Open the Door and See All the People

Posted on February 22, 2012 | 9 Comments

“Here is the church,” I laced my fingers together and hid them between closed palms. “Here is the steeple,” I shot my pointer fingers up and touched the tips together. “Open the door and see all the people,” I swung apart my thumbs and wiggled my entwined fingers. And this last was always my favorite part, the funny church members all wobbly and stuck together.

My fingers have grown since those days, but I still like to use them to remind myself of what makes up the Church. For all the division and frustration, for all the disillusionment and hurt, for all the damage that by rights should have razed the building long ago, still here is the Church. And still my favorite part is the people.

(continued)

So often we find it necessary to speak of the Church’s hard and hurtful parts. Today it’s my joy to take part in my friend Preston Yancey’s astounding, uplifting project, At the Lord’s Table: A Conversation, “a series of over 50 posts from varying authors about the beautiful, mangled Church.”

Please pull up a chair and join me.

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Is It Hot In Here Or Is It Just You?

Posted on February 20, 2012 | 58 Comments

Here’s the thing about opportunities– you sometimes have to be a little forward with them. Not grab-the-cute-guy’s-butt forward, but definitely is-it-hot-in-here-or-is-it-just-you forward. So that’s what I did a few weeks ago– saw an opportunity just sitting there, went up to it, and asked for it– and Killer Tribes founder/host Bryan Allain invited me to speak at my first conference. Which is 7/8 exciting and 1/3 terrifying. (Fear not– I won’t be speaking about math.)

So, on March 31 in Nashville, I’ll be the least-famous person with the fewest credentials speaking at the inaugural Killer Tribes Conference! I’ll run a little breakout session about embracing niche writing, and it’s entirely possible that the only people who will choose to attend it are the blogging friends I have mercilessly harangued/promised to go pole dancing with/mentioned it to in passing amid subtle suggestions to bring me candy (Reese’s Cups, not Eggs).*

But I’m thrilled because just showing up to speak at this first conference means I have a start. And when you’re a little forward with your opportunities, sometimes you can get pretty far. (Ahem.)

And before we go any farther (whew, is it hot in here, or is it just you?), I want to thank you. Part of why objectively-unfamous-me gets to speak is because I can share with the Killer Tribes attendees what I know about flying my freak flag and the killer tribe that’s drawn. I can speak about you.

A tribe isn’t just a group of people doing the same kind of thing as you, thinking the same kind of way as you. A tribe is a group of people rallying around you. So if you’ve been here long enough to read my Be Warned page and have repeatedly chosen to stay, then you, friends, are a part of this crazy little TOL tribe. And you’ve been a dang good wingman.

So you probably know me well enough by now to know that not many topics make me uncomfortable. But on a discomfort scale of 1 to 10, asking for money ranks for me at about a 139. It’s the worst.

But here’s the situation: My husband and I learned a long time ago that staying out of debt does wonders for staying out of divorce court (thank you, Dave Ramsey), and this gig came up without much time to build it into our budget. And although I’m being paid handsomely in experience and networking, the stupid airline hardheadedly refuses to acknowledge these as legal tender.

So, I’m taking all the cash that I’ve saved from my birthday and Christmas out of its envelope marked “Tamara’s Next Tattoo” above a sloppily-drawn smiley face, and instead of replacing my aggressively failing car CD player with an MP3 outlet, Bryan is making his belated birthday gift to me a contribution to this exciting adventure. We will cash savings bonds that our grandparents gave us when we were kids because although at age 8 you think you’ll buy a Sega game or a Rainbow Bright doll with that time-release pseudo-check, the truth is that someday you might just have to invest a little in yourself. (And if we still can’t scrape together enough between now and the end of March– well, we might just have to piss off Dave Ramsey.)

So, one way or another, I’ll be at Killer Tribes on March 31, and I will speak the heck out of that little breakout session. And if you’d like to help me get there, you can just click the button. (Ahem.)

In the spirit of not racking up debt, I’m happy to earn your help. If you have a question about writing/editing/blogging, recreational pole dancing, the superiority of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups over Eggs, or anything else that I may or may not be able to answer, please ask away in the comments and I’ll work for it!

Are you going to Killer Tribes? You can use the code “outloud” until Sunday, February 26 to get 10% off registration!

*Jessica Buttram, Knox McCoy, Sharideth Smith, Tyler Tarver, Shawn Smucker, Jennifer Luitwieler, Jeff Goins, Leigh Kramer, Alece Ronzino, Amanda Williams: You know which ones you are. Get your stilettos/confections ready as appropriate.

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Guest Post: “Tips to Staying Married from Someone Who Didn’t”

Posted on February 17, 2012 | 38 Comments

Today’s guest post comes from Cory Copeland of Mad to Love. Cory is regularly smart, thoughtful, and funny. And for a guy who’s not married, he gives pretty solid relationship advice, too. Enjoy! –Tamara

(What’s up with all the guest posts around here lately?)

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Let me start this post off with a bit of honesty: I have a divorce under my belt. I’m only 26. Winning? I think not.

I was married at the tender—yet foolish—age of 19. And though I felt I possessed all the romantic wisdom the world had to offer (who doesn’t at 19, right?!), my marriage didn’t last past the third year. Tears were shed, and lessons were learned. But what good are learned lessons if they aren’t shared?

Therefore, here and now, I present to you “Cory Copeland’s Tips to Staying Married” (but then again I’m divorced so take these with a very tiny grain of salt):

Do…Listen
There’s a reason they say communication is key to any successful relationship. So fellas, when the little lady tells you she feels like you aren’t meeting all her needs, listen to not only the words she’s saying, but the emotions behind them. The last thing you want is her getting her needs met by items found at the adult store and/or Rick, the douchey next door neighbor.

And, ladies, the reverse is true. When papa bear tells you he wants to watch football rather than go to your Aunt Patty’s 93rd birthday party, listen to him—or suffer the wrath of a psychotic toddler in a grown man’s body; because he WILL find a way to eat all the pigs in a blanket AND fall asleep with his hands down his pants just to spite you.

Don’t…take advantage
Men, when the wifey is letting you (yes, I said letting you) massage her feet after a long, hard day, don’t start busting out your “moves”, automatically assuming it’s going to lead to whoopee (that’s what people say instead of sex, right?). Just let her relax and enjoy being pampered. She’ll let you bust out your “moves” another time.

Women, there’s nothing more annoying than a “Honey Do” list. A guy doesn’t want to feel his handyman “prowess” is being taken advantage of or—even worse—like he’s being nagged at. Pick out the two or three most important jobs and assign those to him; then thank him when he’s done. He wants a day off just like you do.

Do…make an effort
Guys, it’s okay to break the mold and put a little work in to the relationship. Ask the wife how her day was… and then listen intently when she responds. Make spontaneous plans to take her out to her favorite restaurant, and maybe even grab some flowers just to prove how classy you really are.

Gals, your guy wants to be admired and adored. Grab his bicep and act impressed. A purred, “Have you been working out, big fella?” will go a loooooong way for a guy. You’ll make him feel like the king of the world—a king you can control and have do whatever you want.

Don’t…assume the worst
Fellas, it’s easy to assume things when you don’t have all the facts. Give your little lady the benefit of the doubt at all times. If that ends up biting you in the butt, THEN you can set her car on fire using your marriage license as kindling (that paper burns goooood—or so I’ve heard…).

Ladies, we men are animals. And we’re not even the smart kind! So before you assume he’s doing something behind your back (i.e. cheating, sneaking late night snacks, trying on your underwear, etc.), make sure of it before you fly off the handle and call him all those awful names you’ve been saving up since “I do”. The chances are he’s not clever enough to get away with cheating, he won’t hide his snacking habits, and though your panties feel nice on his skin (or so I’ve heard…………………), they’re just too small (probably).

Do…keep things spicy
Men, a woman likes to be pampered. It’s a given. So add a little adventurous spice to your union and rent a fancy hotel room once in a while. And always remember to put her needs before your own. I’ve heard they like that.

Ladies, who are we kidding? A guy is just happy to be “doing the dance.” Give him that one look (you know the one), and he’s a happy man.

These five steps will go a long way in helping your marriage stay vital and thriving. And if not, well that’s what you get for taking marriage advice from a guy who IS NO LONGER MARRIED!

What marriage tips do you have to share from your failures and/or successes?

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Cory Copeland writes about God, Life, and Love on his blog, Mad to Love.  You can follow him on Twitter at @Cory_Copeland. Cory’s debut novel, These Were the Nights, will be available everywhere this spring.

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When Words Become Flesh

Posted on February 15, 2012 | 2 Comments

I write monthly for A Deeper Story, where the group of us is blessed to tell stories of Christ and culture, given space both to wrestle hard and to weave soft. We tell the small stories so we might better know the Grand Story, and we sit in a virtual circle beside that space’s dear readers, shoulder to shoulder but for computer screens and miles, a community built on words and the Word.

But we remember that the Word became flesh.

And this Word-become-flesh brought light to our dark world, not in virtual community but in dwelling among us. And so if we are gifted to use our words in that space of Christ and culture, it cannot be because we were meant to leave them at only words.

Our words must become flesh.

And the One who was gracious to speak life into form knows this and wants this and works this into being. And, having glimpsed how small the world is in God’s hands, I cannot help but tell the story…

Please continue reading today’s post at A Deeper Story!

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The Latest on “What a Woman is Worth”

Posted on February 13, 2012 | 26 Comments

Exciting things are happening in my little corner of the book publishing world! Whether this is the first you’ve heard of What a Woman is Worth or you’ve already committed your community group to buying an entire case when it comes out this summer (aw hey, thanks!), I think you’ll be interested in these updates and hope you’ll share them. Thanks, friends!

Second Call for Submissions

After getting an incredible initial turn-out, I’ve made a second call for submissions for What a Woman is Worth in order to fill the book with a broader range of angles and perspectives. Please see the Civitas Press website for all the new details and spread the news!

My First Video Interview

I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Lisa Colón DeLay, whose supreme editing skills managed to eliminate my numerous nervous mentions of the word “sex” and allowed me to look far more composed than I felt for my first book interview. Please see (and share!) it below, and check out her site for more of her fun video interviews.

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Watering Weeds into Flowers

Posted on February 9, 2012 | 86 Comments

It was a day-after-day kind of day. Another day at home, twin three-year-olds whining at me, wearing on me, pulling on me and my threadbare patience. I read all about the French parents and their supremely well-behaved offspring that the entire Internet was going ga-ga over, and I was 12-years tired of my whole stay-at-home gig, and these people amazed and inspired and pissed me off, and I tried to reproduce their authoritative tone, but I guess I lacked a certain je ne sais quoi because my smallest children kept acting like total merde.

“I hate staying at home,” I confessed.

And it was selfish, this admission out loud, this burden on the man whose hands were tied to an office desk, whose heart broke a little more every time he heard over the phone that his babies were not delighted over. But his words bore no admonishment, only gentle truth: “You won’t have that forever. And then you’ll miss it, you know.”

And I knew it; I know it. But that day I didn’t want to pay the price for future fond memories. Right then, that day, I didn’t want to be yelled at about tightening the straps of tiny shoes. I wanted to do my work, alone.

So they yelled and I yelled back, and instead of discipline I taught them “goddammit,” and I felt bad for them but mostly I felt bad for myself.

He came home for lunch but the respite was brief because they wanted to sit on my lap before I’d finished my salad. And I was hungry. So I grumped and I gritched til I didn’t have to hold them, and I got to eat my salad, but he held the big-blue-eyed babies, and they laid curly heads on Daddy, and I could tell they were all filled.

Before he left, he reminded us about watering the new plants in the garden– strawberries and lettuce to grow and to grow on. So I heaved sighs and we donned shoes and I-know-I-know-you-want-me-to-tighten-the-strap.

I stood by the spigot, filling and refilling sun-bleached plastic watering cans, and my littlest girls made merry trails of drops, back and forth between a grumpy mama and a winter-worn garden. But after a few minutes of tuned-out refill duty, I noticed that they were watering weeds.

And I realized that’s what I’d been doing all day.

So I gently guided their efforts to watering the fruit- and flower-bearing plants, and after they decided our work was done, my two tiny girls delighted to pick me bouquets. And I could see that they were weeds, but in that moment, they looked just like flowers.

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Guest Post: “Praying for Rainbows”

Posted on February 6, 2012 | 39 Comments

Today’s guest post comes from Jennifer Deibel of This Gal’s Journey. Ever since she began commenting at TOL, Jen has been a cheerful encouragement to me. It’s my pleasure now to share her honest, encouraging thoughts with you. –Tamara

(What’s up with all the guest posts around here lately?)

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We live in a small village in Western Ireland. It’s quaint, quiet, removed. For a girl who grew up in the Arizona desert, the lush green grass, rolling hills and copious amounts of water are like chocolate to this mama’s soul: both comforting and seriously addicting. We moved here with our children nearly three years ago and I have loved nearly every minute of it.

While we are here and I am raising my wee tribe, teaching them how to bite their husband’s head off love their neighbor and live for themselves follow God, I often find them teaching me. Shocker.

Every night at bedtime, we read a story together and then pray. We typically make sure we thank God for at least one thing and ask Him to help us with at least one thing. Nearly every night, my four-year-old asks God, “And could you please make tomorrow with a little bit of rain and a little bit of sun. In Jesus’ name, amen.” (You do know adding that little phrase at the end is what guarantees your prayer will be answered, right?) Anyway.

Did I mention we have copious amounts of water here? That’s probably because it rains. A lot. No, seriously, it rains all the freaking time. It didn’t get to be the land of 40 shades of green by bathing in the sun 300 days a year. It’s not unusual for us to not see the sun for five or six days in a row. It’s also not unusual to hear my children praying at nighttime for God to please, please, please let there be sun tomorrow so they can play outside/go on their field trip/not get soaked getting from the house to the car.

There have been several times where He’s answered their prayers with a resounding “Yes!” And it’s so fun to see and hear their squeals of excitement when they realize that God really did hear them. However, there have been countless other times where He, for whatever reason (probably something lame like the balance of the global ecosystem or something), has decided to answer “No,” and we wake to rain. Again.

So, my little girl’s prayer for a “little bit of rain and a little bit of sun” was a bit confusing to me. At first I thought she might think her prayer stood more chance of being answered if she was willing to deal with both sides of the coin. Or maybe she just wanted enough sun to be able to play outside at recess. Finally, I asked her why she kept asking for that. She looked at me with her haunting, ice-blue eyes and stated matter-of-factly, “So He can make a rainbow for me.” With that tone only four-year-olds can make sound cute, that how-dumb-are-you-but-I’ll-be-nice-and-explain-it-anyway tone.

Be still my heart.

My sweet little girl was praying for a rainbow. All at once, a flood of pictures came to my mind of all the rainbows we’d seen in the last month. I remembered how with each one her joy and excitement took her bounding and bouncing all around the house/car/yard whenever she saw one. I never quite understood why she got so excited. I just thought, “This kid really likes rainbows.” Now I understand. She knows her Daddy loves her because He gives her rainbows. So, she asks Him for more. And He gives more. And she opens up to Him more. And He dotes on her more. See the cycle?

Sometimes I think I have it all figured out with my “Oh, Lords” and “If it’s Your wills” and “In Jesus’ Names.” But I miss out so much on just enjoying my Father, basking in His love for me. No, I don’t bask. I doubt. And refuse. And push away. But I want to be more like my four-year-old. I want to pray for rainbows.

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Jen is your typical American wife and mother living life, raising kids, and working, only she’s doing it in Ireland. She has been married to the love of her life, Seth, for 11 years and is extremely blessed to be mom to two delightful little girls and one hilarious little man.  Jen passionately loves the Lord, her family, music, dance, writing, coffee and chocolate (not always in that order).

She writes at This Gal’s Journey and you can find her on Twitter and Facebook.

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Permit a Woman to Speak

Posted on February 3, 2012 | 24 Comments

There was much to-do on the Internet yesterday over a famous pastor and his ideas about the “feel” of Christianity. And the whole thing– yet another in a tiresome succession of divisive, hurtful arguments among the people who are meant to radiate Christ– was just too much for me. So I said only, “Grateful that Christianity is defined by Christ and not by famous pastors.”

That sucker got re-tweeted and “liked” like nobody’s business. And everyone, with their own particular leanings, might well have imagined a different famous pastor as they raised amen with the click of a mouse.

No matter whom you picture, it’s just as true. Yet we stand in our camps and argue til all we hear is the strain in our own voices. I’m tired, friends. I can’t do it, at least not today.

But there is one thing I can do, and it might even do just a tiny bit more good than all the arguing. Every Friday in 2012, my friend Ed Cyzewski is hosting a guest post for his Women in Ministry Series in order to encourage women to pursue their God-given callings. Today it’s my honor to contribute to the series with a post on tuning out the arguing and answering God’s call.

Please visit Ed’s blog for my post, Permit a Woman to Speak, and join the discussion there.

(But no arguing. I mean it.)

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