yes, all women?

So, the hashtag #yesallwomen is trending in response to the murder spree in CA. I don't have a twitter so I can't investigate it too much for myself, but I've read a few articles about what it is. I feel sorry for women who have been victimized by men. Some of the things women have gone through are pretty serious and should never happen, for any reason. But some of the examples of "misogyny" are not, at all. One tweet was complaining that it's a normal thing for women to be asked to text when they get home safely. Ummmm... that's called being a normal concerned human being, not a misogynist. Another was complaining that she can't dress however she wants without guys looking at her. If you don't want guys checking out your rack, then don't have it hanging out. There. I said it. Those things are not on par with rape and sexual abuse. And being offended that someone wants to make sure you got home safe is definitely not on par with being targeted by an actual crazy person who is trying to kill you with a knife. Those tweets marginalize women who actually have been victimized and just make that whole movement look like complete crazy man-hating vitriol-spewing nonsense.

I have been mistreated (not in any major way though) by men at various points in life but I'm not a victim. I've been treated poorly by other women too. Most men I have met are wonderful. Some were immature horn-dogs. Most women I meet are wonderful. Some of them were total harpies. It's a human issue, not a gender issue.

Women can't demand equality via sexual freedom without consequence and then complain that men want sex without consequence. Women can't demand that men respect them and then get mad that men... show them respect. Women can't criticize the sexualization of our culture but then turn around and say that it's ok to have your worldly goods on display and that men shouldn't even look.

It's not fair.

Sincerely,
A woman who is grateful for men.

Things Floridians Shouldn't Do

Drive 40 down Hiawassee.

Drive 80 down Apopka Vineland.

Slam on your brakes and hope someone lets you in when you’re merging on I4.

Back into your parking space in the Pointe Orlando parking garage. (Or any parking garage.)

Put your hazards on in the rain. RAIN IS NOT AN EMERGENCY.

Drive down I-Drive if you can possibly help it.

Go to Disney in the summer.

Complain about how hot it is. (Hello… it’s Florida.)

Complain about the rain. (Hello… it’s Florida.)

Complain about the lack of rain. (Hello… well you get the point.)

Complain about the cold. (If you’ve lived here over 2 years, you know it does in fact get cold. Buy a jacket!)

Buy theme park tickets anywhere but the theme park itself.

Tip poorly.

Match someone’s speed as you drive next to them down a busy road at rush hour. Or ever.

Feed the alligators.

Feed the birds.

Call John Morgan.

Skip the sunscreen.

Soaked in grace.

In the past couple months I’ve really had to struggle through things I’ve had to give up in order to follow the calls God has placed on my life. I’m a Presbyterian, so I don’t say very often that God “told” me to do anything (half-kidding…) but when the still, small voice of God impresses something on me in answer to prayer, it couldn’t be more clear. Hopefully I’m not shocking any of my friends with this. I can count on one hand the number of times that I KNOW God told me something, as opposed to timely advice from friends, Scripture, pastoral wisdom, etc. So when that happens, I know I have no choice but to obey. In that path, though, I haven’t always been wise, so I’m so grateful for people in my life that are wiser than me. I’ve received two pieces of advice in response to difficult situations, both stemming from my attempts at obeying what I know God has told me to do.

One was a firm reminder that I am not anyone’s savior. It was the best thing I could have heard at the time. It hasn’t changed much outwardly, but it has helped me check my perspective and motivation. It was freeing. Through all my roles in life, wife, mother, teacher… there are things I give up that I will never get back. I’m not saying that for sympathy, it’s just the truth. No one could give those things back to me, and I don’t want them back. I give them up because I am walking in His calling. I give those things up because I am not my own savior. I am not anyone else’s savior. Jesus Christ alone is the Savior. If He wants to use my efforts, He will, but not because of my righteousness. Because of His. And whether I ever see fruit from those labors, it doesn’t matter, because God will work what He wills. In all of this, God is refining me in the fire.

Another piece of advice I received after someone said something insulting to me about being a working mom was along the lines of “If you’re doing what you know God wants you to do, who cares what anyone else says about it?” So true. If I was in this for adulation, I wouldn’t be a teacher. My kids are happy and they are well taken care of when I’m not around. And I can’t imagine doing anything else. I have two biological kids on this earth and I’ve had hundreds of “kids” via my classroom through the years. What a blessing.

This past week I’ve been really content. Happy. For no real reason. Nothing earth-shattering happened; my usual difficulties and the subtext of my life right now are still in full force. But it’s ok. I have become less and Christ has become more. I heard this song today and it captures why I can have joy when people question my decisions: who I’ve chosen to pour my life into, and how, and how much. I am soaked in grace.  

"When your hope is gone, sing on."

This school year has been off to a rocky start. This past Friday, I had a terrible morning, and a terrible lunch break, and then right after lunch my day turned completely around. I ended up having one of the best weekends of my life.

I was feeling pretty sorry for myself by the time I got to my freshman English class.  I assigned a classwork project, which always makes me feel like I’m not really teaching because I’m not lecturing, and hoped for the best. Well, the students took ownership and got excited about this little assignment that I made up on the spot in a way that they had yet to do this year. Then it was time for my Brit Lit class and they had me in stitches as we read Much Ado About Nothing. I end the day with study hall, and since most of the class needed to be in the gym working on their homecoming banner, we just all went out there. Then it was time for football. If you read my blog, you probably know me personally, which means you know how much I love my Comets. They pretty much rocked the other team, I got a lot of great pictures, and I had a good time chatting with some students not in a classroom setting. It was the most relaxed I've been in weeks.

Then came Saturday. I went with William out to the last part of the RBC fall conference, which was a concert by Andrew Peterson. There are not words that exist to describe how much his music has ministered to my soul over the years. The best way I can think of is that it’s the closest thing to Scripture in how it works on me. The words to his songs are profound. I feel how I feel at the end of a great novel after listening to his music. We arrived at RBC, sat in the second row, chatted with our friends, and waited. As we were waiting for the concert to start, someone from our past who was involved in something that caused us a lot of hurt and that we hadn’t seen in years came by and started making polite conversation. It was super awkward. Then a few minutes later, this person pulled us aside and asked for forgiveness. It was one of the only honest-to-God apologies I’ve ever heard. Not an “I’m sorry if you were offended” but an “I did wrong. Forgive me.” The grace of God was overpowering. I never, ever expected that to happen in this lifetime, which showed me, as always, that His ways are not my ways, His timing is always perfect, and the Holy Spirit works in mysterious ways. This was 5 minutes before the concert started. So I started off a wreck before Andrew Peterson even came on.

This concert was a little different in that he gave a lot of background on what inspired his songs, mentioning GK Chesterton and Cormac McCarthy's writings, and his own personal experiences. He talked at length about listening to Satan, the Accuser, and how we need the Church, and to be reminded of Christ’s love, all the time. Those are the voices we should listen to, not the lies from the Father of Lies.

I hadn’t realized until that moment that that’s what I’ve been doing since the school year started. I’ve been listening to the lies that come in quiet moments. That I’m not really doing a good job at ICS. That I don’t spend enough time on home school with my son. That certain people don’t really like me. That I was just in the way at the high school retreat and shouldn’t have even gone. That the time I give up from my personal life for certain people outside of school will never really affect anything. I got a God-appointed reality check yesterday.

“You don’t have to work so hard
You can rest easy
You don’t have to prove yourself
You’re already Mine
You don’t have to hide your heart
I already love you
I hold it in Mine
So you can rest easy.”

After the concert we went with some RBC friends to a local pub, and as we were sitting outside starting to eat, lo and behold, Andrew Peterson walked past us on his way in to the pub with Ben Shive, who played the show with him, and some other guy. He recognized some of the faces at our table and stopped briefly to chat before heading into the restaurant. I made a lot of jokes yesterday about being a fangirl but seriously… I was so excited. I made my friend Michael go in with me to get a picture. I don’t even remember what I said to the man because how am I supposed to adequately thank someone for the work the Lord has done in my life through them? I hope whatever it was I said after “Can we get a picture with you?” made some kind of sense.

Life can be beautiful, and life can be awful, but in my own inconsistency and mess, God is always at work and present whether I see it or not. I needed to be taken back out of myself and I am grateful that happened this weekend. Getting to meet one of my earthly heroes was just icing on the cake.

“You are holiness and grace
You are fury and rest
You are anger and love
You curse and you bless
You are mighty and weak
You are silence and song
You are plain as the day,
But you have hidden your face--
For how long? How long?

And I am standing in the stillness of the reckoning
The storm is past and rest is beckoning
Mighty God, how I fear you
How I long to be near you, O Lord

How long until the burden is lifted?
How long is this the song that we sing?
How long until the reckoning?
 

And I know that I don't know what I'm asking
But I long to look you full in the face
I am ready for the reckoning.”