The Power and Importance of Sisterhood

I feel happy right now. I’m exhausted, but completely content. As I write this, the muscles in my right leg are still sore from the 200 miles of flexing them as I drove for a road trip. I haven’t even unpacked. But I’m not anxious about the beginning of the workweek, nor am I crabby about the repairs my car probably needs from the abusive driving I tend to partake in. I’m just happy.

This weekend, I went to Iowa to see some of my best friends. These are the girls with whom I experienced college, and since we graduated, we’ve made a point every few months to spend a weekend together in one of our respective home states. When we started doing these weekends, I thought they’d surely fade into oblivion as we all got busier and our lives became more hectic. Instead, I’ve been surprised to discover we’ve started having these weekends more often, and they’ve gotten better and more meaningful with each visit. The truth is, the more distance we feel from one another in our lives, the more homesick we are for what we experience when we are together: a sisterhood.

My own sisters taught me everything I know, from how to flawlessly apply mascara (you have to move the brush side to side, not just up and down), to how to flirt (the hair flip is completely useless), to how to have integrity in my relationships with God and others. They taught me about the world, and they tried their hardest to protect me from the bad stuff. What they may have never realized is that the most important lesson they ever taught me was the lesson of sisterhood: the importance of deep female friendships that can exist in full-health across state lines, married/single lines, and the daily problems that can bring us down.

Thank God for sisters.

Before I was born, my mom used to pray that my two older sisters would be like David and Jonathan. First Samuel 18:1 says that “Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself” (NIV). They loved each other as brothers, and it was a beautiful relationship. God listened to my mom’s prayer. By the time I came along, my sisters had developed a close-knit friendship that seemed impenetrable through my young eyes. Yet they somehow made room for me, even if I was the most obnoxious thing to come out of 1986. I could not be more grateful for this.

We all have sisterhood, or at least potential sisterhood, in our lives. Some of these women are blood-related, and some are by chance or choice, but we have them. However, sometimes as women, we can get so busy, and so perfectionistic, and well, let’s face it, so competitive with other women, that we forget how to build those relationships. We forget how to know one another and how to build up one another. And maybe sometimes, we forget to care.

On the flipside, I think we also forget that we need sisters. A few months into my best friend’s first year of marriage, she told me that one of the things she’d realized was that she still needed my friendship, because I played a unique role in her life. I was her sister. Last year, when my roommate and I had lived together for long enough to stop being so “polite,” she announced to me that we’d officially entered into a sister relationship, because we could now tell each other when we were acting like selfish idiots. Sisterhood isn’t just about having a nice friend to go shopping with—it’s about having women in your life who will tell you, to your face, whatever it is that you need to hear. These are the women in our lives who are honest. These women are golden.

Sisterhood has some serious spiritual growth applications. James says that we must “confess [our] sins to each other and pray for each other so that [we] may be healed” (James 5:16, NIV). The Bible commands us to develop the kinds of friendships in which we can confess our sins to one another, and trust that those with whom we are confessing will not judge us, but instead, will lift us up and pray for healing from our sins. God gave us friendships and told us to live in community with one another, not simply so that we won’t get lonely, but so we can help one another grow, and get one another through the rocky places we all face on our spiritual paths.

So here’s my question: Do you have women, sisters, in your life with whom you can honestly and openly share your life? If not, what’s stopping you?

Bears Are My Favorite Fear; Loneliness Is Scarier

Fear runs deep in my veins. Things scare me more than they do other people. But bears (grizzly bears, specifically), have always been the fear I’m most famous for within my family. I’ve been afraid of bears since I was about five years old. It started when I first saw the seemingly innocent 1988 film The Bear, while our family was staying at my cousin’s home in Missouri. (Side note: Let this be a lesson for parents. There will be some movies that will unexpectedly scar your children for life.)

When I was young, the fear of bears haunted me many nights. I have a vivid memory of sitting in our family room, which had two doors, strategizing my escape if a bear happened to enter through one of them. I forgot to mention that I’ve also lived in the suburbs of Chicago my entire life—the threat of a bear attack isn’t very realistic around here. Understandably, as I grew older, reason began to keep my fear of bears at bay, and it hasn’t haunted me unless there was good reason, like camping in Yellowstone National Park where signs are posted on every tree warning campers to clean up every single scrap of food OR ELSE.

Now though, different fears creep up on me: the ones rooted in spiritual desires that get twisted to draw us into dark places.

I was unexpectedly drawn into one of those dark places this past winter. I contracted a flu virus that rendered me bedridden for two weeks. My husband was traveling at the time, so I found myself at home, unable to work, with no hope of seeing a comforting face at the end of the day. I can’t remember a time when I felt more alone, purposeless. Needless to say, I fell into a depression. I’d wake in the morning, frustrated over still feeling ill, call my mom or my husband, and have nothing new to say so I’d just cry. Loneliness turned into feelings of worthlessness, and each day I continued to be sick, I sunk deeper into the hopeless lie that I was totally alone.

The day before I decided to go back to work, a friend brought over some homemade soup. Though our interaction lasted only a few minutes, it energized my afternoon. Loneliness was weighing down my heart, and that one visit began to transform the lie I too often fall for—I’m on my own.

It wasn’t until my first day back at work that I was able to reflect on those two weeks. I went back not feeling 100 percent, but the encouraging words and smiles from friends and coworkers began to heal me physically and spiritually. People cared. Those around me wanted to be there for me, sympathize with me, and pray for my health.

This trap is all too familiar. I should know better than to get lured in, but it happens regularly. At all stages of my life I’ve been lonely for true intimacy. Loneliness has also kept me from confessing sin, and it tends to be a fear that’s too easy to wallow in. Our enemy wants us to think there’s no one to turn to, and he uses some of our deepest spiritual desires against us to convince us. After all, aren’t we supposed to long for a deeper connection? Hasn’t God created us so that he can be the only One to truly fill and overflow our life? What better way to distract us from this holy desire than by convincing us we’re alone?

My flu taught me last winter that I don’t need to live in fear. Loneliness doesn’t have to haunt me, because there’s a simple escape. It’s calling a friend or family member who wants to be there for me, and asking for prayer or for company; and it’s the opportunity to call on a Lord who cares deeply for me—who offers true intimacy in this life and the next.

Thank God for Good News!

My husband and I were part of the billion people tuned in to the Chilean miners’ rescue after 69 days being trapped in a collapsed copper and gold mine. From the moment the first rescuer, Manuel Gonzalez, entered the rescue capsule, nicknamed Phoenix, and descended more than 2,000 feet into the depths of the earth, all I could think or talk about was the rescue. I cried and laughed and cheered with each man who exited the capsule and greeted the watching world. I was joined in unity with people from around the globe watching 33 men who survived long and hard circumstances; unthinkable, unimaginable circumstances.

But they survived. And we all thanked God for his providence and for working a miracle.

And for 24 hours the news stations broadcast good news. Teamwork, love, joy, hope-fulfilled, success, family, friends, unity, laughter, faith, celebration.

My family and I shared our favorite scenes during the long rescue operation. And this morning, I awoke feeling euphoric. For the first time, I’d tuned in to the news and heard nothing but goodness and decency and joy. It was contagious! How can you not smile at this video? Or this photo?

In the midst of so much tragedy, for one day my mind was bombarded with good news and celebration. And I wonder how different I would be—the world would be—if every day we filled our minds with good news? How different would our culture be if newscasts spent a majority of their time celebrating the successes? (Ever notice how the successes are relegated to the last minute and a half of a news show, and they’re usually video of the local zoo’s newest birth?)

The apostle Paul tells us, “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. . . . Then the God of peace will be with you” (Philippians 4:8-9).

It worked for the Chilean miners. In fact, Jimmy Sanchez, 19, wrote in a letter before the rescue, “There are actually 34 of us, because God has never left us down here.”.

And that sounds like good news to me.

The Chicago Marathon Finish!

To all the Kyria readers who have followed my God-called journey to run the 10-10-10 marathon on behalf of clean water for families in Africa. I made it!

Thanks for your thoughtful words and prayers leading up to--and throughout--the Chicago Marathon this past Sunday. The temperature was brutal, but I made it across the finish line--slowly (6:45), but without injury, which was my goal.

My body hurt all over, but the thought that pushed me across the finish line was picturing a mother in Africa hauling water in a 5-gallon bucket on her head day after day. I imagined the aches and pains she must endure everyday. While my finish line lay just ahead, I realized that women like her don't have a finish line in sight. Without access to clean water, their daily lives are consumed with finding water. Knowing this renewed my energy to keep running!

So far, I’ve raised more than $8,600 to help bring clean water to people who have never known this basic necessity of life. One generous donor (who was skeptical about whether I’d finish the race) committed to donating $100 for every mile I completed. I told him to be prepared for a big pay-out! Sure enough, after I crossed that finish line, another $2,620 appeared on my World Vision web page. (If you'd still like to donate to this great cause, you can go to my web page and make an online donation directly to World Vision at: http://bit.ly/bBQdXU.

People keep asking me if I'll do another marathon. That's a little like asking a woman who's just had a baby if she wants more kids! Too soon to tell. But regardless of whether I run another 26.2 miles, I want to continue supporting World Vision in their efforts to bring water to the world. The marathon is behind me, but the need for water continues on.

Many thanks for your support and prayers! They made all the difference!

Also, make sure to check out Kyria advisory board member Shauna Niequist's blog post about the race. And if you didn’t catch my interview with her beforehand, you can see it here.

The Other Side of Facebook

I appreciated Beatrice Rusu’s post about Facebook that went up two weeks ago, and I understand the angle she chose to take on its implications. I’m not always a social media lover (despite the fun it affords me), particularly for such reasons as Beatrice articulated.

But I had an experience recently that gave me an unexpected appreciation for Facebook.

This summer was my 10 year high school reunion. It felt surreal to walk in and have someone’s first words to me be, “Those people you work with look like so much fun! Like when y’all were playing that game at that girl’s house?” (Can you tell I’m from Alabama?)

Facebook had come through again, crossing 700 miles of cyberspace to inform people whom I hadn’t spoken to in 10 years about the game I’d played with my co-workers the weekend before. I chuckled to myself as my friend Brad’s 35-year-old wife’s eyes got really big: “This is nothing like my 10 year high school reunion. Facebook.”

It was nice to skip over all of the “Heeeey! You look so great! Now what are y’all up to these days? Where are y’all livin’?” since much of that information was already known. But the experience that stuck out as a truly substantive benefit of Facebook was my interaction with Drew. Drew’s dad had died not even a year earlier. I’d somehow stumbled across this information on Facebook around the time it had happened. I’m not even friends with Drew on Facebook; we were never good friends in school, only acquaintances. But as can happen at large social mixers, I ended up standing next to Drew at one point. Rather than saying, “So how have you been?” or “What’s going on with you these days?” I took the leap into what I knew was likely the biggest portion of his present life: “Your dad died this year. How are you doing?”

I don’t know if Drew would have offered the news of his dad’s death without my prompting. Maybe he would have. But since I knew already, he didn’t have to initiate it. He didn’t have to break that horrible news yet again to an unsuspecting someone. Nor did he have to answer a “How are you?” question superficially. He responded really beautifully, with openness and strength.

I asked a few more questions surrounding it all, and after our conversation, which felt like a smooth, solid stone in the rapid river of a public high school reunion, we embraced with a deeper understanding of each other. And a true care. At least, I trust he felt that from me.

This experience makes me think more about the positive ramifications of Facebook. Where I’ve been more cynical about it historically, I can now imagine ways that Facebook might serve not as a veil to hide behind, but truly as a bridge to connect two separate people.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Have you had any similar experiences with social media? Have you found it beneficial in your ministry?

Overcoming Physical and Sexual Abuse Webinar

On Wednesday, October 6, Kyria’s editor, Ginger Kolbaba, talked with bestselling author and physical and sexual abuse survivor Cecil Murphey on the subject of abuse. Cecil is also the author of When a Man You Love Was Abused (Kregel Publications). If you missed this powerful and important webinar, sponsored by Kregel Publications check it out here in its entirety.

(Please note that you must have Adobe Flash installed to be able to view the webinar, and the file cannot be downloaded to be viewed later.)

For more resources, Kyria recommends:

When a Man You Love Was Abused by Cecil Murphey (Kregel Publications)

The Silent Epidemic
Countless Christian women are battered every day. Here's how to respond if you or someone you love is abused.
By Corrie Cutrer

Is My Friend Being Abused?
How to spot the signs of domestic violence
By Corrie Cutrer

When Someone You Love Is Abused
What you need to know and how you can make a difference
By Corrie Cutrer

Helping Abused Women
Once abused, now Joyce Holt is serving other desperate women
By Mary DeMuth

Opening the Door to Healing
When childhood sexual abuse affects a marriage's intimacy
By Mary DeMuth

Preventing and Dealing with Sexual Abuse
How to increase safety for children and improve ministry to victims of abuse
(Use coupon code PREVENT10 to receive 50 percent off when you order this resource through October 30, 2010.)

Perspectives on Marriage
What to do in an abusive relationship.

Reducing the Risk
Keeping your ministry safe from child sexual abuse

2010 Child Abuse Reporting Laws for Churches Feature Report

Child Abuse Response Plan
Put a plan into action to prevent child sexual abuse from happening in your church

Creating Child Protection Policies
A checklist to quickly assess your protection program

Juvenile Offenders in the Church
What churches need to know to prevent juvenile sexual misconduct from occurring among the young people in their congregation

Redefining God as Father
How Papa-God showed me my heart—and his
By Karen Rabbitt

The Blind Side’s Sean Tuohy- LIVE webinar

Please view the "Living the Giving Life" webinar with Sean Tuohy, recorded on 9/28/10. We hope you are touched and challenged to focus your giving with a conscious effort.

(Please note that you must have Adobe Flash installed to be able to view the webinar, and the file cannot be downloaded to be viewed later.)

Why Every Mile Matters

I’ve been training for the Chicago Marathon for the past 24 weeks. Six months ago when I signed up to run this race to help raise money for clean water in Africa, I could only run three miles. Today, I’ve logged hundreds of training miles, many of them solo, and lots of them with Team World Vision on Saturday mornings along a nearby path.

As race day nears, I feel excited and afraid at the same time. Because this is my first marathon, there are so many unknowns. What will the weather be like? Will my knee (that I injured while training) be healed by then? Will I struggle to go the full distance, or will adrenaline and the support of friends carry me along?

To this point, my longest run has been about 22 miles. On 10-10-10, I will go 26.2 miles, winding my way through the streets of Chicago with tens of thousands of other runners, all of us keeping our eyes fixed on the prize—the finish line.

But in the time it takes me to get across the finish line, more than 1,000 kids around the world will cross their own—they will have died of thirst.

According to World Vision, a child dies every 21 seconds for lack of access to clean water. Clean water is the key to preventing diseases, creating sustainable food sources, and ensuring that kids can go to school instead of spending hours each day in search of water.

As I swallow this reality, I keep wondering what difference it makes that I have trained six months for a race to raise money. Why not just write a check to the charity and be done with it? What’s the value of investing my own sweat and tears into an event that has little to do with digging wells?

I’ll tell you why.

Some days when I wake before dawn, tie up my laces, and run through my neighborhood, it feels so futile and meaningless. But then I imagine myself with a five-gallon bucket on my head, walking miles for water. Running a mile in another person’s shoes, so to speak, I’ve noticed a deeper empathy welling up inside me. Although I don’t want for water, I can envision what it would be like not to have easy access to it. Not starting the day with a quick swig; not showering after coming home sweaty from a run; not giving a sick child a sip to cool his fever. Picturing this plight builds compassion.

Also, fundraising is a humbling experience. If I could write a check to fund a new well (about $2,500) or a water filtration system (approximately $25,000), I would. But I don’t have that kind of money. I need to ask for it on behalf of others a world away who don’t have access to people with money. Asking is hard. But in asking, we receive. And in receiving we experience the blessings of God’s provision. (And for my shameless plug, if you have been blessed financially and want to help me reach my fundraising goal, click here.)

As donations have streamed in, I’ve been deeply moved by people’s generosity. Most of us will never get to meet the people who will receive a well from the money we’ve raised. And yet knowing that strangers on the other side of the planet will receive a cold cup of water in Christ’s name—that’s worth running for.

There have been innumerable other benefits in training for this marathon. At times I’ve lost sight of the real reason I’m running and instead have become preoccupied with the personal benefits: How many pounds have I lost? Do my thighs look more sculpted? Have I improved my speed? Ultimately, though, this marathon has taught me the truth of Hebrews 12:11: “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”

Training for this marathon has often seemed unpleasant and painful. But I’m trusting that all the miles I have run have mattered, and even now I see glimpses of a harvest before the finish line.

What discipline is God using in your life to reap a harvest?

Recently, I sat down with Shauna Niequist, author of Bittersweet and Cold Tangerines and also one of my running mates on Team World Vision. Shauna shares what compelled her to train for the Chicago Marathon. Her reason is sure to challenge you to action!