Getting beyond race, gender, and teen pregnancy as we discuss this fascinating election season

Last night at a local restaurant over a plate of fou-fou cheese and fruit, my friend Kathryn and I discussed a woman we’d never even heard of a week earlier. That’s right, Sarah Palin.

Somehow over the past few months, the issue of politics has worked its way into my friend’s and my usual chatter about work and men. And we ran some of our first political coverage in the current issue of TCW (see our sneak peek below).

Even though Kathryn and I aren’t uber-political, how can we not discuss politics when the past week alone has been pretty incredible: Obama filled a stadium to mark history as our first African American presidential candidate. McCain picked a woman as his running mate. And that woman’s unmarried teenage daughter turned out to be pregnant. No matter your interest level in politics (or lack thereof) or your party affiliation (or lack thereof), there’s been plenty to discuss.

Olympics reflections both sappy and snappy—and a sneak peek at our interview with a gold medalist

I'm an Olympics junkie. So, as of last Friday night, I've officially become a couch potato. But it's for good causes: world peace, stunning displays of sportsmanship, and those wondrously sappy "Olympic moments."

I watched the opening ceremonies at my friend Melody's place. She and I munched on Chinese takeout, her cleverly appropriate dinner suggestion, while we oohed and aahed at the eerily smiley drum corps, the world's largest LED screen, the gorgeously embroidered costumes, those crazy green Christmas light people. And Lin Hao, the nine-year-old Chinese boy who survived the Sichuan earthquake and then rescued two of his classmates. He made us cry.

Sure, accomplishing 11 things at once is impressive—but sometimes doing 1 thing is even better.

The realization hit me as I was sitting alongside the sleepy bank of Lake Ellyn, enjoying the Fourth of July fireworks earlier this month. I—and the crowd nestled around me—was marveling at the sparkly display in the dark, humid air above. The event was a delightful little slice of Americana.

Except for all the cell phones.

When I glanced around, I realized my two friends were fixed not on the sky, but on the tiny little screens in front of them. One friend was snapping pictures of the fireworks for her out-of-state kids to enjoy. The other friend was texting her boyfriend in hopes of catching up with him later that night. Several nearby teens were engaged in similar electronic activities.

What a stinging comment taught me about my own need for grace

I don't know why the comment stuck. But three days later, it was still working me like a splinter—tiny, painful, and annoying.

It happened when I was at a local coffee shop with married ladies from my church. As a single woman, I always appreciate being invited to join them, but I also fortify myself on the car ride there. Sometimes in this gathering I feel like an outsider—because of either my own insecurities or their remarks. Tonight was the latter.

To inspire you in The TCW Walking Challenge

Walking through my neighborhood the other day, I recalled a quote by Henry David Thoreau I’d recently read: “An early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day.” Granted, it was 2:30 in the afternoon (I’m not a morning person), but I certainly resonated with the blessing component.

I felt grandness in being part of a long tradition of walkers. And not just walkers, but keen observers who recognize the hidden blessings in simply putting one foot in front of the other.

Looking for a fun getaway for you and “your girls”?

The Girl’s Get-A-Way Cruise is an all-inclusive, women-only trip that includes worship services, workshops, concerts, dining, lodging, and more. Grab your sister, mother, daughter, girlfriends, or church group and join TCW’s Camerin Courtney and Ginger Kolbaba for this spirited women’s retreat at sea.

February 5-9, 2009
Mobile, Alabama to Cozumel, Mexico

Click here for more information.

What I’ve gained from life’s disappointments

I was misled. In fact, many of us were as we grew up in our mainline churches and listened intently to the flannelgraph stories of Moses parting the Red Sea, the little boy with the loaves and fishes, and the wavy-haired Jesus who smiled throughout. The stories were all so nice and tidy and happy.

As we sat cross-legged sipping juice and nibbling graham crackers, well-meaning adults told us if we were good boys and girls and didn't disobey our parents, life would be happy. If we read our Bibles and prayed enough, life would be good. And we believed.

Then we grew up.

Making the most of multitasking

I'm afraid some of my neighbors know me as “That Crazy Walking and Talking Woman.” You see, whenever I walk in the evening, I process my day’s events. I think and talk to myself—sometimes audibly. I don’t mean to talk aloud; I just get really wrapped up in my thoughts—and, thankfully, distracted from my uncomfortable sweating.

I especially love walking with another person, so there’s someone who’ll talk back. On an afternoon stroll with my friend Stephanie not long ago, we were so busy catching up on her family and my recent breakup that we sailed through our 20-minute workout.

Tales of a recovering pessimist

I'm not exactly sure when I realized I'd become a pessimist.

Maybe the thought occurred to me when I caught myself saying "Of course" after any unfortunate event—a paper cut, a parking ticket, a pen stain on my freshly dry-cleaned pants.

Or when a guy who showed romantic interest in me turned out to be married, and I told a friend, "It figures. I knew something had to be wrong."

I don't know which of these—or several other—comments tipped me off about my Eeyore tendencies. But I knew the pessimism had to stop.

My challenging first days of the TCW Walking Challenge

After reading posts from all you who’ve joined me on this journey, I’m encouraged and empowered to know you, too, are huffing and puffing in your living room or neighborhood. To encourage you in turn, here’s a peek at my first week:

Sunday: I have a disagreement with my boyfriend, so I walk to work off frustration. Not the prettiest reason to work out, but I'm thankful for any motivation! After a long winter, I revel in the fresh air—even though I’m bundled up for the still-frigid Chicago temperatures. I walk to a nearby lake, affectionately dubbed “My Happy Place,” where I sit on a park bench and call a friend on my cell phone. I know sitting and chatting aren’t exactly aerobic activities, but I rationalize that I'm pacing myself. Thanks to my friend’s encouraging words, the peaceful scenery, and my exercise-induced endorphins, I return home calmer and happier.

Take the first step today.

Something wasn’t quite right. I was watching a workout DVD while sitting on my couch—and eating.

In my defense, I’d stopped home for lunch during my workday, and popped in the DVD as research. I’d just interviewed fitness guru Leslie Sansone for the “TCW Talks to . . . ” article. I figured I should see her demonstrating her hallmark walking-centered workouts before I wrote her story.

But I felt silly just sitting there—resting my feet on my coffee table and munching my turkey sandwich—as Leslie and her five fitness buddies were working up a sweat on my TV screen. So I put down my half-eaten sandwich, stood up, and started walking along.

How you’ve inspired us with your compassion and generosity

We had high hopes for you. And you haven’t disappointed us.

When we launched TCW’s first-ever Cause of the Year in our January/February issue, we knew we were taking a risk. Articles that focus on difficult issues are always a tough sell. And we selected a huge, complicated issue to tackle this inaugural year: sex trafficking.

We were inspired to take this risk because we know women today want to make a difference in the world. Thanks to the Internet and an increasingly global society, everyone’s more aware of the disease, genocide, famine, poverty, and other difficulties in every corner of the planet.

What packing up my grandpa’s possessions taught me about my things

I’d never even peeked into my grandpa’s closet before last month, when my mom and I flung the doors wide and took out sweaters and dress shirts one by one. We packed a few of the items into a duffel bag to take to his hospital room—and the rest into big black garbage bags to give away.

We didn’t even know where we were moving Grandpa; we simply knew he wasn’t going to get well enough to stay here, in the assisted-living apartment he’d moved into three years ago after my grandma had passed away. A week and a half before Christmas, a stroke had paralyzed the left side of his body. So while he fought to regain strength as he lay in a nearby hospital bed, I fought to hold back tears as I folded his shirts and pants, gathered his belts and shoes.

After a week in Cambodia, I'm different—and want to stay that way.

This is a story of God’s grace. Grace that played out in a Phnom Penh conference facility, in a small Cambodian church, in my parents’ guest room, and, ultimately, in my heart.

The first act of God’s grace on my short-term missions trip three weeks ago was our team’s safe arrival in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, after 20 hours of flight. Four members of my church and I were there to work with one of our church’s missionaries, who’d launched a publishing company in Phnom Penh in 2004. Our team was staging a four-day conference; one member would discuss sound business practices with the publisher, while the others would teach graphic design or editing. I was to teach writing.

How I’ve made peace with my weepiness

I admit I’m a weepy woman. I’ve been known to cry not just at friends’ divorces, relatives’ miscarriages, and my grandma’s funeral, but also at airport reunions, Hallmark Hall of Fame made-for-TV movies, breakup ballads, and long-distance telephone carrier commercials.

I used to feel sheepish about my weepiness. When I’d laugh so hard tears streamed down my face, friends would stare, confused, and ask, “Why are you crying?” The first time I cried in front of one college boyfriend, he looked at me as if I had three heads and oh-so-helpfully asked, “What am I supposed to do now?” A former roommate would quietly escape the room whenever my phone conversations included tears.

All these experiences left me feeling a bit like an overemotional freak. So I donned my daily coats of waterproof mascara, kept my secret stash of Kleenex at the ready, and tried my best to hide my tearfulness from the world.

How I’ve learned that being one is a precious privilege and an awesome responsibility

The question has stayed with me for nearly three years. It pops up in my consciousness every now and then like a buoy, making me a bit uncomfortable. But I'm learning that’s not such a bad thing.

When I first heard the question, I was in California visiting my friends Sandie and Estera, two women I’d met the year before at an overseas conference for women in Christian publishing. Since my friends were both missions-minded and poised at crossroads in their lives, I knew we’d enjoy stimulating conversation about life, purpose, and direction. I couldn't wait.

Why admitting that is actually a great display of strength

Linda is retiring next month and moving out of state. I'm happy for her, but sad for me. Over the past 11 years, this wise Christian woman walked me through family frustrations, work woes, bad breakups, and bouts of depression. She supported me, challenged me, frustrated me, and prayed with me.

And at the end of each time together, I wrote her a check. Because Linda is my counselor.

I started seeing Linda more than a decade ago to help me sort through a serious dating relationship. The guy was ready to talk marriage; I wasn’t so sure. My head told me, Don’t pass up this great guy, but my heart felt no peace about moving forward. After months of exhausting everyone around me with agonizing questions—“How did you know you wanted to marry your spouse?“ and “Which should you follow: your head or your heart?”—one kind friend finally suggested I might find it helpful to meet with a Christian counselor.

Why do I feel like an outsider at many women's ministry functions?

The evening was supposed to be encouraging. Instead it ended with tears—mine.

My mom and I were attending a women's ministry event—a weekend retreat dubbed an escape. To us busy career women, this sounded like just what we needed—time away from the daily grind. And connecting with one another on this getaway was the biggest draw of all.

So on a Friday afternoon we flew to this national conference anticipating encouragement, togetherness, and a sense of belonging to the larger community of Christian women.

But by Saturday night I simply felt invisible.

Hearty congratulations to singer/songwriter and former TCW cover girl Sara Groves on the July 13 birth of her daughter, Ruby Cate Groves. Ruby joins big brothers Kirby, six, and Toby, three. Check out TCW’s 2006 interview with Sara, “The Gift of Doubt," as well as our sister site’s coverage of this thought-provoking artist.

My humble Sunday morning home has turned out to be a surprise blessing

They talked about it being a sacrifice.

Those of us who decided to be part of our church’s new satellite location would give up the comforts of our modern building, complete with banks of windows and a cool steeple, in a chi-chi Chicagoland suburb.

Instead we’d meet at a tired community center in the one-block downtown of a nondescript ’burb. We’d gather there for a year or two—until the nearby building we purchased underwent a transformation from a business into a church.

As Ruth Graham passes, we recall and celebrate her faithful legacy.

She was a remarkable Christian woman. The daughter of missionaries. A preacher’s wife (make that the preacher’s wife). The mother of prodigals. The author or coauthor of 14 books. A guest of national leaders. A recipient with her husband, Billy, of a Congressional Gold Medal. A woman of outspoken humility and unshakable faith.

Ruth Bell Graham died at her home in North Carolina yesterday, surrounded by her husband of 63 years and their five children. She was 87.

Recently I spent my Saturday night sitting in the bleachers of a parks and recreation building on the outskirts of Chicago, rooting for Hoosier Mama and Georgia O’Grief. It was a roller-derby match-up between the Windy City Rollers and Seattle’s Grave Danger. In other words, a bunch of tough women sporting helmets and knee pads, flying elbows and fishnet stockings, creative names and impressive bruises.

Not my typical Saturday night.

Camerin Courtney, Editor
Besides writing and editing for TCW, Camerin also writes a regular column for ChristianSingles Today.com as well as occasional movie reviews for ChristianityToday Movies.com, both sister sites of TodaysChristianWoman.com. She's also authored two books, Table for One and The unGuide to Dating (Revell). When she isn't writing, Camerin loves hanging out in coffee shops, showering her niece and nephew with hugs, eating out with friends, volunteering with an English as a Second Language class, and traveling internationally (she's been to 15 countries and counting). Originally from Kansas City, she now resides in a vintage apartment in the Chicago suburbs, where her favorite amenities are the art-house theater and public library just two blocks away.