Pro-Compassion

I received the following letter from a friend of mine who is a nurse with Planned Parenthood. I asked her if I could share it with you and she agreed.

I worked at the Planned Parenthood clinic in one of our most affluent communities in Texas today. It is the only clinic that we have protesters at in the Dallas area.

In the 15 years that I have worked for Planned Parenthood, I have never seen this much protester activity. There were between 15 people when I got there to about 30 people when I left out on the small area of grass between the sidewalk and the street, shouting at cars driving by, holding up signs and calling me personally a baby killer when I walked into the clinic this morning. They are not allowed on the parking lot or to engage us in any conversation and will be arrested for trespassing, so I did not feel threatened as I walked in, but they can certainly find out about me from the plates on my car. I don't feel that I am in any danger or that my family is, but it is making me more uncomfortable than I have ever been in the past.

Despite all of this I had a great day at work! I saw people with medical problems or who wanted a well woman exam and/or contraception and one young women who was there for a pregnancy test. A planned pregnancy, we celebrated with her. She said that the protesters told her we would try to convince her to have an abortion and she was nervous but needed a form for Medicaid so came in anyway. She was surprised that abortion was never even mentioned and we were celebrating with her. It is only mentioned when someone asks for the information, we do not give it to everyone. We do not do abortions at any of our clinics, we do not even have an abortion clinic that is a part of our affiliate. There is another affiliate in Dallas that does perform them but it is separate from us.

The amazing part of my day though was the many people who stopped by the clinic to thank us for being there. To find out where to donate time or money to Planned Parenthood to make sure that we stay here for the community. The men and women who offered to watch the parking lot to make sure we were safe and who offered to buffer the patients from the protesters. The people who wrote letters that they have brought in thanking us.

This is why I work for this organization, I know that I make a difference for these individuals. I am doing an important job and I get to hold my head up and ignore the disrespectful crowd and remember why I am here.

It feels good to say that this afternoon. Thanks for listening.

Growing up, I was fully immersed in the pro-life culture. I marched on Washington with my sign. I watched Silent Scream. I took pictures of carved up fetuses and showed them to my elementary school classmates. If my kids mentioned someone like this in their class today, I would be appalled, but back then, it was completely normal behavior.

Of course I hated Planned Parenthood.

The thing is, I didn't know anything about Planned Parenthood. There wasn't one in my town. I didn't know anyone who had visited one. I certainly didn't know anyone who worked at one.

My anger and hatred was borne completely out of my ignorance. I chose only to listen to one set of stories, rather than to all of the stories.

Things like abortion and the discussion between a woman's right to choose and a fetus's right to be born are difficult to sort through. I would love for there to be simple answers to these questions, but I've yet to find them.

In the absence of answers, I want to seek out ways to be compassionate. Compassion for the women who are forced to make difficult decisions. Compassion for unborn babies who are seen as burdens. Compassion for doctors and nurses who help women receive the care that they need.

When we choose compassion, we choose life.

To My Sons on International Women's Day

Dear, dear boys,

It's International Women's Day, so it would seem to make sense that I would write to your sisters today. But when have I ever done what makes sense?

No, my sons, I'm writing to you because you will be the ones with the power and privilege and you need to know how to use that to make the world better for your sisters and for all of the women that you meet.

You both already have such tender hearts and I love you for that. It makes me proud that you recognize the humanity in the people that you interact with. I wish you'd keep your room cleaner, but this is pretty good too.

Some day soon, you're going to hear another boy in your class say mean things about a girl. Not because she was mean first, but just because she's a girl. And you're going to have to make a decision about how to respond.

You can join in, you can be quiet, or you can ask them to stop. That last one is hard to do. Standing up to your peers can be scary and can leave you in the place where you will be teased or called names as well. I really do get that.

But you have more strength than you know. When you stand up for girls, you are helping other boys make that choice. It might take a while for you (and them) to see that, but it's what you're doing. You're paving the way for others to stand up against negativity when they see it. You're allowing them to know that they don't have to be negative themselves.

As you get older, people are going to tell you that men and women are already treated equally and that feminism isn't something that you need to concern yourself with, especially as a man. In a lot of ways, we are seeing equality. And I hope that as you're older, that will be even more the case.

But when you happen upon inequality, I hope that you'll notice. If you don't notice on your own (and it's okay if you don't - we can't all see everything), I hope that you'll pay attention if someone points it out to you. And I hope that you'll do what you can to change it. It might be something small, it might be something big. Know that making the effort is far more important than the size of the effort.

I know that being 8 and 11 year old boys, you're not thinking about what today means. That's okay. Enjoy what you love. Play Minecraft and Zelda. Run around outside. Stay up too late talking in bed. Be boys.

And when the time comes, remember your power and use it well.

All my love, Mom

I'm a Slut

In November of 1996, I began taking oral contraceptives. And in December of that same year, I started having sex. I don't remember the exact date, but I do know that it was the first of many times.

I'd messed around a lot the two and a half years prior. Lots of pushing the envelope as far as it could go without crossing over to sex, and at least a little bit of pushing beyond even that. The only thing that kept me from just going ahead having intercourse was a deathly fear of pregnancy. I was not going to be an unwed mother, so I didn't have sex. But I was sure as hell sexual, and I got as good as I gave.

I've had one sexual partner in my life. And I'm married to him. In the two and a half years before we were married, we were completely faithful to one another. He was the first and only person that has shared my bed.

It can be easy to read those first few paragraphs and call that woman a slut. She was sexually active outside of marriage. She engaged in sex as soon as the threat of pregnancy was removed. She was an active and enthusiastic sexual partner.

I knew all of the reasons why I should wait. I even agreed with them. And before I met Jason, there was never any question that I would wait. I wanted to be with someone that I loved and who loved me back. I wanted to be with someone who was fully committed to me. I wanted to be with someone that I intended to spend my life with.

Jason was all of those things.

But he was all of those things for two and a half years before we were officially married.

And this is where the word slut is problematic to me. Not only because it demeans women, but because it is generally used about women who aren’t ashamed of being sexual. Women who say, “Yes, I want to have sex and I want to have an orgasm when I do.” Women who don’t have sex coupled with regret.

When we use this phrase, whether loudly on the radio or in whispers in church, we wrap sex, and particularly the female enjoyment of sex, in a huge blanket of shame.

When we teach our daughters “don't be a slut,” we aren’t simply teaching them to be faithful to their future husband. We aren’t simply teaching them to respect themselves. We aren’t simply teaching them to value marriage and fidelity and oneness.

When we use that word they may hear those lessons, but it comes with extra baggage. When we say "don't be a slut," we’re teaching them that if they do have sex outside of marriage, they had better feel terrible about it. They can never admit to enjoying it. And they should never, ever, ever be the one to pursue it.

These messages stick with you, regardless of your sexual activity. Whether it becomes something that you fear or you pursue recklessly, sex loses that which makes it truly sacred - the ability of two to become one.

You may consider my past behavior to be slutty. You may consider my current behavior to be slutty.

All I know is that I want the same thing today that I have wanted every day since the first time Jason kissed me, and that's to be curled up naked with him.

If that makes me a slut, then I'm a slut.

++++++++++++++

Today I'm linking up with Joy in this Journey for Life: Unmasked, where we share life openly. Click here to see the other posts and to leave your own.

John Piper's Consistency

Last week, John Piper gave a talk at a pastor's conference where he said that God gave Christianity a masculine feel. Needless to say, a number of people, women and men alike, took issue with these statements. The blogosphere was alight with posts about why his statements are wrong, how they hurt women, and how they give an incomplete view of God.

I absolutely support these posts. When a portion of the Body of Christ is marginalized, it's important to stand up and say, "No, you shouldn't do that." I am thankful that more and more people are standing up for women in the world and especially in the Church. Each time I hear a prominent male leader say, "Women can't do this," I'm hearing more and more voices responding, "Yes, they most certainly can."

I wish I was surprised by John Piper's comments, but ultimately, I'm not. This is the same man who, two and a half years ago, said that a tornado that went through Minneapolis was a sign from God that the ELCA was in trouble for approving sin by allowing the ordination of gay and lesbian ministers.

That comment had significantly less push-back.

John Piper believes that his stance on both of these issues is biblical. He can easily point to verses that support his views both about the roles of women and about homosexuality. I am certain that he would say that he hates neither women nor the LGBT community and that his statements are strictly about maintaining the integrity of the Bible.

The thing is, if we allow one part of the Body to be marginalized and dehumanized, we open the door for others to experience the same thing. 

When we don't stand up for gays and lesbians in our churches, we are saying that they don't matter.

When we encourage our congregations to vote against rights for gay and lesbian couples or workers or students, we are saying that they aren't worth as much as straight people.

When we make jokes at the expense of gay people, we create a circle and put them clearly on the outside.

It can be easier to get riled up when we see an injustice being done to half of the Church. It's much harder when we don't even know if our congregation even has any gay people. (Hint? It definitely does.) Why stick our necks out for a group that is so small? Why risk the backlash of standing up for a group that has largely abandoned the Church?

John Piper has been consistent with his statements that are exclusive. My challenge today is to make sure that I am equally consistent in my statements to be inclusive.

Guest Post at InAMirrorDimly.com

Ed Cyzewski has become one of my favorite writers over the past year. I love his perspective on writing, life, and faith. His recent book about Christian unity is absolutely fantastic and I can't recommend it enough. And for just a few more days, you can download all of Ed's books super cheap. On top of all that, he is a steadfast supporter of my writing and just a great guy. Plus, he has rabbits. So yeah.

He has recently launched a new series called Women in Ministry, which, as you may have guessed, is about women in ministry. I'm honored to be a part of this, sandwiched in between some of my very favorite writers. Here's a snippet of my piece:

I don’t know if music can technically be a part of your DNA from a scientific standpoint, but I’m pretty certain that music was etched into my soul from the start. From my earliest days, music has played an integral role in bringing me joy. 

Likewise, the church has always been a part of my life. Some of my first memories are in the church. I can’t think of a season when the church hasn’t been a key character in my existence. 

It makes sense that the two would find their way together.

Head on over to Ed's to read the rest!

Redeeming the Conversation

Sunday sucked.

Sometimes we need to get that junk out. To shake our fist at the sky and try to make sense of a faith that (no matter who we are) excludes us. To voice our concerns about the trends that we see and to ask if maybe, just maybe, we need to rethink the message that we're sending to our brothers and sisters.

But after our fist shaking and question asking and concern voicing, I think we also need to step back and remember that we're on the same team.

I was angry on Sunday. But the pastor wasn't trying to make me angry. I'm absolutely certain that he doesn't hate women and I seriously doubt that he thinks they're less important than men. I'm sure that he knows that God loves men and women equally.

I think the biggest problem that he faces - that most of us face - is that we're limited by our experience.

I got married when I was 22 and had my first child when I was 23. Because of this, I didn't even think about how those comments would be perceived by someone who was single. This isn't because I don't care about my single friends, my experience just keeps me from hearing it through that lens. I think I'm getting better at practicing empathy, but I still need people to remind me that my experience isn't the only one.

So even though I'm tired, I will still try to engage.

Not with everyone. Some folks aren't interested in conversation, and I'm getting too old to fight.

But I don't want to fall into the trap of assuming that everyone is looking for a fight. I think a lot of people simply aren't aware of how the things that they've grown used to hearing and saying affect those around them. They just need someone (or several someones) to say, "Hey, maybe that's not the best way we can say this. Let's grab coffee and talk about this through."

I want to make sure that I'm looking for ways to redeem the conversation.

The Message Isn't Working

I've written that Christmas is one of the hardest seasons for me in my mixed faith marriage. This year was better than last, and while I still had a couple of rough days, we made it through the holidays relatively unscathed. The marriage is feeling good, the family is feeling good, I'm feeling good.

I guess I should have remembered that sometimes the bad isn't simply related to memories or what's going on in my mind. Sometimes it's related to stuff that people say.

The church service started with a clip from the movie Courageous. It struck me as fairly patriarchal, but I chalked it up to being grumpy because I was operating on a couple hours of sleep. I didn't really think that much about it, especially when the sermon started and seemed to be about having courage in the new year. A weak tie-in, but I can be pretty forgiving of stuff that I've done myself.

Then it took a bit of a turn.

The pastor started talking about how men were the ones to lead their families. Because if a man didn't do that job, "who else would?"

Then he asked the men to stand. And prayed over them. And invited them to yank their wives away from finishing their make-up to get to church early for weekly prayer. And said that the entire month of January would have sermons related to being a better leader, because that's the man's job.

Yeah.

I have written before that I hate stuff that belittles men. And I think that the Church has an obligation to pray for men and women as they deal with the stuff of life. And I guess that some women are late putting on make-up, after they get every other person in the family ready to head out for church.

But if I had been in the aisle, I would have walked out. Because I'm just plain tired of this stuff.

The pastor is about to embark on a month-long sermon series that is going to neglect every woman there who either A) doesn't have a husband or B) doesn't have a husband who attends church with her. And in a less dramatic way, is going to tell the women who do have husbands who attend church that their role in their family is less than that of their husband.

This isn't cutting it. It didn't back in the day and it isn't now.

In 2007, about 26% of all children are being raised in single parent homes, and of those, 84% are women. As of 2006, 25% of marriages in the US are interfaith marriages and these marriages have a significantly higher chance of ending in divorce.

More women are attending church than men. However, in the past 20 years, significantly more women have stopped attending church (11% fewer women to 6% fewer men).

The same message isn't working.

It didn't keep men in churches, and now it's driving women away from churches.

There are so many divisions that occur between the sexes already. We are faced every day with messages that tell us that we're different, that we're incompatible, that we're unequal.

In my own marriage, I'm already acutely aware of the differences that exist between us. It's obvious in the empty seat beside me. Pointing it out does not encourage me and it doesn't bring my husband to church.

I think there is plenty of room for courage in the Church. But it needs to extend beyond simply changing the packaging.

Real courage is going to require examining the message itself. When we turn from a divisive and exclusive message to one that really embraces oneness and unity.

Advertising Mister-y

The trailer for Miss Representation has been getting a lot of play over the past week and I applaud that. It is a powerful eight minutes and if you haven't taken the time to watch it, I highly recommend it. The way the media handles women is appalling and we can't do anything about it unless we're aware.

There is an incredibly sexist ad out right now that has really had my ire raised for a while. See below:



No, there are no boobs flashing. No girl is being told that she can't do what her male counterpoint can. There's nothing in this ad that is overtly sexist.

If you're a girl, anyway.

But in addition to being the mother of two daughters, I'm also the mother of two'of sons. And I've got to tell you, ads like the above hurt all of my kids.

That ad tells my sons that if they marry a strong woman, they are going to be emasculated for every decision that they make. It tells them that if they don't make a certain level of money, their wives are going to resent them. It tells them that they are perceived as stupid and untrustworthy.

I definitely want to see change happen for my daughters. I want them to know that they can do absolutely anything that they want. But I don't want that change to happen at the expense of my sons. Advancement that is achieved strictly by tearing down the perceived competition leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

AT&T asks us to rethink possible. I'm going to ask them to rethink running ads that make men and women look like assholes. Is that possible?

++++++++++

What do you think? Can we achieve some level of equality by simply by treating people well rather than tearing down those who are on top? Do you have a sexist ad that you want to rant about?