The problem with feminism

The problem with feminism
is that we are no longer
separate-but-equal rulers of our
separate-but-unequal spheres;
you are no longer the
undisputed Master of Monies,
but neither am I the
undisputed Queen of the Kitchen.

The problem with feminism
is that while I can be
totally self-righteous and justified
in asserting my right to have input into our
work life, financial life, sex life, spiritual life,
I also find it incredibly difficult
to relax my desperate iron grip
on my distaff domain
when you assert your right
to have input into our
Christmas card template.

The problem with feminism
is that it requires me to change, too.

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In which I keep crying…

I’ve been crying a lot more recently.

I never used to cry. I sort of hate it. I get all wobbly-mouthed and my throat seizes up and I can hardly speak. And then, my nose runs. Yuck.

I don’t know what has brought this change about, but more and more often I find myself tearing up at unexpected times. Like in the middle of a super logical sermon, after a not particularly emotional but rhetorically powerful statement. Or like when I re-read for the umpteenth time Walk Two Moons, a favorite book from childhood — even though I already knew what was going to happen.

Today I teared up bigtime — but this time I think I know why.

Today I had the privilege and honor of interviewing someone about his life story. I went to this man’s house, met him and his family, sat down at his kitchen table, and listened. And I was literally overwhelmed. With words that seemed to just spill out of him, for starters. Then by a tingly feeling of awe.

To make a long-ish story short, this man had previously been, as he put it, “Full of pride, and all about living for myself. I didn’t care about anything. And I did some bad stuff.” Then, he survived an accident and, as he also put it, “God was sending me a message.” He turned his life around. I could plainly see the fervor with which he talked about his love for his children, his devotion and respect for his wife. “Not every man would say this,” he said, “but even though I work hard, my wife works way harder than I do. 24/7. She is the pillar of our family, and I’m not afraid to say it. She has always been there for me, even when all my friends left me. She’s the reason I want to have a home for our family, because she deserves it.”

This, my friends, is a redemption story. When one who is selfish and lost (as we all are) can be so deeply transformed into selfless Christ-like-ness (as we all hope for). And this is why I tear up all the time. Because in the midst of the struggles and the bad stuff and the confusion and the brokenness and the pain — especially there — there is Jesus. And there is redemption. The kind of redemption that makes your heart squeeze and your eyes burn and your face flush because it just doesn’t make sense, but all the same it is so beautiful.

I don’t much like crying. But for this, for beautiful Jesus-redemption in the midst of the dry deserts of life, I will cry every time.

Wisdom from My “Timothys”

Wow. I have been feeling so blessed by the wisdom of my “mentees” (like I’m supposed to teach THEM things!) this week that I thought I’d share a few of their more profound gems with you all.

First, from my new-blogger-mentee:

Everyone needs a Paul, a Peter, and a Timothy — a mentor, a peer, and someone to mentor.

Gosh, isn’t that just so true? I am still rolling that one around in my mind. So much depth. I won’t say more, since I believe she’s going to blog about it soon herself. =)

And then from one of my high schoolers during our discussion about addiction today. You’ve probably heard either the Native story about the two wolves (if not, go read it here!) or at least the saying about “What you feed grows; what you starve dies.” Here’s what came up as we talked about that principle within our lives:

Student 1: I think sometimes I starve God, just because I am so busy feeding other things like homework or sports.

Student 2: I don’t think I’m starving God, but I’m not really feeding him a feast either.

RIGHT??? We don’t starve God completely — but sometimes we sure don’t feed him well. More like bread and water. Just enough to keep him alive.

Mmm. Deep and wise thoughts from some fantabulous Timothys — and these are just the soundbites! Who are the Timothys in your life? What have you been learning from them lately?