The "F" Word and a Can of Worms

I am probably going to make some people very angry with this post, but I'm okay with it. That being said, let's talk about feminism, shall we?

Feminism can mean a wide variety of things to a wide variety of people. To some, it means equal wages and equal rights as citizens; to others, it means fighting against our established social structure to break down the patriarchy; and to others, it means arguing for feminine existence separate from the influence of men entirely. This makes it understandably difficult to have a conversation about feminism because there is no set definition. It also means that conservatively-minded women may be loathe to refer to themselves as feminists in order to avoid being lumped in with the extremist viewpoints oft associated with the term.

I have no problem calling myself a feminist, but I prefer to preface it with the modifier “conservative.” I believe that if a woman performs the exact same job functions as a man, in the same location and economy, with the same precision and efficiency, she deserves the same pay. I believe that women are entitled to the same inalienable rights as citizens of their respective countries as their male counterparts. I am also passionate about a woman's right to freedom from sexual harassment and abuse, whether in the workplace, on the street, or in their own homes.

However, I do not adhere to the following “feminist” viewpoints:

• I am not a separatist. I do not believe that the only way to achieve total feminine freedom is by rejecting the patriarchy and the entire male gender.
• I do not believe that pornography or prostitution are empowering when the choice is made freely rather than by necessity; I think that both industries are enslaving and demoralizing by their very nature.
• I do not believe that men and women are essentially the same; while we are both human and share many biological features, we are quite different in the way our minds and bodies are wired. (Oh, and I believe we were designed that way; I don't believe it was some cosmic happenstance.)

Then, of course, there are the sticky issues that I would like to clarify before saying with any finality whether I am for or against. For example, reproductive rights. Of course women should have the same amount of say (if not more) in whether to pursue having children as their partners, and they should have the same access to contraceptives like birth control pills or condoms. However, an overwhelmingly popular point of argument with modern feminism is the right to choose abortion, which I am passionately opposed to. The pursuit of reproductive rights only goes to the point where it doesn't impinge on the rights of someone else, specifically an unborn child. Go ahead and hate, but this is a stance I will not budge on.

I could talk about some of the more offensive thoughts I have on female gender identity, such as outward appearance and stereotypical femininity, but for now I'll leave those to rest. Besides, many of those opinions are constantly evolving, so I'll let discretion be the better part of valor.

I'd be interested to hear any thoughts my (few) readers have on this topic, but I would ask that you keep any posts to a kind tone that promotes open conversation (rather than anger and/or swearing).

Anyway, have a wonderful weekend, and God bless. 

Ardilla de Ecuador

Yesterday, my family and I said goodbye to a wonderful young woman, Gaby. She came to us in August of 2011 as an exchange student, not knowing who she would be staying with or what God would do with that school year. We were incredibly blessed to get to know her, and she is as much a sister to me now as my own flesh and blood. I know this will fade with time, but every time I think about her departure, I get a little teary-eyed. It's not easy to entrust family to an airplane and another country, even if it is the place she grew up. She is seriously considering coming back to the States in the fall for college, and she's even been accepted to my alma mater. Mom and Dad have offered to let her stay with them throughout her university career if she returns, and money is starting to come in from various places. I pray that God continues to open doors for her and makes His will evident... and, selfishly, I hope that His plans for her involve a return into our homes and our lives.

When I feel particularly emotional, whether it's positive or negative, I write music and poetry (the line is often blurred for me). This one is for you, Gaby - if my Spanish is terrible, lo siento. :)

Ardilla de Ecuador

A summer spent anxious, so incierto

To see what future God would deliver

Blindly she stepped into el aeropuerto

And yet, she trusted that He would be with her

She fell into our lives with love and abandon

A passionate learner and iniciador

Risk taker, thrill seeker, lover and fighter

Our little ardilla de Ecuador

Baila, baila, hermana linda

Tu alegría se llena la sala
Bella luz tu sonrisa brinda

Nos vemos pronto, ojalá!

She came para vivencia y conocimiento

But also found a place en mi corazón

A year of happy divertimento

The girl with two families, the girl with two homes

But all good things must come to an end

So we hugged and cried and said our goodbyes

We watched tu avión as it rounded the bend

And prayed for seguridad up in the skies.

Baila, baila, hermana linda

Tu alegría se llena la sala
Bella luz tu sonrisa brinda

Nos vemos pronto, ojalá!

Que Dios los bendiga toda tu vida
Our prayers and hopes go with you still

Hasta la vista, amiga querida

We love you and we always will!

God-Given Talent

I stink at drawing.

I mean it, truly awful. My faces are cartoonish, my animals look like they're the unfortunate result of a bad genetic mutation, and my hands?

Beach balls with hot dogs attached.

But that's okay. I've come to terms with the fact that I will never create art like my husband can. With just a ballpoint pen and a napkin, he can create striking images with perspective, shading, and depth. His eyes are particularly beautiful, partially because he has been fascinated with them and drawing them since he was a kid.

I can, however, sing well. And play trumpet. And I pick up other instruments quickly – piano, guitar, other brass such as trombone and French horn. My loved ones have expressed admiration at these talents, which have only gotten better with four years of study at university. As a lyric soprano, I am particularly fluid and and airy, with a flute-like sound; sixteenth runs and Baroque music fit my voice type well.

It sounds braggish, but it's simply the truth. I take no credit for the musical gifts I possess, the same way my husband takes none for his artwork. We have both studied and worked to perfect these talents, but we started from God-given natural abilities. Coming from a family that places high value in music as worship, I believe that working to improve talent is an essential facet of praising the God that granted it.

Everyone knows the parable of the talents found in Matthew 25. While it was not necessarily the parable's intended lesson, I find the play on the word “talent” quite fitting. Those who have been given much are expected to invest wisely and produce much. If one is blessed with a level of ability beyond the norm, it should be honed and used to bring Him glory. Our God is intentional; nothing escapes His sight and nothing happens by accident. Therefore, in the areas where you naturally excel, focus on developing even greater excellence and using your gifts to honor Him. This can be in any area, not just the arts: maybe you cook, maybe you're a great organizer, maybe you teach. Allow your talents and passions to give clues into God's plan for your life.

I'm reminded of a story my grandfather told me. When he was head of the music department at my alma mater, a young man called him out of the blue and asked for an appointment. When the scheduled time came, the young man shook his hand and said, “Sir, I believe God is calling me to be an organ major.” My grandfather asked him three questions:
      “Do you play any organ?”

      “No, sir.”

      “Do you read music at all?”

      “Not a bit, sir.”

      “Have you any natural ability for music?”

      “Not really.”
      “Then God is not calling you to be an organ major.”

I know that there are exceptions to this; Moses was not a natural public speaker, but God spoke to him very clearly via the burning bush and gave him the words. In general, however, I believe that our natural abilities make wonderful guideposts for God's intended plan for our lives. This is reflected in Scripture in 1 Corinthians 12.

So, if you're great with kids, pray and seek God's plan for that gift in your life. Maybe you're meant to teach; maybe you're meant to be a parent; maybe you're meant to serve as a church children's activities director. I don't believe that someone who naturally relates well to children and feels at home working with them is meant for a life without children in it in some way. Like I said before, our God is intentional. Explore, discover your talents, and seek the Lord's will in what role they will play in your life. Because odds are, the God that gave them to you has plans to use them.

What a Nightmare

Remembering my dreams on a regular basis is a pretty new occurrence for me. When I was a teenager, I could go months without recalling even a moment of these nightly subconscious visions. Lately, though, it seems like at least once or twice a week I have a dream that sticks with me after I wake up. Sometimes they're pleasant, like the black-and-white one I had last week; the plot line evades me now, but it had something to do with dancing in the rain. More often than not, unfortunately, it's nightmares that interrupt my sleep and have me waking in a cold sweat.

For example, last night's dream involved me walking in on my husband with another woman. Specific words and actions are blurry, but I woke up weeping into my pillow and sick to my stomach. Of course I felt incredibly relieved when I discovered that none of it was real, but like all dreams do, it made me think. Nightmares like that draw my own insecurities and issues to the surface; sometimes I choose to pray over them and deal with them, and sometimes I squelch them back down because I'm not ready yet.

I have been less than confident in my own abilities to properly maintain a relationship in the past, and I think this dream shows that it's a more deeply seated fear than I thought. I love my husband, but I worry over whether he's satisfied with me as a wife. Logical Becca knows that he loves me deeply and would never do anything to intentionally hurt me; Insecure Becca sees only her faults and wonders why he would choose me over someone else. Someone better.

I try to come across as confident and positive, and I usually succeed by remembering that Christ loves me, even with all my emotional baggage. I've gotten a lot better at putting that thought at the forefront of my mind and letting it rule my decisions and reactions. Yet under the surface, buried so deep that only my subconscious really understands it, is a scared, anxious young woman with a lot of self-hatred. The star of my nightmares.

But the morning after, when I'm shaken and filled with doubt, one passage always helps me remember that, while unworthy, I am loved by my Creator. Offensive as I am, His arms are always open.

Psalm 139

You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down;
    you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue
    you, Lord, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before,
    and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
    too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens,you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God!
    How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them,
    they would outnumber the grains of sand—
    when I awake, I am still with you.

If only you, God, would slay the wicked!
    Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!
They speak of you with evil intent;
    your adversaries misuse your name.
Do I not hate those who hate you, Lord,
    and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?
I have nothing but hatred for them;
    I count them my enemies.
Search me, God, and know my heart;
    test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
    and lead me in the way everlasting.

Blessed and Refreshed

I was privileged this past weekend to spend four days with my family in Grand Haven, Michigan. Grand Haven is a beautiful place, with great access to the expected amenities without sacrificing on location. We stayed in my parents' fifth-wheel camper trailer in the state park, located right on the beach and adjacent to the boardwalk/pier. This pier boasts a traditional red lighthouse, and if you follow it back to where it meets the boardwalk, it will take you into the downtown heart of the city. Main Street is lined with fashion boutiques, craft and hobby stores, and mom-and-pop restaurants - and most places are even dog-friendly. It's the perfect location for walks on the pristine white-sand beach, bike rides, sun, surf, meditation, shopping; whatever your vacationing heart desires, it has.

It was a great opportunity to recover from a nasty head cold, to relax after months of balancing three part-time jobs, and to appreciate my family anew. My parents are some of the most supportive, giving people I have ever met. They understand the lack of money that my husband and I face, and they readily offered to take on the financial burden of bringing me with them. My husband was unable to go, sadly, but in a way, it turned out to be a good thing. He had free roam of the apartment for the weekend to have friends over and watch movies I hate, and I was blessed with four days away from the disaster zone that we live in (yeah, I need to clean).

It's not the first time that I've vacationed with my parents and siblings and left my husband behind. Since before we got married I have been the worrywart of our little family, and I stress out easily. My husband is not the same, praise Jesus. When money gets tight, he trusts that it will all come together; when things break, he fixes them or calls someone who knows how. He rarely feels the pressing need to escape and relax, while it hits me pretty strongly at least once a year. So, when opportunity rears its head, he kisses me and calmly waves goodbye as I head out to clear my head and reconnect with the Lord.

I always come back refreshed and ready to tackle life again, and my husband (bless his heart) is always more than ready for me to return. It's true what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder. Doing without his presence for just a few days makes me appreciate him and realign my priorities. *sigh* God has been so good to me in so many ways. I hope I never take for granted the generous spirits of my parents or the loving grace of my husband.