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"What exactly is a Grown-Up Church Girl"?

4/19/2017

Recently I was asked about the name of my blog, Grown-Up Church Girl. “What does it really mean,” the person asked, “Aren’t we all 'grown up' at this point?” Well, let me explain…

The reference to “grown up” has absolutely nothing to do with my chronological age and everything to do with my relationship with God. I speak about this often, here’s the short story…

I grew up in church. I attended Sunday School, I sang in the choir, I had friends at church, I enjoyed going there. I ate really good, and very fattening, food there. I was very involved, I'm telling you, church was fun for me and it was a great experience. I loved God and I knew that God loved me because everything was going well for me. I was the epitome of a "church girl." But then...

Life got tough... and I had no choice but to GROW UP in my understanding of who God is.

I had to grow up when...

I got laid off from my job, when I struggled to establish my own business, and when
money was tight.

I was home enough to see that my husband wasn't doing all that I thought he should
do.

I filed for divorce.

Lines were drawn, when friends were lost, when close relationships died.

I fired one divorce lawyer, when another one quit, when I thought the madness would
never end.

I had to grow up when...

I was forced to lean on a God who seemed so distant and trust in a God who seemed to be nowhere in sight.

You see, I had to grow up and realize that He loves me even though He sometimes has an odd and difficult way of showing it. And I had to learn that even though all of my requests wouldn't be answered when or how I’d like, He only wants what’s best for me.

And that's when my relationship with Him became closer, better, and more mature.

That's when I grew up and became the Grown-Up Church Girl I am today. Now I'm writing about it, speaking about it, and coaching about it.

But I'm not finished. I'm still "growing" and I firmly believe that the best is yet to come!

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What do the color orange and holy week have in common?

4/12/2017

19 Comments

I’m getting my home painted. While this is a fun project, it’s also difficult because… well… because… because I’ve made it so. I’m thinking and overthinking, honestly, I don’t want to see another paint sample in my life. But this is important to me.

You see, I love color! And I’m adding a lot of it to a lot of different rooms in my home and I want to be sure that my selections are going to be pleasing to me and to my guests.

I have one room that I’ve always deemed to be my “fun and creative” room. I do a lot of writing in that room and I’ve always wanted it to have an upbeat, energetic, happy, somewhat funky, anything goes vibe. I probably had the hardest time selecting the color for this room, but when I finally made my decision I chose orange.

Yep. Orange.

It was a pretty shade of orange, kinda deep. I envisioned it looking almost like copper in color.

When I got home last night, this was the first room I ran to see. I couldn’t wait to view what my beloved room looked like now. It was dark outside, so I turned the light on and…

I hated it. It was downright hideous to me. I absolutely hated it.

Then I thought I’d make it work by changing some of the other things in the room. And I went to bed.

But at 5:30am, I woke up and the only thing on my mind was that orange room. I just didn’t think I could live it. Since the painters were coming back today, I figured I’d find another color and ask them to paint over the orange. Doing so was going to take me over my budget, but it was necessary. It had to be done. I had to do what I had to do.

So for about 90 minutes this morning, I pondered over one paint color and another, pausing only to go back into the room to see if the walls were still orange. They were still orange.

I picked a shade of blue and was finally thinking that life could go on. As I began to get myself ready for the work, I peeked into the orange room again and, lo and behold, a miracle had happened!

I liked the color! All of a sudden I saw the color I’d envisioned, or at least something close to it. I could see myself loving that room again. All was well in my world again, I could go on.

What had happened?

What had happened was… the sun rose. Yes, with the natural sun beaming into the room, it seemed as though everything changed. And it had changed for the better.

Now, you know me by now, I look for “messages” in almost everything and with this being Holy Week, this is almost too easy. But I gotta take us there...

Because we all know that when the Son of God rose, He, too, changed things for the better, didn’t He?

He gave us a different perspective, a new lease, and perfect and cherished opportunity to be what God always envisioned us to be.

I thank God for my orange room, for the sun, and for His Son.

Easter Blessings to you all!

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Maybe I'm a con man, too?

4/3/2017

17 Comments

This past Saturday I went to another women's retreat. I didn't speak at this one, I just went for the fellowship, to learn something new, and to lend my support.

After the event, I ran a few errands, just doing those things you generally do on a Saturday afternoon. At one point I was sitting in my car, checking emails, while parked in a shopping center parking lot.  I noticed a slightly older woman in a wheelchair, rolling through the lot, but I didn't pay much attention to her, until...

She appeared at my window. I rolled down my window and that's when she told me that she needed some money to buy a few groceries. She said that someone else had given her a few dollars, but she needed more. She asked me to please not judge her, that she wasn't a bad person, but that she was a good woman who had fallen on hard times.

Maybe because I'd just attended the women's conference, maybe because she was in a wheelchair, maybe because I had a few extra dollars, maybe because she asked me not to judge her, I gave the woman $5. She thanked me, rolled away, and mentioned that she just needed to get three more dollars in order to do get what she needed.

I saw her approach a gentleman who was just coming out of the store, but I didn't watch long enough to see if he gave her money or not.

Then, in less than 3 minutes, she rolled back over to me.  I rolled down my car window and asked if she'd gotten the three dollars she needed. She told me that she had not. She looked pitiful to me. So I gave her another $5.

This woman rolled off saying all of the appropriate things, "thanks!", "God bless you", "you're so kind." all the rest. But then the last thing she said really caused me to pause...

She said, "Now I just need two more dollars."

I was stunned. Shocked. Speechless!

Because the woman had just told me that she needed three more dollars and I'd given her five more. When I called upon my limited mathematical ability, I determined that she should now have a surplus of $2 and not NEED another $2. She had more than she asked for.

I suddenly felt used and just plain stupid. I wondered if she really needed that wheelchair, or was it all a part of her act? I felt like I'd been conned.

Now, fast forward to Sunday afternoon...

It was a beautiful day. I enjoyed my church service, had a wonderful visit with my mother, life was grand. As I was driving home, I was thinking about how happy I was, and then I said to myself (and kinda hoped God would hear me), life would REALLY be grand if I had a man in my life. Not necessarily a husband, but a man to hang out with and go places with, you know? If only I had a man.

And then my mind went to Wheelchair Woman in the parking lot from the day before. Here's why...

If you know anything about my story, you know that I've had some wonderful advantages but, like everyone else, life has dealt me a couple of hard blows, too. Thankfully, the good has greatly outweighed the bad and the bad is mostly behind me.

But, rather than thank God for all of this on that beautiful Sunday afternoon, I had the audacity to tell Him that this is not quite enough. I want more.

Who does this remind us of? Yes, Wheelchair Woman.

She asked me for a specific amount of money and got more than she even asked for. Yet, she still went begging for more, leaving the giver (aka me) to feel unappreciated.

But she's not much different from me. God has given me more than I asked for, yet I ask for more and more... and more.

In other words, I'm saying...

"Thanks, God, I have great family and friends, but..."

"I appreciate the job I enjoy, but..."

"I know I said I wanted this house and then I'd be so happy, so you made it possible for me to get it, but now..."

"God, I have good health, but this isn't quite enough anymore... "

"I'm out of that difficult marriage, but..."

Doesn't that sound horrible! I'm ashamed of myself.

This isn't to say that I shouldn't ask God for the desires of my heart, I have that privilege. But I also need to be sure to THANK HIM for the things he's already given me, the things that He's already done for me. Otherwise, I'm playing the same game played by Wheelchair Woman.

I never want God to feel unappreciated or conned. He's done much too much for me.

In all things, and in every season, I must remember to give thanks.

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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?

"What exactly is a Grown-Up Church Girl"?

What do the color orange and holy week have in common?

Maybe I'm a con man, too?

Archives of writings expressing my thoughts and observations

Hello and Welcome to my blog!

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