Are you strong enough to be my man?

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

“But I have to warn you; this may make me a better person and that is not the man you fell in love with!”
–Chandler Bing in “The One with the Nap Partners”

I don’t know how it came up. Perhaps it was because relationships are a hot topic on summer projects. (This is “Campus Crusade for Couples,” after all.) But yesterday I found myself explaining my love of Chandler to my friend Daniel.

“I like guys who are a little bit of a jerk,” I said.

I couldn’t make him understand why that is, or even exactly what I meant by that. Then I realized that I wasn’t sure what those words signified.

I spent the rest of the afternoon pondering that statement. There’s a difference between a healthy dose of sarcasm and jerkiness, of course. So why did I phrase my thought in that way?

You know what I think it is? I have this stereotypical image of my Christian brothers. Those that actually date are gentle, soft beings – whether in my erroneous view or in reality. If they show interest in us (specifically in me), they must be weak.

What a ridiculous idea! Am I so afraid of fitting into some preconceived mold that I look down my nose at perfectly fine men? Are my standards so high that they’re unrealistic?

I don’t know the answers to those questions. The men who have been and who will be in my life often don’t fit the boxes I’m trying to draw. And what of the guys who do slip by my crazy ideas of what I want? How do my words reflect on them?

I don’t want to be what I mentally paint as a bland, cheesy Christian. I long to be someone who is making a difference, who is living. Somehow I want relationships that reflect that desire.

It’s cold, baby

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I took the first several steps cautiously, fully aware of the other women around me. I was teetering on black heels as I embarked on a mandatory prayer walk around the church parking lot. My words were soft mutterings even after I separated from the group.

The assignment was in conjunction with the evening’s Bible study. We’re focusing on the heart, and tonight’s lesson asked us to examine ourselves for bitterness. We were each given a slice of onion to represent the “bitter root” in our lives. After praying about it, we were to symbolically throw the pungent food away then return to be cleansed from its odor.

My roommate Jillian referenced my bitterness, only partially in jest, as we set about the task. She knew I had some stuff to deal with, and I knew I wasn’t excited to confront it.

I’ve referenced my skepticism about men many times to most people who know me (Jillian and our other roommates included). Those feelings aren’t directed at any particular person, but they are the residue from past moments of anger.

As I prayed through these thoughts, I began peeling away the onion’s layers. I paused at the second layer to snack on a bit of the raw vegetable.

That snack was just as crucial as the rest of the task. Much as I like onions, I enjoy bitterness. It’s a defense mechanism. When I’m defensive, I push people away. In theory, I minimize my chance of hurt. The bitter sarcasm even garners a few laughs along the way. But like the onion turns my breath sour, that bitterness stinks up the rest of my being.

I continued to peel away the layers as I prayed. It’s been quite some time since I’ve harbored bitterness toward an individual. Perhaps that’s what makes it so hard to move on?

I’m comfortable with the walls bitterness has constructed around my heart. To let go of that is allowing God full control of that portion of me. I know He is trustworthy and good. His provision and protection are far greater than anything I can construct.

Even so, I didn’t want to release the tiny portion of onion that remained after the peeling. What I was left with was too small to hurl away, but I needed to relinquish it nonetheless. As I flicked it away, I prayed in faith for God to revolutionize my heart. It’ll take His power to eradicate the last bits of bitterness from my life. I feel naked before Him; less than 24 hours later, I struggle not to clothe myself with that sin.

But the one who calls me is faithful. He will do it.

A blah-di-dah update from O-town

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

“Adventure” may be the key word for this summer.

Though I’m just a week in to my time in Orlando, Fla., adventure has been an unofficial theme. I don’t know what else I should have expected from 10 weeks spent with 40+ other college students, but it has been more abundant than I anticipated!

Those adventures have been evident in the community that we’ve formed. The group has been pro-active about developing friendships. We mix and mingle as much as possible and fully enjoy our time together. Already we’ve bonded during several unofficial events.

On Friday, the majority of the interns caravaned to Downtown Disney for a night of shopping, dancing and most of all, silliness. You’d think that would be adventureous enough on its own, but bad directions, prayers for a broken down car and the invasion of a kids’ dance party turned it into a night of memories.

Who let the dogs out?

Another set of bad directions (mine) provided a new pathway to work on the way to a bonfire at the lake. We left earlier than everyone else and arrived later… oops. 🙂 But the night was filled with more bonding (go figure) and more laughter… and a fun boat ride.

Sunset from the boat

Work began today, and it’s another set of adventures waiting to unfold. I can’t wait to share tales from the office place and pictures of my (rather large) cubicle. In the meantime, I’m going to close up shop for the day and head to dinner. It’s time to increase the bonds of that community…

Summer lovin’, had me a blast

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Hi everyone!

What a week it’s been. My summer in Orlando began early Monday afternoon as 40+ college students swarmed the clubhouse of our apartment complex here in sunny (and rainy and sunny and rainy) Florida. I was among the first to arrive and begin our week of orientation.

That orientation has consisted mostly of the typical Crusade instruction. We were trained (or re-trained) in the “four spiritual laws,” a tool for gospel presentation. We’ve been split into numerous groups (maximizing the number of people we meet!): we have “core groups” in which we meet for Bible study, and those are broken down into discipleship groups. The woman who is discipling me is my age – I think we’ll be friends. Everyone is also a member of a planning team. In those groups, we plan various events for the summer. I’m on the “body of Christ” team, and we’re responsible for organizing social events that are not only fun, but also provide a safe atmosphere in which we can build up and encourage one another.

Work begins Monday, and I can’t wait! We attended orientation at Crusade’s headquarters Friday morning. There, we received keys to the building (!), parking passes and staff ID badges. During this time, we also went on a tour of the facilities. It is a HUGE operation, as many of you already know, and that was certainly evident in the building. I am excited to be a part of something that is not only this monumental but is also aiming to effect change for Christ’s glory.

I intend to send you a short update each week to let you know how things are going and what you can pray for, if you so desire. As work begins on Monday morning, you can pray for relationships with my team members. I am excited to begin writing, and I will be sure to keep y’all posted!

And I will wait to find if this will last forever

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I lead a charmed life.

Sure, I have plenty of problems. Some of them are even major issues, things so serious that I’ve been praying about them for years. But the hard times are more than compensated for by the blessings I’ve received.

One of those has been the number of amazing roommates I’ve had. During my years at FSU, I heard many of my friends complain about roommate problems. I was always left marveling at my good fortune.

That “luck” (if you want to call it that) started with a game of roommate roulette prior to my freshman year. I was late in applying for housing and didn’t know anyone to ask to be my roommate, so I allowed Florida State to pair me with someone. That “someone” was Alison, a reserved girl from Gainesville who thought I had fun taste in music and didn’t mind when my milk spilled all over the fridge (even though she was a vegan). Despite our differences, we got along fabulously. We loved creating jokes that drove Heather crazy, and we respected one another’s space. Our giggles carried into the next several years – we remained roommates until I left Tallahassee in December 2002.

During the summer between our first and second years, I subleased an apartment with Apryl. We bonded when we lived diagonally from one another in the dorm (Heather was her roommate). The six-week summer session was filled with visits to Stetson’s, dinner parties and dancing in the rain. Apryl and I will probably never live together again – our living preferences are completely different. But we walked away from that summer with new memories that continue to bring laughter even five years later. (And Apryl continues to tell those stories to everyone we meet! ;))

Get down, boot scootin' boogie!
That’s Apryl on my right.

Alison and I were reunited as roommates when the fall semester started, though this time we lived down the hall from one another in the townhouse we shared with two other girls. I’ve already mentioned Heather, with whom I have spent countless talking till four a.m. Those two shared a bedroom, and I roomed with Paula on the other side of the apartment. The four of us moved across town to a four bedroom house in August 2001. Some of my favorite memories of those years come from the hours we spent in the living room, talking about everything and nothing or watching (and mocking) Paula’s soap operas. Heather and I were able to spend some quality time with Paula several weekends ago on the evening before her wedding. It was so much fun to watch one of my roommates walk down the aisle and begin a new chapter of life!

Peace out, homies!
Me & Heather hamming it up – as usual!
After Paula and I graduated, Heather’s little sister Erin and my little sister Cristin moved into the house. (Yes, she was so… so PAULA that it took two people to even begin to fill her space! ;)) That was an experience! They are both very dramatic – we used to describe them to people as “imagine us, only on speed.” They too were a bit messier than I prefer, but we had some great times belting out “How the Other Half Lives” in the living room.

When I moved to Alabama, I found a place to sublease using a roommate Web site. Even then, the girls I ended up with (Lauren and Sarah) were good roommates. We weren’t as close as I have been with the others, but we enjoyed one another’s company and even spent some time together outside the apartment. (And more importantly, Lauren was even more of a neat freak than I am! I felt like the sloppy one!)

Today marks the end of an era, according to my current roommate. I half laugh whenever Alisa utters that phrase; though I agree with her, it seems an era would be so much longer than the ten months we’ve spent together. I believe it was on my first night in San Diego last summer that I prayed about the friendship that would grow as we were roommates. I had prayed about it before (hey, pray without ceasing and all that jazz!), but it wasn’t until then that I considered how little time we had actually spent together. I suspected that we would have a blast as roommates, but we had only met once before. I suspected that the next two weeks (in which we would hang out in California and then drive across the country) would reveal a lot about how we would get along in the months to come.

CHEESE! Yes, we're silly.

I was right.

Self take photos rock!

We had a blast on that trip – I couldn’t have asked for a better time! We’ve learned each other’s quirks and know how to read one another’s behavior. She knows what it means when I’m eating too much popcorn, and I have the freedom to tell her when she’s overthinking. We’re not embarrassed to dance around the apartment like fools… or to dance in public like fools. We can have a great time taking pictures around Tuscaloosa (at least once a month!) or simply sitting in the apartment discussing theology.

Good times before Linus puked all over the apartment.

She’s been my closest friend in the state, which has been especially significant in a time when such friends were few and far between. I’m going to miss her when I return in August (heck, I’m going to miss her when I drive away today!), but that’s the beauty of these deep friendships. They don’t just fade away unless you give up on them. I’ve always thought that a roommate is a special kind of friend. It’s almost like having a twin sister – someone with whom you’re so close that you can express your thoughts with minimal words.

San Diego 2005? Here’s hoping!

I created a monster. And yes, I'm proud.

And I will pay no mind When it won’t, and it won’t, ’cause it can’t, It just can’t (It’s not supposed to).
–John Mayer

Maybe I’ll tangle in the power lines, And it might be over in a second’s time

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

The older I get, the more I understand all the hype about Friends. Though I’m still a bit younger, I’m now in close to the same place in life that the Friends were when the series began. I’m a couple of years out of college and I’m seeking direction for my career. My idea of a good time is conversation over a cup of coffee. And, much like the Friends, a close friend is like a family member to me.

Some critics have argued that the show’s title is a misnomer. True friends don’t kiss one another’s girlfriends. They don’t date, break up, date, break up, get married, divorce, kiss, get pregnant, date…. People are certainly entitled to their opinions. I know it would hinder my relationships if my closest friends were in these situations. But it’s interesting to note that their friendships endure those trials. In that way, they’re a lot like family. No matter what comes between family members, they still share those genetic bonds (like it or not).

That was part of the concept for the show, according to its creators. They wanted to make something that reflected their experiences in their 20s – a time, they said, when your friends are your family.

I can relate to that. Though I’ve always had family within a few hundred miles, it’s been a blessing to take comfort in the friendship of those who were standing beside me. Unfortunately, those friends become more geographically distant as I age.

There, I can understand why reviewers were so quick to accuse the show’s fans of wanting to be these characters. Different as we are in many ways, they have something I want: stability.

Have you noticed that neither Monica nor Joey* move during the show’s entire ten year run? Sure, the others play a game of musical apartments, but that sense of sameness is maintained by the occupation of apartments 19 and 20.

I’m tired of moving. I don’t like that my closest friends are scattered across the country. I would give so much for a purple apartment and a local coffee shop in which to maintain those ties.

*except when they traded apartments after the bet, which never should’ve happened anyway. Who bets an APARTMENT? And yes, I do realize that it was Monica’s fault.