Getting over it - finally

Tonight, the Watoto Children's Choir came and performed at my church.  This is the third time that I've seen them, and once again it amazed me how incredibly joyful and uncynical all of these orphans were.  Each and every one of these children has lost one or both parents, many having never even met them.  Their parents and other relatives were killed by war, disease, or HIV/AIDS.  Compared to my life, each of these children have been through hell and back.  Yet I am the one sitting in the audience continually fighting my own cynicism and bitterness.  They who have every reason to be bitter were standing up there singing their hearts out about their love for Jesus and the fact that they are not alone.
This amazing spectacle was immediately followed by Pastor Mark giving a sermon on Parenting.  I instantly knew that God wanted me to deal with my own heart, as my own experience being "parented" is at the source of a large portion of my bitterness and cynicism.
I have two of the most amazing parents in the world, who loved me and raised me with more love and care than I could possibly hope to imagine, and yet I struggle all the time with bitterness and anger towards the way that they raised me.  It's not their fault.  I am perfectly reconciled with my parents and their incredible love for me.  But I am still unbelievably bitter towards the primary source of their parenting ideology.
My parents are disciples of and leaders in a parenting ministry called Growing Families International.  While I truly believe that the hearts and motivations of the ministry's founders and leaders are perfectly good and right, I still harbor such resentment regarding what it did to me.  Because of the methods espoused by GFI, I grew up believing that I had to lie my way through life, constantly pretending to be this perfect little girl who was so far from the person I truly was.  Instead of ever changing my heart, my parents were constantly correcting and molding this facade which I chose to show them.  And every time the true me broke free, I was corrected and punished at length, hearing every single reason why these actions, this real me, wasn't ok.
Even while I'm writing this, I shudder at the person that I used to be, at the anger that I still hold.  I have to let it go.  I have to get over it.  I want so badly to be able to speak into GFI, to affirm in them what I think they're doing right and to be able to loving tell them which very specific areas they may be erring.  But when I even contemplate talking to anyone related to the ministry, bile rises in my throat, and I have to fight back the anger and bitter criticism.  I have no clue how to forgive, how to forget, how to stop blaming them (not my parents, but the ministry).
And GFI isn't the only thing which I harbour resentment towards.  My highschool.  My hometown.  My old youth group.  My old church.  Christianity in general.  Every one of these things, I hold captive in my bitterness.
I could go on and on about how deep my resentment runs, about how completely cynical I have become.  But none of that compares to the stark contrast I felt tonight while I was sitting, wallowing in my own bitterness, watching the beautiful, joyous, and carefree faces of the Watoto Children's Choir.  I have nothing to complain about.  I have been through nothing.  Yet, just like them, I belong to God.  I am His.  And I am not alone.  I may have been hurt and I may carry the scars forever, but I am here.  And I am alive.  And I am His.
If those little kids can smile and dance and sing, unencumbered by the tethers of cynicism, unhindered by the chains of anger, then my own past must hold no more power over me.  I am free, because I belong to the One who freed those children from the grips of war, disease, and every possible hardship. I am free because, even in my darkest hour, even when I felt most alone, it was God Almighty that was sheltering me, it was under His wings that I took refuge.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.  And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his image with every-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.  (2 Corinthians 3:17-18)

This is my PSA

It amazes me how horrible so many Christians are at being aware of how they come across to the rest of the world.  It really shouldn't amaze me at this point, yet somehow it still does.

For instance, while I was home this past weekend, I spent some time in the heart of Bible-belt country near South Bend, Indiana.  It seemed like everywhere I looked, there were signs that oh-so-proudly proclaimed: "WE ARE PRO-LIFE!" and crosses which were dedicated to "all the dead babies."  Now, don't get me wrong, I really don't have any problem with people having a pro-life political position.  I really don't.  As much as I am not pro-life, I completely understand where they are coming from.  I get it, and it's ok.  But, really, what good could it possibly do to put up pro-life billboards everywhere you go?  Is proclaiming your moral superiority going to be the deciding factor in possibly one of the toughest decisions a woman can ever make?  Is offering your blanket condemnation going to help witness to someone who has previously had an abortion?  Do your billboards actually bring aborted fetuses back to life?

On a seemingly unrelated note: while I was home and therefore back in the land of the cable-having, I saw this new PSA which denounces people saying "that's so gay".  I can't really explain just how grateful this made me.  I know so many people (and I will freely admit that I used to be one of them) who say this phrase so nonchalantly.   I love that someone is finally stepping up and saying something about it.  For years, this phrase used to be a part of my every day vernacular.  I simply never thought anything of it.  Then came my freshman year at AU: I think I stopped saying "that's so gay" after about one week.  It's not even that I meant anything by it.  I just wasn't thinking about what it meant.  It was just a phrase.  Then someone pointed out to me that, at AU where a very large minority of people are, in fact, gay, this probably isn't the best thing to say.  It wasn't hard to change.  And I definitely don't miss saying it (because it didn't really mean anything, anyways).

So what is the point of all of this?

Well, besides my random desire to blog rant, I simply felt the need to say, to all my fellow Christians out there: think before you speak. It's not that hard.  It doesn't take that long.  And the phrases or words which you may have to cut out, you probably won't even miss them that much (if at all).

Think about how it sounds to the hurting and the oppressed and the searching when you spend so much energy denouncing the "murder" of all the "dead babies" and then nonchalantly joke about the "gayness" of this or that undesirable occurrence.

Now, even I find it ironic that I'm writing a blog asking people to watch what they say when I so rarely watch the type of language that comes out of my mouth (when it comes to swearing, that is).  But the fact of the matter is that me saying a four letter word every once and a while does little if anything to compromise the Message which I am striving to live out.  If I started to use language, however, which makes fun of how someone defines him/herself or which condemns an already hurting person, my Message would be not just compromised but utterly forsaken.

So if your greatest desire in life is to love the world around you and to reach out to the hurting and broken people, maybe you should focus less upon which four letter words not to say and more on how your overall message or your flippant jokes come across to the very people you're supposed to be reaching out to.

Oh, and one final note, in case that wasn't clear enough:

For the love of all things holy, if you go to AU, don't make fun of anything even remotely related to homosexuality!  Even if you hold the moral stance that homosexual acts are a sin, you still should not make fun of being gay.   You never know who standing around you, even if you're in a supposedly all-Christian environment, is struggling with this issue.  There may be a gay person standing next to you, or maybe just a straight person who is struggling with knowing what to believe about homosexuality in general.  So don't mock it.  Don't make jokes about it.  If you can't talk about it in a constructive manner, then just don't talk about it at all!

Ok, I'll get off my soapbox.

Let's be honest...about sex.

I've grown up in the Christian church my entire life.  Ergo, my entire life, I've heard the same message regarding sex: it's really great for when you're married, but until then, just don't do it.  However, not once in my life has anyone had a frank and honest discussion of how to achieve the latter.   No one recognizes the fact that God made us to be sexual beings and, as such, you will have certain desires.  I've listened to many lectures about how to "say no" if some guy is trying to pressure you into something.  But no one has ever addressed how to deal with it when there is no guy.  When it's simply your own body wanting something that you're not supposed to have.  Oh, some people might throw out there: "just go read the Bible."  But that doesn't fix anything.  To be blunt, that doesn't stop you from being horny.  No one tells you what to do with that.  Oh, from what I understand, they address issues of porn and masturbation a bit more in depth with guys.  But I guess that they just think that girls, unless there's a guy pressuring them, will never feel a sexual desire...and can never be turned on visually...  Well that's just sad, in my opinion.

And people wonder why I'm so in favour of comprehensive sex education.  Because at least then they're honest about something.  They recognize the fact that it's not quite as simple as just sliding a "promise ring" on your finger or signing a "true love waits" contract.  They recognize that, no matter how hard you try, most people will not remain abstinent.  And so comprehensive sex education tells you how to deal with sex in a healthy and safe way.  It's not a perfect solution, but at least they start with honesty.  That's something.

I don't have a boyfriend.  I've never had sex, and I've never even kissed anyone.  But I still struggle with this on a daily basis.  And my response hasn't always been above reproach.  Far from, in fact.  And I know that I'm not the only one.  So why does no one talk about this?  Are we, as Christians and as a culture, really so naive to think that people don't struggle with this?  That our simplistic responses of "just say no" and "it's great in the context of marriage, but stay away till then" are really going to take away people's inherent sexual needs and desires?

Why do I feel such shame to even admit that I don't know how to deal with my own sexuality?  Around some friends, I'm ashamed to admit my utter lack of sexual experience, while around other friends I'm even more ashamed to admit my own sexual desires.

One of my greatest hopes is that one day the church can take a cue from comprehensive sex education.  Maybe one day they can start with honesty.  Stop bullshitting around and making it seem like it's as simple as "just say no!"  Stop making us feel like even admitting the fact that we are sexual beings is somehow sinful.  God made us this way.  We don't start being sexual beings when a wedding ring gets on our fingers or even when we start having a serious romantic relationship.  No, our sexuality emerges with puberty and continues to get stronger over the next few decades.  Ignoring it doesn't make it go away.

So, tell me, what are the solutions?  And don't give me easy one-liners and then walk away.  Because we both know that it's not nearly that simple.

Start. Being. Honest.

Pro-gay marriage, pro-choice. And still a Christian...

"I don't have a limited enough view of God to believe that a U.S. law has the power to de-sanctify His plan for marriage."

Thank you, Brittany Jo, for reminding me once again why I'm friends with you.  And why I still have the "audacity" to be a flaming, bleeding heart, crazy, bordering-on-Commie, liberal Democrat...and still a Christian.

No, my ethics, morals, and salvation are not compromised.  No, I have not disregarded God for the sake of appeasing my own partisan political desires.  But instead I am a Christian who happens to live in a country which is governed, not by the Bible (thank God), but by a very-well written (though still fallible) Constitution.  No, this Constitution was not somehow "ordained by God."  It is just a document written by a bunch of old white men a couple hundred years ago to govern this grand experiment called the United States of America.

Nowhere in the Bible or in this wonderful founding document does it say, "every good Christian should agree upon a couple of political issues."  And yet that is what I have been told over and over again throughout the years by my brothers and sisters in Christ.  They always use that phrase, too: "a couple issues."  As if no one could possibly decipher which two partisan issues are believed to be the essential "Christian" political issues...

Well my Religious Right brethren, I think I've cracked your ingenious code:

1. Abortion
2. Gay Marriage

Every time one of these two issues is brought up in a Christian setting, and I announce my vehement opposition to the opinions of those around me, my morals, my integrity, and my very salvation are scrutinized and even denounced.

Yes, I am pro-gay marriage.  Yes, I am pro-choice.

No, I'm not going to hell because of the preceding statements.

It's not the government's job to go into our bedrooms and tell us whether or not our sexual exploits or even who we choose to love falls in line with their interpretation of Scriptures.  Furthermore, Loving v. Virginia makes clear that marriage is a right of every American.  These simple facts and the line uttered by my oh-so-brilliant roommate at the beginning of this post make me an ardent supporter of the right of every individual to marry, regardless of sexual orientation.  

When it comes to abortion, I am a realist.  I recognize that, no matter the legal status of an abortion procedure, women will still have abortions.  The only difference will be in the safety and regulation of that procedure.  Furthermore, Congress and the states will never get enough support to pass a constitutional amendment which outlaws the procedure nor will the Supreme Court ever overturn its stance on abortion (even the most conservative members of the court respect precedent too much to overturn Roe).  So my primary focus will always be on promoting policies which reduce unwanted pregnancy.  No, this does not mean abstinence-only education.  Quite the opposite, in fact.

But I digress.  The Bible does not lay out a political roadmap for Christians to follow.  There is only one time which Christ talks about regarding Christians are supposed to interact with the government: "give to Caesar what is Caesar's."  He doesn't say, "overthrow Caesar and use his throne to promote my moral code."  He doesn't even advise anyone to try and influence Caesar in this direction.  He simply says, "give to Caesar what is Caesar's."

Jesus didn't come in as a rider on a white horse overthrowing the Roman empire (despite the desires of the people for a Messiah such as this).  He just came as a lowly carpenter-turned-Rabbi who traveled from town to town doing good works and miracles and spreading His message of love for all.  To me, that doesn't sound like the rallying cry for any specific American political party.

I can't say for sure that Jesus would have been a Democrat or a Republican.  I do believe that Jesus cared deeply for the poor, the needy, the prisoners, and the outcasts.  These are the things which lead me to believe that He may have leaned liberal on issues of welfare, crime-policy, and, yes, even gay rights.  But I don't know for sure.  And I would never claim to know.  Jesus never specifically told us what to believe politically or how to vote.  He also never said that how we vote must always be directly in-line with our moral/ethical code.  All He said was, "give to Caesar what is Caesar's."  Take that for what it is, but not for what it is not.

Definitions and Hidden Convictions

(Written Sunday, December 19^th, 2010)

I’m writing this after spending an amazing day hanging out with extended family on my grandparent’s farm in the backwoods of eastern Ontario (though it won’t be posted till later because…well…it’s the middle of nowhere and my grandpa only has dial-up).  I love my family.  I treasure spending time with them more than I could possibly express. 

And yet… 

Every time that I’ve come here in recent years, I’ve found myself struggling to define myself in the midst of this world.  You see, my extended family (and my immediate family to an extent) defines itself and everyone in it by how well each individual fits into their preconceived definitions.  Are you married?  How many kids do you have?  Are you in the ministry?  Are you preparing to be a wife and a mother?  Are you acting like a young woman?

Women and men are talked about as rigid, immovable categories which define nearly everything that you need to know about a person.  From such mundane (though still patently incorrect) things such as “women like mittens” to more frustrating notions like the instruction that my brother must go help my grandpa do chores outside but I, a girl, do not have to.

In this world, I am defined by these stringent categories.  In my world, I must admit, I am still defined by categories.  I am defined by my GPA.  I am defined by my AU honours status.  I am defined by my major and my career goals.    Except these definitions do not bug me so much.  Because I fit; because I’m comfortable.  I can answer questions regarding these definitions with ease and without agitation.  I never feel the need to suppress my anger or my grief. 

It’s a different story in this place though.  My family doesn’t seem to understand the thought that these definitions, these categories might not perfectly suite everyone.  Yes, they recognize that not every girl gets married (at least not right away).  But women still must play different roles than men in nearly every area of life.  Your gender is still the most defining characteristic of who you are.  It tells you where you can go, what jobs you are and are not expected to do.  It tells you when you can speak or how well your speech will be respected. It tells you what you like and do not like, what you are and are not capable of understanding.

My greatest heartache at this moment is that I cannot be myself in this place.  There is one definition that I must suppress and it hurts me more than I would like to admit.  I cannot be a feminist.  I cannot declare my equality with man.  I must pretend.  Pretend that I’m ok with this constant understanding that women are lesser.  That I am lesser.  I am defined by what I am, and what I am first and foremost is a woman.  So therefore, I am less than.  I am not him.  I am her.  I cannot stand up.  I cannot speak out.  I must pretend.

            This person is not me.  This silent person feeling the need to shrink away to my room so that I can find my voice.  The only comfort that I can find is in knowing that as soon as I get to the hotel in London, Ontario on December 22nd, I can copy and paste this document into my blog and then hit "publish post".  I am clinging to the hope of that button, knowing that nothing can silence this voice in the darkness.

Yet, though I cling to that thought, it is not exactly true.  I am choosing not to be a voice in the darkness of this place.  Out of fear.  Out of intimidation.  Out of love.  I don’t want to upset anyone.  I don’t want to get into a fight or make anyone mad.  Honestly, I just want to relax.  But I’m finding it to be more difficult than I had anticipated.  I’m feeling stressed out and agitated because I have no clue how to interact in this world.

I always know that I’m going to have to hide parts of myself while I’m here.  From simple things like my tattoos to bigger things like my feminism, I know far in advance that portions of me must remain hidden while visiting this farm.  I always forget how stressful it is though.  I never remember the heartache, the headaches, the pain.  I forget the need to rush into a private room and express myself through writing.  I forget the sarcastic comments which rise like bile in my throat.  I forget the clenched teeth and jaw, the furrowed brow, the painful concentration that it takes to simply bite these barbs back.

Don’t get me wrong.  As I said at the beginning, I absolutely love my family.  I love coming here, and I wouldn’t give up my time here for the world.  One of my greatest regrets in life is not being able to get to know my grandparents better.  So please don’t take any of this to think that I’m hating my family or not wanting to visit them.  It’s just hard.  I can’t seem to find a balance.  I need to find a way to love my family and respect their opinions, traditions, and beliefs while still maintaining my own convictions and character.

Home is where the ambition is

So I've been missing for an entire month.  Fail me.

The good news is: I am done with all of my classes for the semester. The bad news is: I still have to write an unholy number of papers and finals before I can go home.

I just realized that I will be graduating from college in one year.  Very weird.  Not sure how I feel about it.  In so many ways, I'm not ready to be done with this place.  I love it here more than I could possibly express, and I honestly can't imagine leaving DC.  I feel like I have found a new home, and it's weird.  Because thinking back on my childhood home, I never could've imagined not feeling at home there.  But as much as I adored spending ten days back in my old house and old room over Thanksgiving break, probably for the first time, I felt like a visitor.  It probably had something to do with the fact that my old room is practically naked.  It still has my paintings on the walls, my bed, and my dresser, but other than that, it's not my room anymore.  No posters, no pictures of musicians that have changed my life, no quotes of influential people, no dozens of Canadian flags (ok, there's still four there, but still).  My bookshelf with all of my books and my stereo and everything that makes my room my room have all been transferred to my apartment here in DC.  I even found myself missing my bed at my apartment while I was home (thanks to no longer being on a crappy dorm mattress).

So what is it that makes me feel "at home"?  Is it the aforementioned furniture, decorations, and personal effects?  Or does it go deeper than that?  There is that age-old saying, "home is where the heart is."  But my heart is in so many different places.  My heart is here in DC, in this place which houses all of my friends and, perhaps more importantly, all of my passions and dreams.  My heart is also in Chicagoland, with my parents and my brother, Jason, sister-in-law, Laura, one year old nephew, Landon (who I miss quite terribly right now) and unborn niece or nephew (TBD by the beginning of the new year).  My heart is also in Mishawaka, Indiana, with my big brother and best friend Stephen, especially tonight and tomorrow as he performs in yet another show that I can send my heart to, but not my whole self.  My heart is in Camp Lejeune, Jacksonville, North Carolina, with my brother, Phil, the Marine who I am soooo proud of, my sister-in-law, Ashley, my nearly two year old nephew, Isaac (whose parents need to start feeding him more so he's not just skin and very tall bones!), and my unborn baby niece, Harmony Nicole, who doesn't seem to want to listen to anyone who tells her to slow down, just like her beautiful mom.  My heart is spread across Canada, but especially in London and Avonmore, Ontario, with my respective grandparents, who I am unbelievably excited to go visit over Christmas break.

So yes, my heart is torn.  There are so many different places which it resides on a regular basis.  So, getting back to the original question, why is it that I feel that DC, and not Chicagoland or any other place, is truly my home now?  I think that God has given me a passion for this place, these people.  I love the diversity.  I love the fast pace.  I love the politics.

But, more than anything, I love being in a place where I know that there will never be an end to new challenges and passions which will capture my heart.  I love being surrounded by people who have so many ambitions, not just to live inside their comfortable little dream-like bubbles, but to step out and change it.  Change everything.  Change the world.  It reminds of something that my old high school chaplain used to say when asked how my high school was able to raise over a half a million dollars in aid for a little town in Zambia.

"We gave them permission to change the world."  I love that saying.

I don't know exactly what it is about DC that I love so much, but I think it has something to do with this passion for world changing.  I've been to other places where such sentiments, such ambitions, were scoffed at, ridiculed, and considered unbelievably naive.  And maybe the sentiment is naive.  But it was naive high school students who sat around a table one day nearly a decade ago and decided to "do something" to combat AIDS in some random country in sub-Saharan Africa.  That was the catalyst for building an entire k-12 school, a maternity ward in a hospital, supplying food for an entire year, and countless other small projects in some random village in Zambia.  That village no longer needs our help.  It was a group of naive women who thought it would be fun to stand outside the White House with signs calling for women's suffrage.  These women were subsequently jailed and force-fed, all in the name of women's suffrage. We now have the 19th Amendment to the United States Constitution.

I will never listen when someone tells me to temper my ambitions.  I may be young and naive, but I firmly believe that I do have the power to change the world.  And I love that DC has never tried to temper this.  In fact, this place has fostered and encouraged my ambitions beyond what I could imagine.

"Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen."

Capstone Conundrums

     So, because I'm planning on graduating a semester early, this coming semester, which I just registered for (YAY!) is technically the start of my senior year (weird).  What this means is that I need to seriously start figuring out what I want to do for my capstone.  It also means that I need to seriously get cracking on LSAT studying (eek!), but that's beside the point.

     I really want my capstone to be something important, something that I care deeply about, something that acts as a comprehensive accumulation of my time here at AU, and (perhaps most importantly) something that I won't get bored with. :P  I have so many different thoughts in my head, so many things that I care about.  I really am at a loss as to how to narrow them all down to something feasible.

     I'm a Justice and Political Science Major with a concentration in criminal justice and extensive course work in women's and gender studies.  (As a totally unrelated side note: I'm taking a religion class called "Feminist Theology" next semester.  Get excited!)  My life goal is to become a sex crimes prosecutor.  As such, I'm hoping to get into a prestigious law school.  What would be the appropriate cumulative project for this preparatory life called college?

     Or I could just explore one of the many policy areas which get my blood rolling: underage prostitutes and the fact that their "johns" aren't charged with, at the very least, statutory rape; the idea of life without parole being a de facto death penalty; issues of human rights (or lack thereof) within the prison system; the lack of rehabilitative policy within the American criminal justice system; the direct correlation between the crappy education system here in the United States and poverty/crime rates; and the patriarchal status quo in this nation serving as the basis for most, if not all, sex crimes.

     I also have to write a 20-30 page paper for my Justice Stories class.  Maybe I can treat that as a sort of mini-capstone to get some of my more minor ideas out of the way so that I can focus on one major idea in my capstone.  Or maybe I could actually challenge myself and force myself to do something creative for the project...  I doubt that'll happen, but I'll at least force myself to consider it.

Since when did school start involving important life decisions?  Didn't freshman year just start?  Can I just go back to taking classes for fun and not thinking about the implications of those actions?