Feminism: The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

I know that a lot of us don't even want to read anything these days that rubs against what we already believe. We've lost the emotional energy. So I want to be straightforward about this: I am a moderate, thirty-something woman. Politically, I don't really open my mouth lately because I don't want to get my head bitten off. We are in a climate of extreme polarization, and I like to like things about people and political parties, and dislike other things. I bet a lot of you are the same. And it is a no-man's land for kind-hearted people who want to have real discussion. But here we are all trying to survive this climate the best we can. And hold true to what matters to us most. Hello, fellow sojourner! Can we have a discussion about feminism here today? About the good, the bad and the ugly? Where we are as a culture and where I hope we will go? Let's dive in, my kind-hearted friend. And let's start with all things good here.

THE GOOD

• We feel heard. As women right now our voice has been given a platform. We are being heard. And not just heard, but listened to. Thank you. And I don't mean that lightly. Thank you to those who are sincerely leaning in and listening to the different and collective voices that are speaking about sexism, and our unique experiences being women.

• We are United. As women we are probably more united than we have ever been as a gender. In large ways- reading books like Half The Sky, that touch our hearts and mobilize women of power and privilege to reach their arms out through humanitarian efforts to those who are not so privileged. Yes, yes, yes. We are hearing each other and reaching out for each other in dark places and in ways that have not been done before. Yes, my dear sisters. And in small ways too, as we post blogs and speak kind words to encourage one another to pursue our dreams, to build strong bodies, to take care of ourselves. We are loving and lifting each other up in ways that have not been done before. And it is wonderful.

• Opportunities are wide open. It almost feels as if a door is being held wide open for us as a gender- and we just have to run through it. Of course, creating longterm success for anybody (any gender, any race) is a challenge. But somehow it all feels very doable right now. It feels like we really CAN create our dream life if we are willing to work hard for it. And work we will.

THE BAD

• The Force. No, not the Star Wars force. I'm talking about people and groups forcing their version of feminism forward. Putting the cause above the human being. Voices screaming above other voices, and making certain women uncomfortable with who they've decided to be and how they've chosen to live. Feminism should not be one-size-fits-all. That is counterproductive. I am a very strong woman- an introverted, deep thinker who feels confident in my choices. But the fact that I am a stay-at-home mom (and a Christian one at that), immediately puts me in a category, in some peoples' eyes, that is anti-feminist. How sad. I am very much in favor of equality and women's rights. But what are those rights if they are not on our own terms? Does the fact that I am a stay-at-home mom who choses to support my husband in his career and nurture my family in this season of life, take away from my strength, value or equality as a woman? I hope you would say no. It is my choice after all. But I do sense that my choices are off-putting to certain people in my life. The underlying "force" of feminism should seek to broaden the ground on which we occupy. Not push or pressure women off of the ground they desire to occupy. I wish that the larger feminist movement could find room to not only champion women for finding success in roles that are traditionally male- but also women who are strong in tenderness, compassion, meekness and caregiving. To encourage women to be truer versions of themselves, not just one particular brand of "strong".

• Reverse Sexism. Just today as I was driving through a small college town in VT, I saw a baby onsie in a boutique window that read: "The Future Is Female." I've seen this slogan before, and every time it causes a small twinge in my stomach. I have three sons and I sure hope they have a great future in this country as well. Permission to be themselves as well. And I believe they will, that is not what the "twinge" is about. It is just that if equality, not domination, is the goal, why are we willing to accept superiority from one side and not the other? There is a commercial I saw recently where a woman was throwing all of her boyfriend's belongings out onto the sidewalk, where he stood helplessly watching them smash and break against the concrete. It was clearly a rough breakup. But the commercial ended on a satisfied tone, with the female sitting down to watch TV, clearly feeling free, empowered and in control. Lovely. Except that you don't break peoples' stuff. And I couldn't help but wonder what the response to this commercial would be had the roles been reversed. Can you picture this commercial glorifying the strength of a male throwing all of his girlfriend's belongings onto the ground as she stood helplessly by? Such a commercial would never make it to the air, because the idea is just too appalling. We are in a culture that abhors male domination, but is giving the green light to female domination (maybe just in the name of good fun). But it's counter-productive to equality. And the interesting irony is that baby onesies and commercials like these, if they are not seriously implying female superiority, are meant only to be "cutesy", actually implying feminine weakness. And it's a step backward in my opinion, from where we should be heading.

• A Forced Narrative. This point might get a little "heady" for a light read on a random blog- but it fuses together and really drives home the first two points. We all have our own opinions and thoughts. In this great country we get to express those opinions and thoughts because we have freedom of speech. Everyone is not so lucky. You can say what you feel to your best friend or your whole social network. But what starts happening when people are verbally bullied for having different thoughts or opinions? A cultural narrative starts forming that dare not be challenged. It's happened in times past, and is happening right here and right now. I realize that I'm walking on a thin tight rope over murky water where political views and anger lurk like crocodiles. And I'm certainly not someone who likes to get bit. But come on people! We have all become too weak-minded, and willing to just follow, when it comes to issues that have become "political". So in that same, tired spirit- here is a quote that I just love from a show that I really enjoyed called The West Wing. This was back in the 90's when there was more intellectual discussion and less bandwagoning. (Or at least that snarky, quick-witted, 90's gold!) When asked how she could possibly appose the ERA (Equal Rights Amendment), Ainsley Hayes replies:

"Because it's humiliating. A new amendment we vote on declaring that I am equal under the law to a man, I am mortified to discover there's reason to believe I wasn't before. I am a citizen of this country, I am not a special subset in need of your protection. I do not have to have my rights handed down to me by a bunch of old, white, men. The same Article 14 that protects you, protects me, and I went to law school just to make sure."

Thank you and yes!! Sometimes the forced narrative of feminism feels humiliating to me as a woman. I don't need to be told that I'm strong or equal to men, or have the same opportunities, because I am, and I do, and I've never believed otherwise. I know that many women cannot say the same, but the point of this point, is this: be aware of the narratives that some groups are trying to force onto you. The whole point of feminism is suppose to be for the woman- us. But for many groups it has become an agenda.  

THE UGLY

• Body Slamming. Some things are just downright ugly. Things people say or put together behind their screens and put out into the world anonymously, can just be treacherous. I saw a picture of Michelle Obama walking with two slender, fancily- dressed foreign dignitaries, and the caption read: "It's like two ferraris and a dump truck." I don't care who you are or what you think about Michelle Obama, this crude depiction should not have made it past the second or third poster. And the fact that it did is sad. And these mean-spirited posts exist all over the internet, often aimed at political figures, poking fun at their looks or bodies. We should be better than this low level of character. Body slamming is just plain ugly.

• Name Calling. Don't get me started here. It seems like nothing is easier these days than name calling. Rather than hearing someone out on why they believe what they believe, it is easier to just stuff people into categories. Liberal, conservative, hippie, democrat, republican- and alllll of the fun adjectives we like to throw in for good fun. We are tearing up and eating each other alive. And we're all hurting. The ugliest thing on all sides of the feminist movement is when good care and character go out the window in the name of passion. When anger and rashness are unleashed, while reason and kindness are pushed to the back. We can all be guilty of this- but if you find yourself swearing in front of young ears, throwing harsh words around carelessly, or saying things out of anger to friends and family- it's time to step back and gain some perspective, because your efforts have likely become counter-productive.

• Abortion. I can't skip this. It's an area that is so controversial and central to the issue of feminism. And I believe that it needs to be brought back into conversations, and spoken about with reason. Women's bodies cary babies- it is part of how we're made. Pregnancy and birth are rights of passage for mother and baby. I wish as a culture we would have more of a compassionate heart toward these babies, as much as we claim to for their mothers. We all started out this way: small and in our mother's womb. We were each nurtured tenderly by a woman and that is why we're here and able to discuss these things. This is an essential part of life. Mahatma Gandhi said, "The true measure of any society is how it treats it's most vulnerable members." This should make us check our pulse for why we really care about feminism. Do we really care about people? Or do we care about being known ourselves for being passionate about issues, that make us look like we care about people?

I want to end this article by expressing gratefulness for all of the women who stood up in generations past, and spoke up loudly about gender inequality. I am so grateful to be born into a time of freedom like never before, in this great nation. In a very real way I feel like the world is at my fingertips and there is an ember of excitement and hope that burns inside of me for my own future. As I write those words I am not naive to the fact that many are not so fortunate. How can I help them? What are my unique gifts, talents and passions? And where can they fuse together with my desire to help others? Of course, I have all kinds of ideas! And what a blessing and honor to get to pursue those dreams. I will, like many of you will, move forward with gratefulness and  awareness. With eyes and ears open to see and hear the voices around me- with all of their own uniques passions and desires.

Ohh, humility

I wanted to have something to write about. Something revolutionary for women. I wanted to stand on a stage and be cute and fun, and have every woman in the audience want to be like me- and then I would blow their minds and lead them to Jesus.

I was heading on about 5 years of seriously struggling with various aspects of my life- fear, happiness, emotional stability. Have you ever been at a point in your life where nothing is monumentally wrong- the kids are healthy, praise God- but just the everyday flux of life, and the relationships that you just want to be awesome in the worst way, they are just not working because there's not peace and stability of the mind? Have you been there? The place where something is just off?

I can't find happiness that sticks. I puddle jump to more moments of discontentment, with bouts of praise and gratefulness and real rest in Jesus in between (thank God). But I keep finding myself... back...here.

Then at some point I realize that all in all something beautiful has formed in the ground of all of this failing, dead soil. A little flower called humility has begun to spring up, and brighten, and deepen in color as my struggle continues.

I find that I understand many of the women I have judged. The women I use to want to grab by the shoulders and tell them to get their life together. The women I thought that my cute outfits and perky preaching from the stage could reach and change.

I understand the depression and depths, because I have swam and struggled down there too. And I've tried to kick myself to the surface only to find my foot stuck in the mud. I've been there and wrestled in the darkness of it all too. 

I've had four children and walked into stores with one of them barefoot in the cart because the shoes were left at home. And one has boogers and messy hair, and the other one screams, and I haven't washed my own hair in three days, and I am PRAYING I don't see anyone I know. And this is just life, and I never wanted to be that mom. And I've felt my face flush when I see someone from high school and in my early 30's tell them that we've moved back in with my Dad.

And a thousand other little deaths and surrenders. Oh, you can fight and push and demand your way. Or you can do the surrendering to God. (The over and over surrender on certain things). And watch God till and work that surrendered soil into a rich and fertile little garden bed. And a beautiful, colorful, diverse little garden called humility will grow.

And you better believe that he is still growing mine.

Galatians 6:9  

The Altar

It happened today. One of those Sundays where you are going about your business, your day, your Sunday routine- sitting in the church pew listening and nodding- not expecting anything for me. Then it started to hit me. The tears welled up hot in my eyes and somehow I knew what was coming next, Was. For. Me. Not only me- but like listen up, girl, I am about to speak to you right from my word. I was laser-focused in as my pastor read the words of Psalm 73, and they washed over me and made sense of my feelings, and my mess.

As humans, we don't have the capacity or the mental ability to order and make sense of all of our feelings and latest struggles. And as moms, sometimes our brains just feel like mush at the end of the day. But lately I've had a very specific struggle with Instagram,  something I've never used, and something that has been making me feel A LOT of mixed feelings. I'm not going to go into the details, but I have a feeling I don't have to because you probably feel a lot of the same feelings too: jealousy, envy, righteous indignation and personal indignation. And then the question of "why" is always next in line. Why am I feeling this? Why is she posting like this? Why can't I....

Oh, but this day. This beautiful, beautiful, cold and snowy Sunday when God reminded me, in a heart way, not in a head way that I can explain; He reminded me of just... it all. And it felt peaceful and right there on my knees, crying it out in this small, imperfect church. Thank you, Jesus.

I don't usually want to go at first. Every altar experience I've ever had, my first inclination is, "oh please, not now." These boogers, these tears, this makeup smearing, this walk, the looking and watching, the unknown, the "will I have to try to explain this to someone?"

But oh, I had to go today. I knew I was being lead and pulled. God still loves me and still wants me to start over after all of this slighting I've done to him.

I have to confess it right here that I've wanted so much for myself that is worldly, and popular, and successful and smart. I wanted to be that woman. And I took my gift, again, the one that he's blessed me and opened a door for- and I put it up on the altar of my life where only he should be. I pretended that I was just a little busy and would turn back around and look at him as soon as I had time. Telling him, "I'll be right back", as I secretly bow down to my idol. 

That was probably what was basically happening in my spirit- although I do KNOW him to be true and right and God and Lord, and all things good. And isn't it funny that it's not in the knowing? We can know that He's God and serve a dozen idols or one precious sin that we can't square up with God eye-to-eye on. So we look down or away and pretend not to notice because, WE JUST DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH IT RIGHT NOW.

But meanwhile we are dying, a slow suffocation, not having the father's spirit breathe life into us. Not allowing him to do the CPR. Why in the world?

And today, he spoke those Psalm 73 words to me so crystal clearly and made sure they went in. Air. And he's still making sure that I know that it's HIM who is saving me, and not myself. 

Thank you, Jesus, for bringing me to the altar today. Thank you for newness and a fresh start. For cleaning out the clutter and garbage of my spirit, and setting my gaze back upon one, simple, remarkable truth. You.

PSALM 73

"Oh come to the altar, the father's arms are open wide. Forgiveness was bought with, the precious blood of Jesus Christ."

Relief in Submission

I was just feeling so angry over social media... again. I went on for just a few minutes, the first time in a while. Flitted around. Left feeling more hollow, more angry, more wanting to say MY piece than before. More confused and scattered and these emotions- this devastation for the plight of things, the division. Everyone sticking their finger in the air and shouting their opinion. The leadership- the people that many people are following, flaunting their own feelings and opinions about Christianity, and the President, and the latest disaster, and I can't stomach all of this narcissism. I feel angry and sick all in one stroke. I feel a part of it, wanting to get in the middle and push and shove my weight around as well. But more than that I want to flee. I want to run away from it all and go bury my head under a blanket somewhere. Stay just with Jesus. But, Lord, will I be a naive little chicken in a land of wolves? Shouldn't I know what is going on here? Shouldn't I be on the pulse too? Isn't this relevence?

No.

And at the peak of confusion and trying to pray, mind and heart still spinning out, it hits me. Submission. This is the answer. Submission to Christ. The place where I can rest and be the student and look at the one true teacher. Submission to him. I will orient my gaze, my heart, my all to the one true righteous, holy and GOOD. The only one. It's so simple. But in submission I can rest. In submission I can not have answers and it is okay. Submission immediately removes me and all of the others from the center and the need to perform because people are watching. I can sit and watch him instead. I don't have to be the one. He is the ONE. 

Jesus, help me to make much of YOU, in a world that is making much of everything else, everyone else, and themselves. Y-o-u. 

Phil 2:3

James 3: 14-15