Encouragement - Stories
Funny Girl
by Jane Johnson Struck
Chonda Pierce is center stage, and 14,000 women are loving it. This slender, blonde-haired dynamo with the Carolina twang starts singing her take-off on the Enjoli perfume jingle: “I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan—but why should I bother when Domino’s can? I’m a woman—w-o-m-a-n.” Women roar. As her sassy, good-natured stand-up routine unfolds—with perfect comic timing—women laugh so hard tears spring to their eyes. Then Chonda segues to the tragedies that have shaped her perspective on life, and tears of a different sort flow.
It’s astonishing anyone with a story like Chonda’s would feel like laughing, much less help others laugh. Yet this spunky Christian comedian is equally at home performing at corporate events, the Grand Ole Opry, or women’s conferences. Chonda readily admits she’s “living proof” that God works all things out for good. “There’s definitely healing in laughter, but I didn’t think that up,” says Chonda.
Chonda would know. She grew up a Southern preacher’s kid with elder siblings Michael, Charlotta, and baby sister Cheralyn. Being part of the ministry gave Chonda an insider’s peek at church members’ struggles. But her own family’s secrets were kept under wraps as her father battled manic-depression and her mother, Virginia, diligently maintained the semblance of a normal, happy family.Then tragedy struck.
When Chonda was sixteen, twenty-year-old Charlotta was killed instantly in a head-on collision on a rainy highway. Soon after, Chonda’s father abandoned the ministry, packed his suitcase, and left his wife and kids. Not long after, Chonda, her mom, and fifteen-year-old Cheralyn attempted to put their lives back together (Michael had married and moved away). Cheralyn was diagnosed with leukemia and died a month later. In a matter of twenty-two months, a family of six was reduced to a family of two.
It was then that Chonda’s comedic streak—evident since childhood—took an unhealthy turn. Humor became her mask, her way of escaping pain and the God she’d given her life to as a child. Tears spring to Chonda’s eyes whenever she tells her story—especially as she talks about the woman who never gave up on her, who prayed her through the tough years. Chonda’s love and respect for her mother are undeniable. She talks movingly about her childhood, loss and forgiveness, and the influence her mother’s faith has had on her.
When did you first learn your dad was manic-depressive?
Chonda: I think I was about fourteen when I first heard the words manic-depression. When my father took his medication or worked with a counselor, he’d be okay. But then something euphoric would happen and he’d think, I’m feeling so good, I don’t think I need to take this stuff anymore. That’s when the mood swings would kick in.
What happened when he was off medication?
Chonda: My father would become emotionally and verbally abusive to family members. But he was more abusive, I think, to himself. For example, he had a gun, and many nights he’d kiss us good-night and tell us this was the night he was going to put himself out of his misery so we could all be happy.
I can’t imagine the terror of living with that.
Chonda: I remember getting off a school bus and wondering what it was going to be like when I got home. Either Dad would be in a great mood and we’d all go fishing, or he’d be a basket case. If only we’d fully understood it was a physical problem. But we fell into the trap of thinking it was spiritual. Sometimes it’s nothing more than a physical need, the same as if your body needs insulin.
How did this affect your family?
Chonda: My mother played the role of the perfect pastor’s wife, mother, and homemaker. She realized she couldn’t fix things, so she worked overtime to make sure our eyes remained on Jesus, not Dad, not nosy church ladies, not even on her—just Jesus.
One of the ways I coped with Dad’s problems was by being the jester. I felt that if I could only get Dad to laugh, or goof off, or get his mind off it, maybe I could fix him. When Charlotta died, my humor started becoming confused, muddled.
You mean sarcastic?
Chonda: Oh, man, I became the queen of that.
I remember standing across from Cheralyn’s grave at the burial, looking at my mother, and saying, “We’re dropping like flies!” That was my way of dealing with it. But Mother knew I laughed the hardest when I hurt the most.
I remember the first Christmas we didn’t have Cheralyn, it was my mother and me --and seeing my stocking hanging there all by itself. This is the pits, I thought. Things couldn’t be any worse. But, of course my mother said, “I think it’s the prettiest stocking in the world!” That’s my mother—determined to celebrate life, not concentrate on death. She reminded me I was still alive.
You seem to have had every reason to say, “Hey, God, what gives? Here we are serving you, and this is how you treat us?”
Chonda: Well, let’s be realistic. I probably said that once or twice!
What kept you from totally giving up on God?
Chonda: I have to admit, I’ve thought, I have every excuse. But I grew up knowing about the Lord. Even in all bad times, there was still that little foundation, that little piece of light. And you can’t get away from it. I know; I tried.
However, I always knew my mother was praying for me, and it would drive me nuts! I remember one late night after a party when I was riding down the road singing songs as I drove along. And all I could think of were songs like “Amazing Grace.” It made me so mad!
You see, you can’t drown that stuff out. And that’s what I tell parents: Your kids may stray, but they can’t get away from what they pick up around your dinner table or family devotions or church services. And that’s one of the sweetest promises in God’s Word.
Do you keep in touch with your father?
Chonda: No … but that’s okay, really. When my father divorced my mother, I never heard much from his side of the family ever again. That bothered me for a long time. I’m the first to admit I certainly didn’t handle my anger and frustration very well. I was an eighteen-year-old loud-mouthed, smart-aleck kid—and I let everybody know it. So whatever relationship we tried to have, I did my share of making it difficult.
But did your father ever say anything such as, “I’m sorry for what I did …”?
Chonda: Never. I finally got over waiting for that. Forgiving and moving on—without all the loose ends tied up in a neat bow—are possible only through the power of the Holy Spirit. And I don’t know how people do it without some professional Christian counseling.
What I choose not to do is sit and nitpick over the bad things; I’ve chosen to—and it is a choice—remember how my dad could fix anything, how smart he was. He was personable; people loved him. Remembering the crummy stuff isn’t going to do anybody any good.
Forgiveness is a process; it doesn’t happen overnight. I don’t know how I’d feel if I stepped onstage and saw my daddy’s face. But I believe I’d just have to stop what I was doing and go hug him. Listen, I can honor him and praise his good qualities—even when there’s no word from him.
Your mother’s had a tremendous influence on you.
Chonda: We both love people wholeheartedly. I’m so glad to have gotten that from her, because experiencing a loved one’s death tends to make you guarded. But I’ve never seen that in my mother. She comes out of a painful situation and dives right back into life. While we may not be alike in our clothing tastes or cooking styles, we’re very much alike on an emotional and spiritual level.
As my children have grown and my love for them has deepened, I’ve developed more full-blown gratitude and admiration for my mother. I’ve realized the sacrifices she made for me.So the petty things about her - that used to dirve me nuts - mean absolutely nothing. I cannot remember a day my mother didn't tell me she loved me - even when I was a teenager and mad and wanting to borrow the car. The confidence that gives a kid! I'm terrified of the day I'll lose her. I try not to think about it. Instead, I prepare my heart.
Reprinted from Today’s Christian Woman (November/December 1998), published by Christianity Today International, Carol Stream, Illinois.
Armed with an abundance of unpretentious Southern charm and laser sharp wit, Chonda Pierce has been entertaining audiences from coast to coast for more than a decade. An in demand stand up comic, television hostess and best-selling author, Pierce has parlayed her gift for storytelling into a multi-faceted career. Pierce has authored six books and has ranked among Pollstar’s top-selling live performers. To learn more about Chonda's continuing ministry visit www.chonda.org
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