For Our Daughters

Why we need to tell our stories

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Last Friday night I hosted a dinner and film screening of this short but powerful film. A gathering of ladies came for community, breaking bread together, and discussion about the problems with patriarchy in the church.

There were all different denominational backgrounds present in the group. Protestants, Catholics, Non-denoms, Ex-vangelicals, and even a Jewish friend of mine came. It was eye-opening to see all the reactions to the film. If you haven’t watched it, I highly recommend it.

Some brave women told their stories and for me, it brought up a plethora of emotions.

My own religious background is complicated, but I’m grateful for all the experiences I had (well, most of the experiences), because the journey has brought me to a place today that I’m so peaceful in. While I never experienced sexual abuse in the church like the women in this film did, I definitely experienced spiritual abuse. Many times and in many ways. The fact that I can recognize that now is something I’m very grateful for.

I think telling our stories is the most powerful way to make a point. You can’t argue with someone’s own experience. So in the spirit of telling our stories, I’m going to share an excerpt from my book, God, My Girlfriends and Me: Nurturing the Three Most Important Relationships in a Woman’s Life. If you haven’t read my book, I’d be grateful if you would give it a read, or a listen (it’s available on audio book too if you want to hear me read it) and share it with others!

So here’s a bit of my story:

I was raised as an only child in a Christian home with loving parents. My Father was a college professor and my Mom was a “homemaker.” In other words, she didn’t work outside the home. I remember her dabbling in selling Tupperware, Avon, and then Amway, but she never really got any of those businesses off the ground. I think she just did it to try and keep herself busy and possibly bring in a little extra money. Dad loved his teaching job, but back then a small University professor didn’t make a ton of money. They did manage their money well, so although we never had anything “extra,” we never lacked for any necessities either. For instance, I may have had to settle for off-brand clothes, order the cheapest thing on the menu in restaurants, and never buy anything that wasn’t on sale or marked down, but I never had to worry about having clothes, or food in my belly. We were probably the pretty typical middle-class American family back then.

Mom, Dad and I were members of First Baptist Church while I was growing up. Both my parents taught Sunday School and Dad sometimes served as a deacon. I remember being there pretty much anytime the doors were open. Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night services, along with choir practice, handbells and even GA’s. For those of you reading this that aren’t Baptists, GA’s stands for “Girls In Action,” which is a missions discipleship program for girls in grades 1– 6. Yep, they start training us in missions early in the Southern Baptist world!

As I grew older, I got very involved in the FBC youth group. I loved hanging out at the “Youth House” with all my church friends.