a wee bit too much. Case and point…my friends, “L"-axyl and “T"-ash, aka, Axyl and Slash. Wait – is that Axyl on a cell phone? In the middle of "Sweet Child O'Mine?" Who’s he calling? Rehab? Or his tattoo artist, to get his money back?


And if these two try to convince you that they can dance, please tell them that your momma didn’t raise a fool and you aren’t buying what they’re selling. Unless, of course, it comes with a heating pad and some Advil and Icy Hot. Which will be, by the way, what they will be using to ease the strains they got somewhere between Walking Like an Egyptian, Getting Knocked Out and the Cotton-Eyed Joe. (watch this Utube clip for some insight --
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMH0bHeiRNg)

Of course, with sweet performances like this one from our Greasers, the night did have its tamer moments.
















Michael Jackson graced us with his presence, glove and all...
















As did some Jackson wannabes... (Thriller, anyone?)
















And yes, even my wise and witty friend, Caroline, made an appearance. At the Love Shack, of course. Though I personally feel her hair could have been bigger.
















So another Whittle class function has gone off without a "hitch" or a "glitch." Neither of which was something I had to perform.

Thankfully. :)

The One

Someone posted this picture of me on Facebook yesterday.

My first thought in seeing it was, “Oh my! Who is that girl and where was her mother when she walked out the door of her house?” Yes, it’s a scary sight, friends. But give grace, ok? It was the early 90’s!

And that was BEFORE hair extensions. :)

But after adjusting to the sight of my former self (I don’t ever remember being that skinny, by the way!), I thought about something I asked my Bible Study girlfriends to do not long ago that turned out to be a powerful exercise.

We were going through my first book (co-authored with my mother, Kathie Reimer), The 7 Hardest Things God Asks a Woman to Do, and we were at chapter five: God Asks a Woman to Hold On/Let Go. It’s a chapter my mother wrote, and for me, it is one of the most powerful chapters in the entire book, as it talks about some very specific things we need to hold on to in our walk and those things we need to let go of in order to live out in freedom! In a study setting, it always brings out lots of great discussion and provokes many personal feelings and thoughts.

This night was no exception. Women were open and sharing from their heart about how God spoke to them in what they had read. We were just about to pray and close when I asked them to do something that brought on a whole new wave of emotions in all of us.

Prior to arriving, I had asked the women to bring a picture with them from the year they graduated from high school. I asked them to bring it out, hold it in their hands, and look at it -- to look at that young woman in the photo and in the quietness of her heart, silently tell her some things. I asked them to tell her, based on what the woman sitting there today knew and the experiences she’d gone through since that picture was taken, what that young woman in the picture would need to let go of in those 10 or 15 or 20 years between. And then I asked her to tell that young woman in the picture what she would need to hold onto in those years in between, as well.

The exercise made quite an impact. It brought many tears to many eyes. It brought back strong feelings and deep emotions. Including some of my own.

As a tear rolled down my cheek, I looked at that young smiling woman in the picture with her royal blue cap and gown on, and gave her some advice she probably never would have wanted to hear and hoped to never need to know. That young woman, so full of life, probably never knew how much she would need to let go of or hold onto. After all, she was much too busy dreaming big dreams and planning big things. She never knew what the next nearly 20 years would mean for her. She wasn’t supposed to know.

She didn’t know how important it would be for her to let go of…
…those bad decisions she made on graduation night, just 24 hours later.
…those ideals of perfection she was sure she could achieve if she tried hard enough.
…those feelings of inadequacy that made her look for love in all the wrong places.
…those misconceptions in her head that caused her to confuse the truth with a lie.
…those college days, laced with temporary fun, loaded with tons of regret.
…those past mistakes…so they wouldn’t rule or ruin her life or relationships and eat away at her soul.

She also didn’t know about some of the things she would need to hold onto in those nearly 20 years...like...
…her strong upbringing in the church.
...her childlike faith.
…a healthy sense of self and healthy fear of God.
…the importance of respect and character, for herself and toward others.
…the priority of marriage, even when it wasn't the fantasty life she expected it to be.
…the gifts from God, in whatever form they came, and not take them for granted.
…an awareness of what this life -- her life -- is really all about and for what purpose she was made.

And yesterday, when I saw that picture on Facebook, of the same girl I talked to in my graduation picture, I thought about this holding on and letting go thing all over, again. I looked at her with love, and I looked at her with care.

And I gave her grace. She couldn’t have known those things at the time. Life had not afforded her that wisdom or experience at that point. But she now knows. And how her life looks the next 10-15-20 years largely depends on what she does with what she now knows.

...what she now holds onto and what she now lets go of.

And whether she has big hair, short hair, post-baby hips or really young girl thin ones, she is still that same girl in the picture. She is still born to do the same things she was born to do in a Houston hospital in the early 70’s. She is still created with the same DNA make-up she had at birth. Her physical make-up may have changed from 1990 to 2008, but that is only a matter of preference and the natural aging process. It has nothing to do with who she really is.

And so…though I may cringe over the styles in this picture of me from 1990, I also have to see it with the eyes of my Creator and know that the girl in that picture was and is now on a journey that will have many ups and downs. Many twists and turns. Many high moments and many really, really low ones.

But in every up and down…twist and turn…high and low moment…one thing remains the same.

My beautiful Jesus.

The One to hold onto.

And it gives me a new thing to tell that young woman in the picture.

P.S. After posting this today, I realized that this is my 100th post. I never realized it when I wrote it, and I always thought about trying to post something clever for my 100th to mark that milestone. Funny...I think this turned out to be the best way I never thought of. :)

An Urgent Pace

God is teaching me lately that I better stop walking so slow. But it has nothing to do with my physical fitness.

I have been given several reality checks about this issue lately, and one happened just last night. My husband and I were in our bed, flipping through channels to find something worth watching, when I saw a commercial, advertising a new show on the fall TV line-up. Had it not been for my body pillow lying next to me, I might have fallen off my bed at the sight of the words across the screen…

The Big Bang Theory.

Just when I think the media has peaked in it’s shock value, they trump themselves and shock me, again. Never thought I’d see the day that a disproved evolutionary textbook theory would make its way to primetime TV.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s happened before.

They shocked me with a show appearing last season called Swingtown. Never thought I’d see the day that acceptable TV viewing would include scenarios in which marriage is openly devalued and hedonistic spouse swapping is glorified.

I also never thought I’d see the day that a show called How to Look Good Naked would ever have enough viewers to stay afloat to see season 2, either.

And then there’s that show I used to love to watch when I was in college, 90210. Considered a bit edgy for it’s day, it was nothing compared to its TV counterpart, Melrose Place. And the new 90210? I didn’t watch it and won’t be. The bits and pieces I have heard about it make my stomach turn.

And that’s not all.

With my three children in the car, most often we listen to Christian radio. But every now and then we will tune in to an XM station they like, Radio Disney. A few days ago on our car ride home from school, I decided to stay off my cell phone and take inventory of what the song on the radio they were listening to was actually saying. I don’t know what bothered me more. Hearing the words to the song or hearing my children singing along to some of them…

Don't you see that bigger is better and better is bigger
A little bit is never enough no no no
Don't you want it all! You want it, you know that you want it
The fame and the fortune and more You want it all!
You want it, you know that you want it
You gotta have your star on the door You want the world
Nothing less all the glam and the press only giving you the best reviews
I want it all! I want it I want it want it
My name in lights in Carnegie hall
I want it all!

Hearing this song, three very specific phrases kept going through my mind…

Lust of the flesh.

Lust of the eyes.

Pride of life.

(I John 2:16… “For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world.”)

All of a sudden, Radio Disney did not seem quite so harmless anymore.

Even as I write this post this morning, I have to consider the thought that it may not make me popular with some. And I have to acknowledge that it could come across legalistic, though it isn’t and I’m not. But I can’t be deeply troubled about it and afraid to speak out about it at the same time.

Because my thoughts are consumed with holiness. It’s thick on my brain.

Friends, I am burdened enough this morning to pick up the pace and start running. I think I’ve been fast walking long enough, and it clearly doesn’t cut it. Secular society is bringing their “A” game to the table. It’s in my best interest to sprint. By the way, it’s in your best interest, too.

I hope you know…it’s not about TV.

It’s not about Radio Disney.

It’s not a call to get rid of all the media influences in your life.

Unless that is what you feel you have to do to run towards holiness.

Because between what I have seen and heard in the past week, I have a fresh sense of urgency to run after what is good…run after God. Live with a clean heart. Tell the truth and walk in it.

I’d love to write about something much more light and fun this morning. I’d love to tie up this post with a neat little bow and end it with a shiny spin.

But I just can’t.

Because I am living in a time where fast walking isn’t fast enough, friends. It’s just not cutting it.

Gotta start running.

“The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are safe.” Proverbs 18:10 NIV

Dreams that Didn't Come True (oh, and that book title, too)

Fortunately, this time my dreams didn’t come true.

On Wednesday night, nearly 70 women came to our first Behind Those Eyes Bible study at my home church, Hickory Grove North. Since the night before I had dreamed a crazy dream about having to wear my pink Boston baseball hat to speak in (my hair hadn’t been washed and was too greasy to take out of the hat) and as soon as I came into the room and stepped up to speak, everyone got up and left, I was a little nervous about what the night might hold. Not only that, but that same night, I dreamed I had a tick on my head (yes, those little blood suckers themselves) and someone was wading through that greasy hair, trying to remove it for me, but it had been there awhile and they couldn’t quite get it out. Oh, good gracious. What was all that about? I’m blaming it on the Sudafed-induced coma I was in to try to help me and my stuffy nose sleep better. Whoops! Missed the memo on those particular side effects.

And please, psychologist friends, don’t try to psychoanalyze these dreams. I’m a bit frightened as to what they might mean. :)

The great new is that regardless of the “root” issue (lame pun intended), they didn’t come true, and God showed up, instead. We had an awesome time together, and I’ve been getting emails from women telling me how God is already doing a work in their hearts! There’s no telling what He may reveal to all of us when we ask Him to show us truth.

And by the way, how fun it was to meet a few of you bloggy friends there! What a neat surprise and added blessing to the night. Loved it.

And since it seems you have run out of guesses as to what the original title of Behind Those Eyes was, let me go ahead and tell you its original name. It was originally titled, Female Impersonators, and you will see a hint of that theme and understand where that came from when you read the first chapter of the book. (The new title came from a story in the first chapter, as well. Look for its reference as you begin to read.) Thanks for all your great guesses! It seems that though the original title intrigued the publishers enough to take a second look at it, when it came down to it, they weren’t sold on it enough to keep the title. A bit too edgy, I believe.

Hey – maybe the next book can be called Wacky Dream Sequences of the Highly Stressed Woman. Anyone care to contribute a chapter to that? :)

Do share.

Lip Service

God has been holding my nose to the grindstone lately.

It’s about saying things with my lips that I don’t really mean in my heart.

I never really noticed that I did this until one day recently over lunch with a friend. I was talking to her about how I was super comfortable with my current weight and what size I was and that I never really wanted to be a size four, anyway. Leaving our lunch date, I got in my car and started to pull out of the parking lot when I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. It was then that it hit me. I was a big ‘ole liar. Here I had just been having a great conversation with my girlfriend that I loved and wouldn’t think of lying to, and I had not told her the truth! It wasn’t that I was trying to deceive her. I told her what I wanted to believe was true and what I wished were true, but was not the total and complete truth. Because the truth is that I do not always love or embrace my body.

Like…well…today, for instance. But I won't go into that right now, as it's slightly irrelevant to this blog post. :)

But my issues with lip service are not just relegated to issues with my current size. It’s with matters much important than the numbers on the scale.

I also sometimes say things with my lips that I don’t mean in my heart, when it comes to spiritual matters. Like when I tell someone I will pray for them and I don’t. Ashamedly, that was something I used to do from time to time -- I'd say I would, with the best of intentions, but then I wouldn’t. Because of that grindstone thing, God won’t let me do it anymore. If I say it, He reminds me until I do it. The truth is, I need it to be that way. Otherwise, I could easily fall into just giving lip service, again.

But it grieves me the most when I say things to my beautiful Jesus with my lips that I don’t really mean in my heart.

Like when I tell Him I love Him…but don’t take time to communicate with Him. Where’s the proof of my love in denying Him conversation?

Or when I tell Him I need Him…but try to do things my way first, just in case I’m right. How would He know I need Him when my actions say I don’t?

Or when I tell Him I’ll serve Him…but run away from things that seem too scary or out of my control. Can He feel my desire to serve Him by me bailing all the time?

Or when I tell Him I will put nothing before Him…but then usher the little "g" gods in my life to the front of the line and move Him to the back. What priority does that show when things other than Him have my full attention and He doesn’t?

As much as those things grieve me, I know they grieve Him even more. How much He must tire of me flapping my lips all the time without any substance to my words. After all, He is a God who is really not into lip service. He is not a promiser who doesn’t deliver. When He says He will love me, He does. When He says He will help me, He will. When He says He will be enough, He is. He makes good on His Word and every Word of His is true. He just doesn’t do the lip service thing. It’s not in His character.

But sometimes, I do. Sometimes, it is in mine.

And every time I do, I'm reminded of the verse in Deuteronomy (23:23) that reminds me of where He stands on the whole lip service issue...

“Whatever your lips utter you must be sure to do, because you made your vow freely to the LORD your God with your own mouth.” (NIV)

This verse reminds me that Jesus is only about talk when it is backed up with action. He wants me to do what I say what I will do and mean what I say I mean. He wants me to evaluate myself and take my own inventory so I can begin to catch myself when I begin to slip into lip service patterns of yesterday. It’s called discernment. Godly wisdom. And it’s another element to being completely and totally for real.

It’s just a harder one for me to do, sometimes. But I have to…

…when I’m committing to pray for someone.

…or professing my love for God through a worship song or in private conversations between the two of us.

…or talking to a girlfriend over lunch about my current size.

It’s about telling the truth – to God. To others. And yes, even to myself.

It’s being mindful to never say things with my lips that I don’t mean in my heart.

Which means, by the way, that I should probably be doing a lot less talking these days.

Happy Labor Day!

Hey friends!

With today being one of those rare days with my whole family home, I have decided not to spend my morning writing a blog. Please check back with me later on in the week for my weekly posting!

I am thrilled that many of you are excited to join Lelia's online study of Behind Those Eyes, starting on September 23! (www.leliachealey.blogspot.com) I loved your comments, and I have to say that Mari's comment left me laughing out loud! :) I am so excited to get to know all of you better through this study. Anyone is welcome to join, so please let Lelia know if you are interested in participating. And...thanks to those of you who gave it a shot and tried to guess the original title of the book. Great guesses, but the right one is still out there, up for grabs! I'd love to give away a free book, so please read my last post and see what you can come up with! :)

And...I'd love your prayers this week, as I am going to be teaching the Bible Study of Behind Those Eyes to the amazing women of our church for six weeks, starting on Wednesday night. If you are in the area and would like to join us, let me know! :)

Oh, and Happy Labor Day to you!