Bad Girls of the Bible Part 1
Bad Girls of the Bible.
Higgs, Liz Curtis.
And What We Can Learn From Them.
ALWAYS AND FOREVER,.
to my brilliant husband, Bill Higgs, Ph.D.-.
who read every word (and changed several!), who held my trembling hand through
the entire project, and who has extended
more grace to this former Bad Girl
than she ever imagined possible.
I love you with all my heart.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
Heartfelt hugs to the following Good Girls who caught the vision for Bad Girls of the Bible from day one, read every chapter as it slithered out of their fax machines, and offered much-needed encouragement, loving guidance, and prayerful support...
Rebecca Price, WaterBrook Wonder Woman.
Sara Fortenberry, Amazing Literary Agent.
Carol Bartley and Laura Barker, Editorial Empresses.
Lois Luckett, MSW, LCSW, Therapeutic Princess Lisa Tawn Bergren, Stellar Storyteller.
Cynde Pett.i.t, Queen of the Questions.
and especially Diane n.o.ble-my soul sister, e-mail encourager, best friend in fiction, and virtual midwife for this baby. I love and appreciate you more than 256 pages can say!
Many thanks to those friends involved in women's ministry who read early chapters and gave me valuable feedback, wise direction, and a reason to keep writing...
Judy Russell.
Rosanne Russell.
Doris "Kentucky Mom" Foster.
And to ten wonderful booksellers from the ten cities where our modern Bad Girls reside, bless you for reading the fictional portions and providing input and enthusiasm...
Joni Merchant, Family Christian Stores, Savannah, Georgia Joyce Gronde, Light & Life Bookshop, Indianapolis, Indiana Sandy Rowe, The Mustard Seed, Ellensburg, Washington Brian Ehline and Angela Anthony, Christian Supply, Portland, Oregon Sue Goodman, Family Book Center, Dallas, Texas Linda Lewis and Rianne Rome, Family Christian Stores, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Margaret Lee, Harvest Bookstore, San Francisco, California Demetra Osirio, Baptist Book Store, New Orleans, Louisiana Sue Cleveland, Mardel Books, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma YoLonda Rivers, Family Christian Stores, Charleston, South Carolina ...One and all, you are the best!
Finally, I pray our collective efforts will bless you, dear reader, as you've certainly blessed me by choosing this book.
INTRODUCTION.
TURN SIGNAL.
And when she was good.
She was very, very good, But when she was bad she was horrid.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.
Ruthie never saw it coming. His fist flashed toward her so fast she couldn't duck or turn away in time.
"Nooo!" Her cry echoed off the windshield of the Pontiac but went no further. Who would hear her in this parking lot anyway? With trash cans and alley cats for neighbors, she could hardly expect some hero in a white Ford Mustang to drive by and rescue her, not at this late hour.
Hayden was leaning inside the open car window now, rubbing his knuckles as if to say, "There's more where that came from." As if she hadn't figured that out. As if she wasn't watching his every move.
Ruthie was nineteen, but she was n.o.body's fool.
Except Hayden's.
She stared at the dashboard, feeling her cheek swell as the pain inched around her eye, along her nose, toward her temple. In her whole life no one had ever deliberately hit her. Even as a child, she hadn't been spanked at home or paddled in school.
She was a good girl. National Honor Society. State chorus. Editor in chief of her small-town high-school newspaper.
n.o.body ever needed to hit Ruthie, for any reason.
So much for that claim to fame. She'd been hit now, and hard. Slowly, hoping Hayden wouldn't notice, she moved her jaw back and forth, grateful it could move.
He snorted, obviously disgusted with her. "I didn't break anything. But I could have. Now slide over or get out."
Not much choice there.
The time for making choices was behind her-that was clear. Weeks ago she'd chosen to spend that Thursday night at the Village Nightclub, knowing the kind of men who went there. And the kind of women. Women like me. She'd chosen to drag Hayden home with her because he was the right size and the right age and in the right state of mind: drunk. Too drunk to care whether or not she had a pretty face.
Her face wasn't pretty now, of that Ruthie was certain.
And her choices were nil. If she got out of the car, he might hit her again. If she stayed in the car, he might drive like a maniac and wrap her new Pontiac around a telephone pole, with them in it.
Her new car. The one he routinely borrowed without asking. The one they'd been arguing about, right up until he parked his fist in her face.
She moved across the seat toward the pa.s.senger side, sliding her keys out of the ignition as she did so, feeling her head begin to throb. Don't let me pa.s.s out! Please...Somebody. Anybody. Resting her hand on the door handle, then carefully wrapping her fingers around it, she waited for her chance. As Hayden moved into the driver's seat and dug in his pockets for his keys, she took a deep breath, then shoved the door open, nearly falling out on the gravel-strewn pavement.
"Get in the car, Ruthie!" Hayden's bark was deadly.
She felt him grab for her and miss. "He-e-elp..." It was such a pitiful cry, like a kitten needing milk. Straightening awkwardly to her feet, Ruthie slammed the car door just as Hayden reached for her again. Judging by his curses, she'd unintentionally jammed his fingers in the process.
Maybe not so unintentionally.
She had one goal now: to locate her apartment key among the dozen on the ring she held in her trembling hands. Stumbling toward her security door as she heard the car door open, she found the key at last and forced it in the lock. C'mon, c'mon!
When the deadbolt turned, she fell through the entrance with a sob of relief, then turned to bolt the door behind her. But she was too late. He'd already wedged his leg in the doorway and was muscling his way inside. Her heart sank through the linoleum floor, and the taste of dread filled her mouth.
Hayden was taller, wider, older, stronger. And meaner, so much meaner. Why hadn't she seen that? Tasted it in his kisses that first night, discovered it in his eyes that first morning?
His hatred for her was a living thing, rolling off him in waves.
"Don't you understand?" His chest was heaving, but not from the effort-from the anger. "That Pontiac is mine. You're mine. This apartment is mine. Nothing you do or say is gonna change that, Ruthie." With one hand he slammed the door with a noisy bang.
With the other hand he reached in his jacket and pulled out a gun.
Her heart thudded to a stop at the sight of it.
His cold smile told her all she needed to know.
"Upstairs." He waved the ugly black revolver at the staircase that led to her second-floor apartment. Her apartment. Hers! She'd scrimped and saved to have her own place. For what? So this...this...
It was no use. She started up the steps, doing her best not to trip, not to cry, not to let him see that he was tearing apart everything that made her Ruthie, step by awful step...
Define Bad ...
Poor Ruthie.
Few of us made it our ambition in life to be a Bad Girl.
Still, for some of us, one day we looked in the mirror, and there she was.
Maybe we stumbled through a rebellious youth or wandered into an addictive habit or walked down the aisle with the wrong guy for all the wrong reasons. Perhaps our sense of self was so skewed we decided we weren't worthy of goodness or figured we'd gone too far to ever find the road home or concluded we enjoyed our favorite vice so much we weren't about to give it up-no way, no how.
There are some women who even wear badness like a badge of courage. As Tallulah Bankhead put it, "If I had to live my life over again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner."
What labels a woman as "bad" hasn't changed since Eve. All the usual suspects are there: disobedience, l.u.s.t, denial, greed, anger, lying, adultery, laziness, cruelty, selfishness, idolatry.
Badness-in other words, sin-doesn't have to be that dramatic. It can be something on the sidelines: an unkind word, a whisper of gossip, a neglected request, an unrepentant att.i.tude, an intentionally forgotten event.
Ouch.
It all boils down to a heart that's hardened against G.o.d-however temporary the condition, however isolated the tough spot.
To that extent, we've all been Bad Girls.
And to a woman, we long to be Good Girls.
I have trouble learning, though, from women who get it all right. I spend my energy comparing, falling short, and asking myself, How do they do that? It's discouraging, even maddening. It also doesn't get me one step closer to G.o.d.
So, for a season, I thought we'd look at women who got a lot wrong. I must admit I went into these stories with a bit of pride between my teeth and soon found my jaw hanging slack at the similarities in these women and me.
How is it possible, Lord? I love you, love your Word, love your people... How can I see so much of myself in these sleazy women?
Ah, sisters. Our sins may be a surprise to us, but they are no surprise to the Lord.
For a man's ways are in full view of the LORD, and he examines all his paths. Proverbs 5:21 Come, then, and meet our counterparts-for good and for bad.
My introduction to these ten Bad Girls of the Bible began a decade ago when I prepared a series of messages about famous women in Scripture for a national Christian convention here in Louisville. For a girl who loves to have fun, I found it the "meatiest" stuff I'd ever tackled. I savored every juicy minute of time spent studying the Bible and reading various commentaries. Not to mention examining my own life in juxtaposition with theirs.
Oops. Big mistake there.
Sarah was so faithful. Esther was so courageous. Mary was so innocent. I was so none-of-the-above.
Then I happened upon Jezebel, and something inside me clicked. I identified with her pushy personality, I understood her need for control, I empathized with her angry outbursts...and I was aghast when I got to her gruesome ending.
She was a Bad Girl, all right, but boy did she teach me what not to do in my marriage! It was then the seeds for this book were planted in my heart. These stories are in G.o.d's Word for his good purpose-and for ours.