Popular: Boys, Booze, and Jesus

by Tindell Baldwin

  It took me a long time to come to grips with the burdens I hold as a woman. I’m in no way diminishing a man’s struggle, because I have no way to compare the two. But for a long time I resented that men seemed to have an easier time of everything. They don’t have periods or PMS, they don’t get pregnant, they aren’t scrutinized for physical perfection the way we are, and their reputations aren’t nearly as tarnished as ours when they give in to temptation. But then I realized this resentment prevented me from using my gift of wisdom. This was the lie Satan wanted me to believe. If he could have me believe that God had dealt me a harder hand than the other half of the population, then he could distract me from so many things. He could induce anger toward God and my husband, and he could do what he really sets out to do, which is distract me from God’s calling. For a while, I really bought it. I weighed the problems of both genders and thought, Heck, a period alone takes the cake, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it doesn’t really matter. I finally talked to my dad and told him what I was thinking. His response was, “Say you do have it harder. That doesn’t change what will make you happy.” And it doesn’t.

  The important thing to hear is that we do not serve a sexist God. Perhaps He gave females a greater burden because He knew we could handle it. Or perhaps it’s not greater at all, and I’m blinded by my PMS. Or maybe it’s all Eve’s fault (told you I got the hang of being a girl!). In any case, God is not sexist, and He is also not male. Yes, Jesus was a man, but God created both man and woman in His own image. Therefore, He cannot simply be a man; He is gender neutral.

  I think Satan would love it if women discarded the Bible just because we wanted to prove a point, because we wanted to show the world we don’t need some book written by men who don’t understand us. The Bible is full of women—important women. Jesus made it to earth through Mary; perhaps the greatest picture of love was given to us by Mary (the sister of Martha) when she anointed Jesus’ feet with her nicest perfume; and so the list goes on. The Bible is filled with influential women who made a great cause for Christ. A lot of women are more relational, just like God. We were given an innate ability to take care of others, to show the world God’s beauty, to have deep relationships, to be wise in tough situations, and more. God has entrusted us with great things, which means we will have great burdens. The classic line in Spider-Man is “with great power comes great responsibility.” We have great power; therefore, we have great responsibilities.

  Since we’re often more in tune with our emotions than men, we may feel more deeply than most men do. I find it interesting that women seek treatment for depression more often than men. Is it because we feel too much? Hurt too much for others? Take on so much in one day? Or is it simply that we have a greater sense that this world is falling apart? We carry so much on our shoulders and often have a hard time giving that burden to God. I know this because it’s one of my greatest faults. I’m not satisfied unless I have my hand in at least four things. I don’t like a whole lot of idle time, so I fill my days until I’m so stressed I get sick and depressed. I turn away from God’s help because I feel I should change the world all on my own, even though He never asked me to do so. I want to prove that being a woman won’t hold me back, even if I don’t know who I’m trying to prove something to. God created me exactly as I am to fulfill something for His Kingdom. Let me repeat that: God created me exactly as I am. Even though I might not want to accept the burdens that come with being a woman, I’m who God made me to be, and He did it with His glory in mind. You were designed to bring glory to God. Don’t forget that fact as you strive to prove something to this world.

  The fall after I worked so relentlessly at the Christian youth camp, I came home to find that I wasn’t the same person as when I left. The world didn’t look the same as it had a few months earlier, and some days it was hard to even get out of bed. Every night I lay in bed wide awake and prayed that sleep would come. I didn’t want to go out with my friends or even be in a room with people. I started to feel like no one understood the hectic summer I’d had or why it had taken such a toll on my body or why my botched review mattered so much to me. Shortly after I got back, the relationship I was in at the time went downhill. I realized something was terribly wrong. I talked to my mom about the overwhelming sadness I was feeling daily and how I couldn’t seem to shake it. My mom knew what was going on, because she’d experienced the same feelings. She urged me to go to the doctor, so after a few months I finally did. I was quickly diagnosed with depression. It was a huge blow for me. I’d always prided myself on being so strong, and I saw my depression as a sign of weakness instead of what it really was—an illness.

  Most of us don’t like feeling vulnerable, but sometimes as women we do. Normally, we’re perfectly safe, but at times we experience fear, knowing the statistics and worrying that we’ll be attacked because of our gender. Just like there are times we have to look above and say how great our God is, there are many times when we can’t deny that Satan is alive and well. Every time we hear of another rape, suicide, shooting, death, or kidnapping, we know that the king of lies has deceived again. It’s on days like these that we need to know how great our God is. It’s times like these that God will remain good in our eyes only when we remember who to blame for evil. We often look around our perverted world and want to shake our fists at God. We hear of another hurting nation and ask, “God, where are You?” He sits where He has always sat, in heaven weeping for the people He created to live with. Separated by a barrier of sin, He has to watch as the course of time takes its toll on our world. Satan will be strong until God’s plan for earth is complete. Until then, Satan wants our world to suffer as he has to suffer. So he convinces people to act as he would see fit. Satan is the ultimate example of misery loving company.

  Who is Satan? What is he? He is the father of all lies. He is a walking metaphor for all aspects of evil. He’s the voice in your head telling you that you’ll never be enough. He’s the whispering fears that rise up every time you forget the truth. He is the great deceiver, and he preys on the downtrodden. Satan is the greatest evil this world will ever know. He loves destruction and death, he loves pain and suffering, and he laughs in the face of the brokenhearted. Satan loves when his lies make you doubt the one true God. He loves twisting truth. He is jealous and angry, and his only desire is your life. He will say anything to you to convince you that God is against you. He seizes on your greatest fears about yourself and tells you they’re all true. He tempts all of us who walk this earth to leave our beloved Savior for a life of earthly pleasure. He knows this will never satisfy, so he wants to trap you in the chains of sin so tightly that you can’t see your way out. He wants to place you in a pit so deep that the top seems miles away, and all the while he will tell you that this is what you want. His lies are convincing and self-gratifying. His plan of attack is the simple fact that your soul craves what this world has to offer. The lie is that it will make you happy. He tells you that you need to be more, have more, and want more.

  Satan is not simply a fallen angel. He is the angel who wanted to be worshiped above God. He isn’t a puppy with sharp claws. He is a roaring lion waiting to devour. His attack isn’t with sticks and stones but with a bullet straight to your heart. He isn’t the man in a red suit who sits on your shoulder and tells you to eat the cake. He is the evil in the night with plenty who do his bidding. He isn’t a ghost story or a myth. He is the worst nightmare you have ever had and the darkest moment of your life. He is powerful, and he is the king of all things evil. He wants to see you destroyed.

  Just the other day, I heard another shocking story—one of my parents’ friends took his own life and that of his wife. My heart broke a little bit. I don’t know this person or the family, but I know that Satan has wreaked havoc in their lives. Part of me wanted to blame God, but then I remembered God only desires good for our lives. He doesn’t cause bad. He tearfully allows it so that we may have our free will. If news seems to grow worse, it�
�s because each day Satan gets a little closer to his death. Never doubt that God is watching, though. He hurts like we hurt, and His tears are laced with the sins of this world. Like a father weeps for a lost child, our God weeps for a lost world. He made a way for us to be with Him, but only if we choose it. He will never force a heart to turn to Him, because He desires our sincerity, and let me tell you, there is nothing more sincere than having a heart renewed by God. So when you’re tempted, like me, to look around and ask God where He is, remember He is with you in your sorrow and also in your triumphs. He is with the dying and the brokenhearted, and just because we refuse Him access doesn’t mean He won’t stand with us and weep. God triumphs in good, but He also triumphs over evil, in His perfect time.

  CHAPTER 15

  SOMETHING TO BELIEVE IN

  MY OLDEST BROTHER always had a way of making me believe that God had great plans for me. Even when I was in the midst of trouble or knee deep in sin, he would look me in the eyes and tell me, “Tindell, God is going to do great things in your life.” I tried to brush it off like I did everything else, but for some reason his words stuck with me. He believed in me when he shouldn’t have, and he didn’t give up on me even though all the odds seemed stacked against his faith in me. He knew this was just a phase of my life and not how my life would end. He knew one day God would turn my trials into glory for His name. There’s no mistaking God’s work. He takes pain, heartache, and rejection and turns them into great things for His Kingdom. Loneliness will turn into longing for Him, which will turn into a deeper relationship with Him and with others.

  Alcohol abuse and addiction turn into redemption, which turns into compassion for others, which turns into the spreading of hope. Ugly circumstances turn into great testimonies. There doesn’t seem to be anything greater than a testimony of hope, a life transformed by a great God.

  We’re coming up on Easter as I write this, a time of remembering what Jesus has done for us, and at church on Sunday people came out with big poster boards that read, “I remember . . .” with a portion of their lives described on the front. When they flipped the boards over, the boards showed what God had done for them. One board read, “I remember being homeless, addicted to drugs,” and on the back it said, “Found God, and now I work for a homeless shelter.” One said, “I remember being in prison, feeling hopeless and alone,” and on the other side it said, “Found God and a wife, and now I work for a prison ministry.” Each poster board had the same scenario: pain and heartache transformed to fullness and joy. All the while, “Amazing Grace” played in the background: “My chains are gone, I’ve been set free, my God, my Savior has ransomed me.” See, God would just be another god if it weren’t for stories like these, stories of redemption that could only come from a powerful Savior. It can only happen because He traded everything for a chance to win your heart. We each have an “I remember” time, a pain so deep it’s worth writing down. But if you’ve found God, there’s always a flip side. He’s always whispering in your ear, “I made you to do great things for My Kingdom.”

  My card would read like this: “I remember addictions, heartache, and loneliness.” But the back would say, “Redeemed, married, fulfilled, and happily serving high school kids just like me.” Nothing says how great our God is more than scenarios such as these. We were all made for greater things, a chance to show the world the glory God deserves. Stories like these tell the world we’ve been through the dark but made it to the light. They tell the world that there is hope. Most of all, stories like these tell us we are not alone.

  This Is Where the Whole Thing Went Wrong. . . .

  Girls can be a little evil, especially high school girls. I hate to put it that way, but no other word describes how some girls can be. For those of you who are not evil, congrats. I was evil. Girls were scared of me, not because I was rough and tough, but because I was evil. If I didn’t like someone, I would say it to her face. I didn’t understand why honesty was so frowned upon. I had this theory that I was doing girls a favor by not lying to them. The way I saw it was you either openly hate someone or hate them and act like you love them. Occasionally I did play the other card, depending on what I could get from someone, but most of the time I was openly spiteful. There was one girl in our “group” who kissed my ex, and I blared the song “Homewrecker” in my car and pulled up next to her with another friend in the car singing it. Evil. I often made girls cry, and because I was “not emotional,” I was never really invested in the drama.

  As women we’re given unique gifts that men don’t have. These gifts often get misused; we use them for evil instead of good. Our vulnerability and need to be desired can push us to seek security in men, which can leave us heartbroken and needy. Our ability to read others can make us great liars and even better manipulators. Our ability to see wisdom in situations can also be used to hurt others with our knowledge. The strength God gave us to bear our burdens can quickly turn into bitterness and anger.

  As I said before, I was always angry, and it was never my fault. I was able to manipulate situations so they best served me, and my rough exterior let me abuse myself while ignoring the consequences. Even though I didn’t consider myself needy or vulnerable, I was always looking for someone to love and always getting my heart broken. My best friend and I expressed our anger by throwing sticks at trees when life was really hard. Weird, I know, but we needed an outlet for our emotions.

  God gave us emotions for a reason, yet they can betray us. My emotions lied when they told me I needed my first love physically; they told me I wouldn’t be happy until we were together. I listened to those emotions for a long time. I believed my heart could never move on from him, but the heart is deceitful above all else (see Jeremiah 17:9). Because I had so mishandled my heart, I couldn’t tell the difference between what was best for me and what would be a quick fix. Getting back together with him would have been a quick fix. I would have stopped hurting temporarily, but it would never have lasted. I would have had to go through the same pain over and over again until I forced my heart to move on.

  Today I’m an emotional junkie; after finding God, I loved all these great feelings I discovered. I found a love with Ben that wasn’t painful, and I would get high from our late-night talks and dreams about our future. I’m intoxicated by community, love, passion, and joy. I love movies that make me feel alive and songs that I can blare and sing along to. I love displays of love, and I think weddings are a good time to have a cry. I get high off the joy of life, which also means that the pain of life can throw me into a dark hole. I act out of whatever I feel. The feelings are real, though, and they mean something real, but they are meant to be filled by lasting things, not temporary fixes.

  When I was sixteen, I hated feelings because they hurt. What I really hated was that my feelings revealed the truth about the lifestyle I protected so fiercely. My anger was a way to take control of the sadness I felt every day. If I took on a tough persona, I could ignore the fact that my heart was breaking a little bit every minute. If I could be stronger than my circumstances, then my life wasn’t falling apart. If I could pretend I didn’t need to be vulnerable, then I could stuff this deep desire to be known by someone, really known.

  Recently I was substitute teaching in a middle school when I heard some girls talking about fighting another girl. I asked them if this was a common thing, and since I’m not their teacher, they spilled it all. They told story after story of girls getting in fistfights after school as a way to solve things. I tried to remind myself not to stare at them in disbelief. When did we get to the point where we have to solve arguments like guys? No offense to the boys, but one of the great things about being a woman is our ability to talk through things. My belief is that we have so denied our true nature, so forgotten the great things that make us unique, that we will do anything to be different. We will do anything to prove that we’re strong enough to survive.

  Since when has surviving meant physically fighting over a boy you won’t even remembe
r in five years? Most of these fourteen-year-old girls had been in fights, some of them forced by self-defense, but some were proud. They wanted the world to know they weren’t scared of anything. Vulnerability gone bad, strength being abused, girls are fighting to deny who they really are. The idea is that if we can be as strong as men, then men won’t hurt us. If we can prove we’re worth the same, then they won’t shatter our hearts and we won’t spend another Friday night with a chick flick and a tub of Butterfinger ice cream.

  String of Broken Hearts

  ELIZABETH BENNET: BELIEVE ME. MEN ARE EITHER EATEN UP WITH ARROGANCE OR STUPIDITY. IF THEY ARE AMIABLE, THEY ARE SO EASILY LED THEY HAVE NO MINDS OF THEIR OWN WHATSOEVER.

  MRS. GARDINER, LAUGHING: TAKE CARE, MY LOVE. THAT SAVORS STRONGLY OF BITTERNESS.

  —PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

  When you’re bitter, it saturates every part of you. You can’t isolate it to one part of your life; it leaks onto everything else. After my heart was broken, I set out to break everyone else’s. I dated and cheated and carried a string of broken hearts as my prize. I was so bitter about the cards I had dealt myself that I sought revenge on the male race. I found boys to adore me, I made them feel they had me, and then I broke their hearts before they could break mine. It was twisted logic, but it was all I had. My first love wouldn’t pay, so I made every other man pay. Anytime I felt my heart start to slide into love, I called it quits or cheated so that they would have to break up with me. I was too broken to have anything left to give. I was too hurt to help anyone, so I took free handouts of love from any man who would offer, leaving little and gaining nothing.