Will write for food

Sometimes your bristles are up for a length of time. I'm less sensitive to it now because I've worked through my feelings after hearing so many attacks on how I use my time.

One of the most offensive experiences happened in front of a room full of strangers. I enrolled in a writing class because I wanted to hone my talents for observation. Besides, being in the same room with a bunch of creative people gets the juices flowing. However – this class was not what I'd hoped for, nor was the teacher gracious or encouraging.

In the first class, each person answered a few ice-breaker questions and talked about what they were interested in. I took the plunge, because I got some 'spiritual' vibes from the teacher, and stated my Faith. Gulp!

'Write what you know' was the beginning mantra. Well, what DID I know?? I was defining Home and still discovering myself. So, that's what I picked. I faithfully attended class, but my instructor harbored thinly-veiled hostilities. She banged the drum of active verbs and insisted I start my triteste with: 'I'm a wife; I don't work.'

“The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat” (2 Thes. 3:10).

I acquiesced because I've always trusted the Teacher more than myself. But, it felt like a Lie. And It was. But I no longer need to justify myself. I Do work – a lot. My status as a married woman does not change that. Even though I choose my compensation, my labor is not second-class.

Hourly v. Salary

I like the the mentality of hourly work; I like it's definite boundaries. Easier to define than salary, product-driven, or contract-work, wage work is less complicated.

Recently I heard a sermon on Ephesians 6:1-9 and I realized this teaching, along with another edict from Saint Paul (as follows), is fundamental to my work ethic. Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, 24 since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving (Col. 3:23:24).

Since God sees everything I do, my fearful response is to work all the time, as if to Gain His Favor. I know that pace is unsustainable – I have limited focus and energy. I mush find balance between work and rest (daily and weekly). God modeled this for me by resting on the seventh day.

One challenge of working at home is that I always see the work that's unfinished – dishes in the sink, laundry in the hamper, dirt on the floor, piles of papers to be sorted. Even a consistent, conscious choice to look past those tasks only lasts so long. People need to eat! And while man does not live on bread alone, he does need bread.

God Rested 1/7^th of the time He Created. Could I use His scale for each day? (Maybe I should up the fraction, since I'm not All-Powerful.) One-sixth of each day allotted for work, not counting sleep time, because that would take more than its share while leaving me exhausted.

24 hours total = 8 hours sleep + 16 hours awake

2.67 hours for Resting...wow.

What counts as Resting?

Violence: Male v. Female

It's fascinating how deeply seeded the Male v. Female perspective is. I do not think I am sexist, but do acknowledge some inconsistencies in my attitudes toward members of each gender. 

[First of all, attitudes arise out of stereotypes, stereotypes out of generalizing, generalizing out of ignorance. When I don't take the time to know a person, it's easy to insert assumptions about them.]

The America I live in has taken much of its culture from Ancient Greece and Rome. Our calendar, our system of government, our mythology (as detailed by Mr. Wink, "Facing the Myth of Redemptive Violence").

Excerpt:

In the Babylonian myth ... violence is no problem. It is simply a primordial fact. ...Typically, a male war god residing in the sky fights a decisive battle with a female divine being, usually depicted as a monster or dragon, residing in the sea or abyss (the feminine element). Having vanquished the original enemy by war and murder, the victor fashions a cosmos from the monster’s corpse. Cosmic order requires the violent suppression of the feminine, and is mirrored in the social order by the subjection of women to men and people to ruler.

That last sentence blows me away. How insidious, the Lie that pits one part of humanity against the other, claiming to restore balance. Why can't the male war god and the female divine being get along? They don't reside in the same part of town. Why must it be either/or? It sounds like the Drive to Fix things can be Destructive. 

So - pair this cultural perspective with a Christian faith and you get - Confused. 

The biblical myth in Genesis 1 is diametrically opposed to all this (Genesis 1, it should be noted, was developed in Babylon during the Jewish captivity there as a direct rebuttal to the Babylonian myth). The Bible portrays a good God who creates a good creation. Chaos does not resist order. Good is prior to evil. Neither evil nor violence is part of the creation, but enter later, as a result of the first couple’s sin and the connivance of the serpent (Genesis 3). A basically good reality is thus corrupted by free decisions reached by creatures. In this far more complex and subtle explanation of the origins of things, violence emerges for the first time as a problem requiring solution.

Perhaps these two competing viewpoints play off each other when trying to interpret Scripture. For instance, the Apostle Peter extols readers to be gentle with the 'weaker partner' (1 Peter 3:7). His word choice leaves something to be desired. Would he change it if he saw what contention it has caused? It's true that women are (generally) weaker physically. Although men and women are created out of the same stuff, I think that is where most comparisons should stop. We both have bodies (although very different), feelings, active minds, needs, spirits...but comparing Apples to Pears is just not fair. 

But, back to my point - I agree that systems need a manager, nations need persons of authority, families need direction. However, the complete subjection of women to every whim and wish of men goes too far. Yet, even being a woman does not exempt me from being critical of Women, even objectifying them when encouraged to do so. 

Reading this article helped me to see through to the attitudes that have seeped into my unconscious. Realizing the ridiculousness of warring genders helps me see the dividing walls Satan builds. Once those walls are exposed, I see the Lies in contrast to the Truth: It is for Freedom that Messiah set you free (Gal. 5:1). Now, there is no male or female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus (Gal. 3:28). So, Be Reconciled to each other as you are to God through The Prince of Peace's work on the Cross. Through Him we have access to the Father (Eph. 2), and can put off the Old and put on the New (Eph. 4:22).

Quick and painless

Why do I worry so much?

Quote of the Week: Capon

I've seen some bloggers share thoughtful quotes; here's one I read today.
Spot on and thought-provoking. Also, it sheds new light on my baggage with music...

From Between Noon and Three by Robert Farrar Capon:
(Capon is speaking of the outrageousness of God's grace. Here he is responding to a reader's concern that he is not serious enough about morality. The Latin phrase, loco parentis, means 'in the parental role.')

If we are ever to enter fully into the glorious liberty of the children of God, we are going to have to spend more time thinking about freedom than we do. The church, by and large, has had a poor record of encouraging freedom. It has spent so much time inculcating in us the fear of making mistakes that it has made us like ill-taught piano students: we play our pieces, but we never really hear them because our main concern is not to make music, but to avoid some flub that will get us in Dutch. The church, having put itself in loco parentis, has been so afraid we will lose sight of the laws of our nature that it has made us care more about how we look than about who we are - made us act more like the subjects of a police state than fellow citizens of the saints....[we need] the ability to take our freedom seriously and act on it, to live not in fear of mistakes but in the knowledge that no mistake can hold a candle to the love that draws us home. My repentance, accordingly, is not so much for my failings but for the two-bit attitude toward them by which I made them more sovereign than grace. Grace - the imperative to hear the music, not just listen for errors - makes all infirmities occasions of glory.

Money = Commitment

For those of you that don't know this about me, spending money is a commitment to what is purchased and its implications.

For example, I have not yet purchased a light set for my bike. Last week, after day light's savings ended, I rode home in semi-darkness. Only few points of the ride were truly scary, but it gives one pause. It is easier for me to request bike lights as a gift - something practical that I need and would use. If I purchase the set myself, I make a commitment - in my mind - to use them, ride in the dark more often. And I don't know if I'm ready for that. Aha!

So, you see why spending money to be Fingerprinted is a big step for me. It is a real commitment to the process of Adoption.

But, I know this is our path because obstacles jump in front of us whenever we take a step. Three months ago, the day after we started reading through the application requirements, we received a 20 day notice to vacate, throwing us into a tailspin of house-hunting on an impossible schedule. That crisis was averted - Praise be to God - but the steps (and therefore challenges) have only begun.

Last night, several issues tried to stop us from going down to the Police Station. First of all, Bryce came home late - not his fault, but it happened. We had 20 minutes to eat and get out the door...which we accomplished, but then, in haste to clean up, a sauce bottle dropped to the floor, spilling glass and tastiness all over the floor - another 5 minutes gone. I quietly cursed Satan for so obviously getting in the way.

Fingerprinting is only offered at specific times; we had 20 minutes left. We sped down the hill to the station. The whole building was dark, but it's the Dark Season in Seattle these days, when the sun sadly goes down before 5pm, so I didn't worry. Three cars were parked in the lot. The front door was open, but not the second security door. The window was closed - they closed early! I was disappointed. It takes me awhile to work up the courage to take steps like this one...and not completing the step is a let down.

Even after writing the date three times during the day, hearing special Veteran's programs on NPR, reading FB friends grateful statements to those who serve our country, I did not remember it was a holiday until my small group members pointed it out!

Foiled this time - but, next week is coming...

Getting Fingerprinted

So, in order to apply for foster parenting and adoption, we have to be fingerprinted and send for a FBI report.

At first it feels weird, like I'm untrustworthy or something. Like I might be a Criminal. Like I AM one...

Then, I found out that school teachers and insurance professionals have to be fingerprinted. Well, maybe it's not too bad. I highly esteem those professions and the people who dedicate their lives in services.

A dear friend of mine also helped me process through this weird hurdle. God went through HUGE hoops to bring us into His family. Why should following in His footsteps be so easy? I actually do want systems in place to protect children. Boundaries should be erected because there ARE monsters out there.

It's just a new experience for me to start one the side of Possible-Monster and slowly step through the many gates put in front of everyone, ordinary people trying to do extraordinary things.

We must error on the side of protection.

This process requires Patience.

But I will be found a capable, loving parent – by the Grace of God -- eventually.

Trafficking essential subject, but truth missed in movie: Taken

I do not understand how men who raise daughters could ever sell women as business.

I watched the “action-packed, adrenaline-fuel ride” movie “Taken” last weekend. It was action-packed for sure – the gunshots and breaking of faces paused only to acquire the next piece of the puzzle...then, repeat.

Perhaps Mr. Neeson needed an outlet for his anger after losing his real-life wife in a terrible accident. That is understandable. However, what is inexcusable is the movie's introduction of trafficking as an issue, then quickly tossing it aside to justify the use of any type of violence and destruction. All sacrificed for one...

At one point, the next-bad-guy-to-die grovelled in an elevator and said he had a daughter, too, but this was business; it was not personal. The problem is: it's always personal to someone when the topic is human trafficking and sexual exploitation of women. All men have a Mother, every woman is a Daughter, Sister, Mother.

What strikes me is the disconnect between raising a little girl and treating other girls (women) as if they are property, objects, inhuman, trash. How could that character go home, kiss his wife and caress his daughter's hair, after selling others to the highest bidder, never thinking twice about the pain and abuse they would suffer that very night and many to come? Never thinking those women go to their deaths – maybe not physically (although that's a good possibility), but to the death of every beautiful part of her soul.

I wish I could give my female perspective to all the men I know. Maybe it would start the uncomfortable, but important conversations rolling. Sex is personal for women. Our deepest desire is to be known and to be found beautiful. Exploitation shatters both of these needs in one stroke. Our deepest parts are explored through intercourse, physically and emotionally. If we are discarded afterward, passed around like something ordinary, or measured against a fantasy woman, we feel worse than ugly. We become wounded beyond repair. The deep, deep fear that we are not good enough for Love is realized. The LIE that we are worthless takes root and the Doubt Never Leaves. The hope of being found truly Beautiful is lost.

I cannot claim to comprehend men and how they are wired. I do understand men are different than women. I know every man is unique. I know there is a vast spectrum of satisfaction. And that there is a grave difference between desire and action, and yet...

A man once told me that rape is about power, not climax or desire. That information helps me get my head around part of the disconnect. Feeling powerless is never enjoyable; it's only natural for the youngest kid to kick the dog when he takes abuse from his older brothers...the totem pole always has a lower rung. It doesn't mean the boy hated the dog, exactly; she was in the way of his frustration and anger. But feeling powerless does not excuse taking power from another or abusing them; those who seek out the vulnerable go even farther down that dark, dark road.

The Myth of Redemptive Violence is that all levels of violence are allowed as long as you pursue what is Good and Right (Order, not Chaos). Although this movie plays on my hope to be worth that kind of run-across-the-world, will-not-be-stopped salvation, the reality is that so many women in this movie were not saved. The protagonist's daughter was the one in a million. And so many girls are caught in the real nightmare.

The only way I live knowing my world contains this Evil is this Truth: that my Jesus holds each one of them in His Loving Hands. He is right now doing a new work to bring about their rescue. He is the only one who is Mighty and Able to Save.

Standing in stark contrast to human ideas of Justice is One who did not consider Equality something to be grasped (although it was already His), but became a slave of Love – One sacrificed for all. Thank you, Jesus!