Pink, Cookies and Other Differences

Wow!!! The "Bennett blog" has, to use his own words, "wacked the hornets nest."
"Why?" was one question that immediately came to mind, but...thanks, Ashley, you thought of it first. His answer? He reaches out to particular people. So...I'm guessing he expected the response, but, I gotta tell ya...just "reading" all the tension sends me back to the safety of my own 'blog'

Hmmm...I don't know if I've been called to reach out to a certain group of people. I have thought about it before...not exactly the best time to do a lot of meditating on it.... in front of about 100 women. At a retreat in New Jersey. I'd been invited to lead the music after sharing a little about myself on the first night...unfortunately, the "Pink-Cookie lady" went first. I call her that because her ministry began when she got the idea of having a cookie social one night a week at her house. She invited all the women in her neighborhood and it just grew. (mine began when we begged and groveled with the same folks who used to come to our house to party) Oh...and the pink part was because her favorite color, plus everything she had, was pink.
I could feel my heart sink as the "pink lady" began sharing about her life. She said she'd been the 'apple of her daddy's eye' She told the story of how she just loved riding in her dad's pink cadillac. He was so proud of her. In fact she and her sisters all knew they were so special to their daddy, he would comb their hair. The beloved little girls to leave would leave their shoes out at night...and he'd clean them.

It got worse. Flipping around a huge poster, she shared that the knight (that's what I said...a life-size pic of a guy in a suit of armor) was the young man that would "ask for her hand." Taking her to a real castle, he got on his knees....but...guess what? He didn't warn her, so she wasn't dressed like the princess she always dreamed of and...This" she shared, "would be one of the first of many disappointments ahead."

"Was she kidding?" I thought. I met the father of my third child in a bar, after too many drinks. Besides a son from my first marriage, I was the single mother of a newborn at home. I just didn't seem to do anything the 'right' way. This woman was the epitome of perfection. Was this some kind of joke? By the time it was my turn, I felt totally inadequate.

"You know what?" I asked the women when it was my turn. "If I was God...and you oughtta be real glad I'm not...but, if I was. I'd probably send me to people I could relate to... maybe...to 'rehabs, recovery centers, physciatric hospitals, PRISON...but, no...where does God send me? To the most terrifying place imaginable...a room full of "church ladies."
They laughed. Why'd they laugh? Because half of them knew what I meant. They were scared of 'church ladies' too...and didn't consider themselves to be one of them. Anyway, after I shared my own daddy story...or...lack of daddy story...or too many "daddies" story, I sat down and wondered how in the world God would work this out. We seemed to come from different planets; me and the "Pink Cookie Lady" speaker.

I realized alot about myself that weekend. First of all, how much I still had to work out. I could probably take nails scraping slowly across a blackboard than someone...a grown woman... talking about how precious she was to her father. I was there to lead others in openly worshipping God, when to be honest, I could feel the critical hairs standing on end and the proverbial arms beginning to fold. When the Pink Princess brought out a...a...."tierra", sheer panic set in. We were to pass it around the room after wearing the dainty little crown, representing our own 'princesshood.' "God, you've got to be kidding!" I prayed and sweated it out, but thank goodness I was passed over.

Our differences were so extreme that it was difficult to see the point of our leading this thing together. She began to tell us all about her dissent into darkness when her "knight" wasn't as willing to clean her shoes or do some of the other things her daddy did to make her feel so special.

Give me a break. Good grief, how would she deal with having a father who'd leave before she was even born? How about the violence, chaos and other wierd things a parade of men would add to her childhood? I wondered how she'd have dealt with unfaithfulness, rejection and abuse, not to mention years of a crushing, chronic illness....and.... Wait a minute. What was I doing? Letting my blasted pride run rampant, that's what! Yep...I learned more about what was still lurking in my own heart than I really cared to know. Suddenly the Pink Cookie lady described how resentment and anger deepened with each new disappointment. Unable to overcome festering bitterness, her life became gripped by a paralyzing depression.

That weekend, I was there at that retreat to lead others in worship to a God, who I loved and served because of His unconditional love. One of the greatest attributes I am able to share with others is the fact that God does not look on us as others do, but looks deep into our hearts. In other words, He doesn't compare us to one another...doesn't measure us by the standards we constantly hold each other to, yet, you know what? I was sitting there, doing just that! The Creator of the universe loved the Pink Cookie Lady wholly and unconditionally, yet, I viewed her through a hard heart that somehow felt her pain wasn't as valid as mine...or the things that brought this woman's world crashing down somehow shouldn't, concluding that her trials were piddly next to my own.

Yep, I learned alot that weekend. I learned that suffering is suffering. Hurt is hurt. The disappointment that would cripple the Pink Cookie lady, was no less painful to her than the abuse and rejection that brought me to a place where life didn't seem worth living. God had met us both in those places.

I finished the last music set and was thinking how despite the initial worrying, I was getting more comfortable....then suddenly..."Oh Geez, the speaker was wearing a "birthday cake" hat on her head. She had little gifts for everyone who celebrated a birthday that weekend. Though I have to admit, it was funny, I can't tell you how relieved I was it wasn't mine.

The further I get away from that weekend, the easier it is to see our differences were the very thing that many women were able to relate to...and more important the very thing that God used to touch their lives.

"I don't know if you remember me," one girl told me when I recently visited for another event in NJ."I've been clean ever since I heard your story...you know, what God did in your life"

"Wow, thanks for sharing that." I answered.

"Hey, and remember that Pink Lady? I loved her!!!"

"Yeah," I could honestly say, "Me too!"