Diary of a Grown-Up Church Girl

She had an issue of blood

1/15/2019

Just a day or so ago I heard a reference made to the woman with the issue of blood. You know her.

She’s mentioned in the Gospels as having suffered for 12 years with a blood condition, most likely something akin to a hemorrhage. She’d exhausted all of her resources going to doctor after doctor, desperate for some relief, but no one could help her. Then she heard that Jesus was coming to her town. She had to know that multitudes of people would be trying to see Him, and she knew that because of her condition she was deemed unclean and probably unworthy of speaking to the Master. But this woman had a plan. She thought that if she could just get close enough to touch the hem of his garment she could be healed.

So, as you probably know, she pulled herself together to go see Jesus. I imagine her doing all she could to look her best, she knew that she was going to be in the presence of royalty. Once she got in the area where Jesus was, she struggled through the crowd to touch His hem. Most in the crowd were likely bigger and stronger than she was but, again, she was a woman with a plan.

And her mission was accomplished. She was able to touch the hem of His garment and right away her body was made whole.

The Bible states that the touch was so powerful that it caused Jesus to ask His disciples, “Who touched me?” It was only then that the woman made herself known to Jesus and He told her that her faith had made her whole.

As I heard this story recently, three questions came to my mind. I’ll share them with you here:

What’s MY Issue?

I grew up going to Sunday School and church, so I’ve heard this story all of my life. But just recently the word “issue” stood out to me. Because we all have our issues, don’t we?

While this woman’s issue was physical and dealt specifically with a blood problem, other issues might be diabetes, or heart disease, or some other physical malady. And, not all issues are physical. Some are mental, spiritual, or emotional.
I suffer with an issue of impatience. As much as I try (which isn’t very much), I cannot help but get annoyed when I think someone is asking an unnecessary question or taking way too long to get something I need done. Like this woman, I need help. But the good news is that the same God who helped this woman thousands of years ago can help me, too. He can help you, as well.

Who’s In MY Crowd?
This woman had to deal with a crowd to get to her desired healing, and we don’t see anything recorded that suggests that there was anyone in the crowd who tried to help her. Rather, we’re led to believe that the size of the crowd hindered her and made it difficult for her to reach Jesus.
Are there people in your crowd who are making it hard for you to reach your goals? Check your crowd and push out of the way anyone who hinders your ability to get rid of your issue and embrace your destiny.

How Powerful Is MY “Touch”?
We know that it wasn’t really the touch of the garment that made this woman whole, but it was faith that got the job done. Could your faith do the same thing? Is it strong enough to allow you to trust God to tackle your issues?

The Bible stories we’ve heard all of our lives often take on new meanings as we get older and experience more of what life has to offer. What messages do you find in this familiar story that you can apply to your life?

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HELP!

7/6/2018

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Earlier this week there was a backup on the highway I take to work. That’s not unusual, but this time I could see an ambulance up ahead, suggesting that there had been an accident.

Then another ambulance came racing through the traffic, heading toward the ambulance that was already at the scene of the incident.

Naturally, I thought that both vehicles were there to help passengers in a car that had been involved in an accident. But, when I got closer, I could see that there were no other vehicles at the scene — there were just two ambulances there. HUH? I thought that was very odd.

Then I wondered if the first ambulance was the vehicle in trouble. Maybe this time it was the ambulance that was in need of help. And it made me think of something…

Sometimes the people we think are the strongest, the ones who are always rescuing someone else, sometimes that person is the one in trouble and needs help. Sometimes that “strong one” is desperate for a shoulder to lean on or a kind, listening ear.

Let’s not forget our “strong” friends. And if you’re that strong one, please know when it is your time to call for help.

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Is it me... or them?

7/2/2018

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That moment when you realize that you’re a lot more thoughtful than most people you know, and you wonder if there’s something wrong with you for loving them so much.

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I'm ready for tomorrow

6/27/2018

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Today has been a very interesting today, but I'm ready for tomorrow.

Had my marriage lasted, I would have been married for 20 years today. It’s sad when I think about all of the happiness that was in my heart 20 years ago. All of the excitement. All of the anticipation I had for my happily ever after. I’m disappointed that things didn’t work out the way I expected.

Today I found out that one of my favorite colleagues is retiring. She’s had a rough couple of weeks and decided that time was passing her by much too quickly. So she decided to stop working and smell the roses while she’s healthy and able to do so. I envy her.

Today I learned that a friend is sick. She’s a woman of faith and she’s strong, but she’s also human. I feel badly for her and I vow to join her in her fight, however I can.

Today my commute was worse than my usual horrible commute. There was no accident, just too many cars in an area that continues to build houses. This suggests to me that things are only going to get worse.

Today my male friend got on my nerves due to a silly misunderstanding. Maybe by this time I’d just had enough, cause what happened really shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. Life as a single girl really isn’t so bad, I'm not sure my nerves can take the hassle of testosterone.

Today is another day that my beloved cat child, Sasha Malia, is not eating. I have no idea why. She begs for food and when I feed her, she refuses it. The last time she went through this it cost me several hundreds of dollars for a vet to tell me that nothing was physically wrong with her. Maybe her eating disorder has come from hanging around me? It really is possible, I've been known to eat popcorn, ice cream, or trail mix for dinner. Don’t judge, I live alone and am the only one who has to eat it! 😊

Yeah, today has been a very interesting day and it’s not over yet. I feel like I want to run into my room, jump under the covers, and try this thing again tomorrow.

I can’t take too much more of today. I'm grateful for it, but I'm ready for tomorrow.

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June 23rd, 2018

6/23/2018

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We just never know, do we?

6/23/2018

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Yesterday, during my lunch hour, I took a quick trip to the local grocery store. I had just a few items to buy, plus I wanted to pick up something for lunch. This was to be a brief trip because I had to get back to my office for a meeting.

While walking through the area where flowers are sold, an elderly woman was standing right in the middle of the aisle. She didn't move when she saw me, she just continued to stand there, in my way, holding me up. And, between you and me, she was getting on my nerves.

In my mind I was wondering "Why won't this woman move? Is this an instance of Trump-induced entitlement, and she just doesn't think she has to get out of my way? Does she think that this is her world and I'm just lucky to be a part of it?" I am usually very tolerant of seniors, but not this time. This time, I was getting a little heated. But then I thought to myself...

What if she's buying flowers for the family of a close friend who just died?

What if this is her first time buying flowers since her husband passed away?

What if she's momentarily confused and isn't sure what she should do next?

I really had no idea why that woman was just standing there and the stories I'd made up in my mind could have been as far from the truth as the east is from the west.

Then I was quickly reminded of a time about six years ago when I was in the blender section of my local Target store. I wasn't there to buy just any blender and this wasn't a purchase I really wanted to make. I was there because a loved one was fighting cancer and wanted to try a holistic approach. We'd found recipe for a concoction he could drink and this recipe called for a variety of ingredients that needed to be blended together. We needed a super-duper blender, and that's what I was there to buy.

I remember seeing the other women in the aisle, imagining them looking for a blender to make smoothies for their families or to try a new recipe they were making for their Sunday dinner. And, while I was happy for them, I was sad for myself. And I thought about the fact that they had no idea that why I was there in that same aisle with them.

Just like I had no idea why the woman was in the flower section on yesterday. We just never know, do we?

So it made me think that I really ought to treat everyone as if they're having a bad day. By that I mean that I should go the extra yard, give the extra smile, extend a little extra patience. Sometimes it won't be warranted, but what about the time that it is? For example...

When I go shopping with my sisterfriend, Karen, I love the way she interacts with the salespeople. She is always bubbly and friendly and makes them feel as though she's so happy to know them. If any salesperson working with Karen was having a bad day, I know that my friend has made them feel a little better. I've never asked her why she does this, but I admire it and I try to imitate it as much as possible. Her kindness is contagious!

So, note to self, and maybe to you, too: You just never know what a person is going through. Some of the most hurting people look fine on the outside, but on the inside they are torn apart. Be patient. Be kind. That gesture can make a world of difference.

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You and your slipcover

3/19/2018

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Sasha and me

2/6/2018

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If you know me, you know Sasha Malia. Sasha is my cat child.

She's a constant, nonjudgmental companion and I love her. But she's sick. I think.

I mean, she's acting like her normal self, but she's not eating anything. It's as if she's protesting something, yet I have no idea what could be upsetting her.

She has no rules and she has no job. What could she be upset about? I supply her food, her shelter, her everything! Sasha has got it made in the shade!

Wow, that causes me to pause because God could be saying the same thing about me.

I've got a lot on my mind these days and I'm not sure how things are going to turn out, so I'm worried. But I can hear God saying "What is Gail upset about? I supply her food, her shelter, her everything! She's got it made in the shade!"

Yep, I can hear it and I accept it. And, as the song goes, "I don't believe he brought me this far to leave me." So I will do my best to do better.

I've got to stop worrying and Sasha has got to start eating. Come back soon, I'll let you know how we both are doing.

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If there's one thing that makes me mad...

1/30/2018

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Well, I heard it again. And it made me mad. Again. And I really don’t get mad too often. Yes, I get upset and discouraged, but I don’t often get mad. I avoid such opportunities as much as I possibly can.

But the other morning, while riding in my car listening to my favorite gospel radio station, I got mad.

You see, once again, a married woman was going on and on about how wonderful marriage is, how it is ordained by God, and how if you end your marriage it is only because you’re not working hard enough. I won’t mention this married woman’s name, but she used to sing with her sister. That’s all I will say.

This makes me mad on so many levels.

For starters, what would a married woman know about ending a marriage? Unless she’s on a second marriage, no married woman can tell me anything about what divorce looks like or feels like. They simply do not know.

And, do you live in my house? Unless you do, you have no way of knowing why my marriage ended or if I didn’t work hard enough. Speaking of which...

Who dictates what is “enough”? And who said I was supposed to “work hard” in my own home? Sure, I was supposed to compromise and listen, do some things and not do other things, but was I supposed to work hard day after day, trying to fix something that I alone did not break? I don’t think so.

What’s more, do you think I wanted my marriage to fail? Did I one day wake up and determine that it would be better for me to be single? Obviously, marriage was an interest of mine, otherwise I never would have said "I do." So the end of my marriage wasn’t something I chose, it just happened.

Special note to church folk: Please don’t judge me or any other divorced person you meet. When you feel that urge to say something about how we should have done this or shouldn’t have done that, please put your hand over your own mouth and just hush. (“Hush” is the polite, grown up church girl way of asking you to shut up.) And don’t tell me what God intended for me. How do you know? Mind your business.

You telling me about my marriage and divorce would be like me telling a basketball player how to dunk or a printer how to print or a cat how to meow. I have no idea cause I’m not a basketball player or a printer or a cat.

So, if you’ve never been through a divorce, if you’ve never lived in my house, if you’ve never walked in my shoes, please keep your opinion to yourself.

I’m done. And I’m not that mad anymore.

Deuces!

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That Old Ugly Door

10/17/2017

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I don’t know if I’ve ever written about this, but one of the biggest obstacles standing between me and a happy marriage was the house I lived in.

I hated it.

It was old, it was ugly, and it was falling apart. And any attempt I made to try to make it nicer, homier, or to reflect some small portion of my preferences and personality was often rejected. It was painful.

To make matters worse, my ex-husband was a contractor, so he made his living making other people’s houses look good! Meanwhile, our house – I can’t even call it a “home” – our house was always in some state of disrepair and disarray. That was a hard pill for me to swallow. I didn't grow up in an ugly house, why was I now a working adult living in an ugly, beat up house. It made no sense.

One of the many things I disliked about the place was the front door. I really don’t think it was a door, I think it was a board that my husband put up and called a door. Honestly.

So I remember often telling him that we should get a new door, even offering to pay for it myself, but he never wanted it replaced. Please don’t ask me why, I have no clue.

OK, so fast forward to yesterday. I was in Lowes, returning some curtains, and there was a contractor there picking up a door for one of his clients. Immediately I felt some kinda way, as the young people say...

I thought about how wonderful it was that this person was getting a new door! Whoever the person was, they immediately became my friend, I loved them for having made this purchasing decision. There was a part of me that wanted to wait around to see the door they'd selected, but I had things to do... plus that would have been weird.  :-)

Then my mind went back to myself and I felt sad. You see, I remembered the shame and confusion I felt on the many days I walked through the ugly door at that house I lived in as a married woman. And I remembered the embarrassment I felt when anyone would come through it. They had to know that it was a board and that it lead to a house that needed a lot of work. Most of our visitors never mentioned it, and I will always be grateful to them for that. But I knew.

The truth is that, in many ways, that door was the entryway to a life that, quite frankly, was not what I wanted or felt that I deserved.  There were some good times there, that’s for certain, but that house and that door were a constant reminder that all was not well in my world.

Now that I think about it, doors can be rather symbolic, can't they? They represent an opening and a closing. A beginning and an end.

So once I stopped feeling sad, I rejoiced in knowing that God had provided me with a new door... a new opening, a new beginning.

Now I love my door, and I love the home it leads me to, and I love the life that’s cultivated inside that home. Life is good.

I just wish I hadn’t spent so much time in that old house with that old ugly door.

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Hello and Welcome to my blog!

I'm a grown up "church girl" who is bouncing back from some hard blows, including an ugly divorce, financial hardship, and dreams deferred. Now, more than ever before, I am embracing the idea of transformation and beautiful new beginnings.

Won't you take this journey with me?

Archives of writings expressing my thoughts and observations

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