Womanhood: Real Men are Modest

As I was scanning through the endless updates on my newsfeed, I saw a picture of a half naked man and woman embracing each other on a bed.  Pretty common, really.  Am I right?  No big deal.  I was somewhat interested in the story attached, so I decided to read the comments other friends had said below.

There were three separate comments from three different men who talked about how the picture was quite inappropriate.

Did I mention I happen to be friends with a lot of awesome men?

Awesome men who say things like,
"The picture of the half naked woman bothers me."
"I like the ideas in the article, but I am offended by the picture.  I can't share it because of that."

Yep.  Men.  Real men.

I scrolled on by the picture like it was old hat.  Nothing new here.  Just a naked woman.
Shame on me.
Maybe it was because I see so much skin these days, sure.  In an immodest culture, we are all a little desensitized.  Maybe it was because I am not as interested in seeing a naked lady, so I scrolled by without interest.

Whatever the reason, I just ignored it.
That isn't being very modest, my dear Kelly.
But hats off to you, men, for noticing and standing up for me and for all women.

Modesty isn't just about what we wear and how we wear it, what kind of poses we make in pictures, or what kind of moves we do on the dance floor.  Modesty is indeed about all of those things, but it is also about what we allow to be shared about other women and men.  It is about how we view culture.  It is about how we view sex.  It is about watching out for our neighbors and their best interests.  It is about not liking inappropriate pictures on a woman's photo sharing sight.  It is about valuing our bodies more than valuing the responses they get in a public forum.  It is about encouraging and uplifting those who stand up against the objectification of women and of men.  It is about remembering that every man and woman's body is one for whom Christ died.

Modesty is about thanking the real men out there brave enough to say they have had enough.
So, thank you, male friends.
Thank you for reminding me that real men are modest.

Womanhood: Submitting

My husband was gone for a conference for a whole week.  I had a lot of time to think between screams from our three three-and-unders.  Most of my thoughts circled around my need for my husband.  And while I totally need my husband emotionally, what I was really reflecting on was the physical things that weren't being done around the house.

Who brings in the trash cans after they are picked up?
Who takes out the recycling?
Who cleans the litter box?
Who fixes that rattling sound from the fan?
Who moves the fan from the dining room to the bedroom each night?
Who waters those really dry plants around the house?

And so on.

Sure, they are just simple things, but somebody does them.
And that somebody is certainly not me or any of our children.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.  I think absence makes my dependence grow deeper.
And that is not a bad thing.

The world tells women -

"BE STRONG!"
"You don't need a man!"
"Being bossy is a protected right!"
"Submit to a MAN?  Sure, in the 16th century."

The truth is when God has given a husband to a woman, He has given her a symbol of Christ caring for His Church.  Not every woman is blessed with a husband, and she is still indeed complete in Christ.  Because whether you are given a man as a husband or not, you are still called to submit to one another.  Submitting is not just for wives.

Check it out - Read THIS. 

Submitting has such a negative cultural meaning in our take-charge, speak-out, kick-your-way-to-the-top, don't-mind-those-mean-authorities, and who-needs-men-anyway world.

My words on the matter -
Get over yourself.

And that is spoken to me just as much as you.

We all need a little lesson in getting over ourselves.
Putting the authority of another over the desires of ourselves.
Listening to our husbands instead of forming our next response as to why we are right.
Honoring our parents throughout our lives in place of assuming we know best because we are all grown up.
Respecting our pastors' words without questioning if his voice sounded just right from the pulpit.

And my role as the wife and my role as the daughter and my role as the parishioner does not change based on the actions of my authority.

If my husband doesn't take out the recycling, I am still told to honor and submit to him.
If my parents don't agree with me, I am still told to honor and obey them.
If my pastor doesn't have the most amazing preaching style ever, I am still told to respect and listen to him.
Ugh.
It is like a punch in the gut sometimes - the Law.  I don't like it.
My sinful self wants to find some "but, but, but..." in this.

There is no "but."

"...giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ."  Ephesians 5:20-21

OK, I was sort of wrong.  There is one "but."

It works like this -

I haven't honored and submitted to my husband the way I am commanded to do, but...
     ...but Christ fulfilled even this Law and even for me.
Even before I failed as a wife, He cleaned His entire Bride (even me!) by the washing of His blood.

I haven't honored and obeyed my parents the way I am commanded to do, but...
     ...but Christ fulfilled even this Law and even for me.
Even before I failed as a daughter, He was born of a woman, dying on a cross as the perfect Child.

I haven't respected and listened to my pastor the way I am commanded to do, but...
     ...but Christ fulfilled even this Law and even for me.
Even before I failed as a parishioner, He perfectly listened and obeyed His Father to the point of death, even death on a cross, so we, by virtue of our adoption, can call, "OUR Father..."

And because He buried me with Him in Baptism, He lives through me.
Every once-in-awhile I submit, I honor, I obey, I listen, but...
     ...but I do this only through Him.

Reality: Why children are awesome (and some other 100% truths)

Everyday I have to choose someone else over me.  Quite frankly, that stinks.  I like choosing me.

My kids take my time, they steal my showers, they wreck my prized possessions, they wake me in the middle of the night, they just need need need.  It is in my nature to just choose me, but here I can't.
They make me be just a wee bit less selfish every single day.

Children are awesome.

And with that lesson I learn to give a little more freely - not just to them but to all my neighbors.
My kids teach me to be better to my neighbors.
They make me stop judging my neighbors because I realize how hard this parenting thing is.
They encourage me to smile at my neighbor because I know they might be battling the same challenge as me.
Overall, they just make me stop thinking about me and start thinking about someone else for a change.

Children are awesome.

Everyday I see at least one of them act in the most obnoxious, sinful, annoying way.  I mean, I can't even describe it to you.
It is bad.
Then, I realize that is EXACTLY how I would act (and sometimes do) if it was socially acceptable for me to allow my inner crazy to be an outy.  And then comes the learning - more on my part than on theirs.
My children are the single greatest mirror of the law that God ever made - they help me see my own sin so clearly. So, we learn together what it is to repent.  And what it is to forgive.
It is a great lesson.  I need it everyday.

Children are awesome.

With each child we have had (whether they survived or not), I appreciate my marriage and my husband more.
What is this rubbish about children being hard on marriage?
Granted, finding time or energy to date, kiss, and make more babies is somewhat difficult.  But let me tell you, with each child, I know more and more how much my husband and I are
actually
really
totally
ONE.
I can't do it without him.
If I were to lose him, or he were to lose me, of course we would parent on with the help of God, but we would not be the same.  We depend on each other completely - sometimes just for sanity.  We share the same family jokes.  We laugh at our children's individual characters.  We know these little miracles and love them like no one else ever will, and we are the only two people in the world that feel this way.  That makes me love my husband more every single day.

And somehow, most of us who keep having children keep finding the time and energy to make more...so, there must be something to that "ONEness" thing...

Children are awesome.

The more kids we have, the less money we have.
The less things we buy.
The less stuff we own.
The less I need things I don't really need.
My kids make me care about stuff less.  Sometimes they actually make me hate stuff to the point of mass purges.  Cable - don't need it.  New furniture - sure, from a yard sale!  Clothes that haven't been worn by someone else?  I mean, they aren't even broken in!  Who needs such things?
The fact is, we probably live on less money each month than we did when we didn't have children.  I've learned to create in the kitchen instead of waiting for someone else's creation at a restaurant.  We read chapter books and listen to audio books instead of sitting in front of the TV.  There is very little entertainment inside our home, so we venture out into the woods or the library or the local park.  My children make me love the world around us.  And they make me thankful for the gifts we have been given.

Children are awesome.

There, I have given you so many reasons to know children are awesome without even mentioning the simple feelings.  But feelings are good, too -

The warmth of a newborn baby.
The pride of the first steps.
The accomplishment of their first read word.
Fill in all the warm fuzzies here...

True statement - children are awesome.

Reality: Your pastor is under attack (or at least he SHOULD be)

I am married to a pastor.

I also happen to be friends with many pastors and their wives.

And one thing is very clear to me through our conversations - 

Your pastor is under attack.

His family.

His faith.

His strength.

Satan will take whatever your pastor thinks he is good at, and he will pick at it until your pastor no longer has any part of his job that he feels capable of doing.  

First Satan will make your pastor question his abilities.  

Then he will make your pastor question his place in the community.  

Then he will make your pastor question his role in his family.  

Then he will make your pastor question his faith.

He will pick, pick, pick, pick, pick like the most annoying of little brothers.  

A little poke here...a bigger poke there.

Your pastor needs a vacation just as much as anyone else.  He takes a vacation, but without a doubt, a death or hospitalization will delay or cancel his plans.  Satan says, "Oh, you are tired?  You need a little break?  Well, let's see what I can do about that..."  There's a little poke.

Your pastor thinks he has a great sermon written, and he planned and read and studied.  Sunday comes and the delivery doesn't go the way he thought it would - something doesn't click.  Satan says, "Yeah, you thought you were pretty good at this preaching thing, didn't you?  You are so prideful.  God doesn't love pride.  God hates pride.  God hates you."  There's another poke.

Your pastor struggles to find the most gracious and loving way to explain closed communion to a visitor, and then watches that person storm out of church before even joining for a moment.  Satan says, "You can't grow this church.  Look at you.  That person just left.  You failed God."  Poke.

Your pastor has given of his time and energy repeatedly to a lost sheep, and then he receives a letter about their intent to take their names off the membership.  Satan says, "Yeah, I got another one.  Me - 1.  You - 0."  Poke.

Your pastor tries to be a "normal guy" and talk about enjoying a beer during the game, and then he finds out that a wayward member thinks he's a drunk.  Satan says, "Well, aren't you?  I mean, you did have one beer three weeks ago..."  I don't think I need to say it, but...POKE!

Satan will wear your pastor down with his shear focus.

And on what is Satan's focus set?

On making your pastor know he is not capable of being a shepherd to the people God gave him.

Because if he can get the shepherd, the sheep are just waiting to be devoured.

You see, there are no jobs comparable to that of being a pastor.  There are many reasons for this, but I think the biggest is because Satan is literally battling against faithful pastors.

He already had his chance with THE SHEPHERD, and he lost in the most humiliating of ways.  So, now he turns his focus onto the weaker undershepherds - the ones who are full of their own sin and guilt, the ones who know better than anyone what they have done wrong, the ones who are charged to preach the Law and Gospel to others while deeply needing it preached to them.  

If Satan is not battling against your pastor, you should find yourself a new pastor.  

In some careers, Satan will give a lot for a person to succeed.  He wants to give people a reason to believe they don't need a Savior.  

As a faithful pastor, Satan wants nothing but failure and despair.  

So, what can you do?  

You can pray for your pastor.

For his family.

For his faith.

For his strength.

You can speak well of your pastor.

Of his family.

Of his faith.

Of his strength.

Your faithful pastor needs you.  He needs your prayers and your presence.  

There is no doubt in my mind - 

Your pastor will fail you at some point.

He may be on vacation when you need him.

He may flop on a sermon.

He may speak unlovingly to someone.

He may lose track of a lost sheep.

He may have one too many drinks.

When he does this, remember what he told you in that sermon the other day - 

Christ takes on your sins,

Christ hangs on a cross for your guilt,

Christ is the fulfillment of every single law,

Christ sheds His blood for you,

Christ buries you with Him in Baptism,

Christ forgives you - 

     And say it right back to him.  He needs to hear it.

Womanhood: The Waitress with Ten Arms

When I was an art major in college, we had an assignment to create a three dimensional self-portrait.  A fellow classmate of mine made a wooden and metal upper body with ten arms.  She was a waitress at the time, and she felt like that was a good representation of a balancing act of life for her.  Each arm carried a different load, and all were working jobs unknown to the others.

I don't remember many art projects from college.  I barely remember what I made, nevertheless, someone else's.

But this image has stuck with me throughout my life.  I keep feeling like the waitress with ten arms.
Only I have two.

And although I think any woman at any stage in life with any amount of challenges and blessings could honestly feel like the waitress with ten arms, I certainly know that the ones with small children feel that way.  Each of my children take two arms in and of themselves.  My husband deserves two, as well.

Even if I was nothing else in the world, I would already have eight of my arms occupied.

The phrase I hear all too often - "Boy, you have your hands full!" - is actually pretty accurate.

Recently, I have really been struggling to find a balance in my life.  As my eight arms were flipping around caring for those I have been given, my other two were full of a smartphone and a social network.

The more I told myself I needed those things to be a better mom, the more I made up excuses to let them be the arms I went to quickest.  Like any addiction, I found ways to tell myself it wasn't an addiction.

"I deserve a break.  I work hard."
"If I just escape here for a few minutes, I will be a better mom later."
"There are people out there that need me.  I am just doing this for them."

There is a little truth in every excuse.
I do deserve breaks.
I do work hard.
I am a better mom when I take them.
There are people who benefit from my use of social networks.

But I just kept using those two arms to help me avoid the challenges I was facing with the other eight.

And as long as one of those arms was holding a smartphone, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop interrupting my life to live my virtual life.  So, I did something drastic.

I bought a dumbphone.
It makes calls.
And it tells me the time.

It is so boring my hand doesn't even hold it anymore.  Sometimes I go places without it!  GASP!

I am not as accessible to my friends and family on facebook because of this decision.  I am not as supportive, because I don't know everything going on.  I lack in my updates for those who love to know about my life.  In these ways, I am less of a friend.  I struggled with that decision.

In the end, I had to realize that there is an order of the importance of my vocations.  All vocations are important, and certain ones take precedence over the others.

I am a wife and mother before I am a friend.
And although I wanted to perfectly fulfill all my vocations, I knew that by trying to pay equal attention to all of my arms, I was actually not paying enough attention to any of them.

Now, I have a free hand where my smartphone used to be.
I use it to push the swing at the park a little longer and soak in the moment.
I use it to cook a beautiful dinner for my husband without sharing it with the world.
I use it to take breaks that are actually refreshing to me.

I am no saint.
My dumbphone does not make me a better mom.
I still choose other things over the vocations God has given me.
I still want to sneak away when it gets tough and melt away into endless updates from the social media world.

And sometimes I do that.

On this side of eternity, I will always be the waitress with ten arms.  I will always choose the arms that are best for me and not best for another.  I will always find ways to mess up the gifts God gives me.

I am thankful my joy and my self-worth has nothing to do with my SELF.
It has everything to do with the Man with two arms stretched open wide and nailed to a cross.

Womanhood: The True Thing to Fear

There are a lot of things to fear as a woman.  There are a lot of things to fear as a mother.

I know a lot about fearing things.  

I make fearing things my job.

I fear my kids being abducted.  I fear getting run over while getting our mail.  I fear someone breaking into our home in the middle of the night and killing us.  I fear being mugged.  I fear posting photos of my children online because of predators tracing them and hunting us down.  I fear my husband being killed.  I fear my children will fall right through the screens of our new windows.  I fear my toddler tripping into the toilet and drowning.  I fear my baby will get some sort of strange infection from all the bizarre things I find her eating.

I fear some pretty ridiculous stuff.  I could go on all day here, but I think you get the point.

And why do I fear these things?  Well, mostly because I have heard of it happening to someone.  Do I know these people it has happened to?  Some yes, but mostly no.

The truth is our world is scary, sure, but I can't change that fact.  Is it likely any of these things will happen to me?  No, not statistically.  Is it possible?  Yes.  

I used to joke with my mom that she was Worry Wart 1, also known as WW1 at our home.  My sister quickly took on the WW2 name as she became a mother when I was 11.  We all truly saw WW3 in the making with me.  Its in my blood to worry.

I presume it is in yours, too.  

This world is backwards that way.  It trains us to fear ridiculous things so we stop fearing the truly fearful ones.  The media blasts us repeatedly with the same story of the child who drowned.  Lord, have mercy on that child and family.  Is it likely mine will drown, too?  No.  

But now I have good reason to lay awake at night fearing it. 

The reality is I should fear the loss of their faith much more than I fear the loss of their body.

That sounds a whole lot more holy than I can be, though, in this sinner's body.  Lord, have mercy.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation;

whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life;

of whom shall I be afraid?"

Psalm 27:1

The world is changing, sure, but sin has been here since that first bite of fruit in the garden.  It really isn't any more dangerous than it was then.  We just happen to be more informed of the dangers surrounding us.  

As Christian women, we are even more informed of these dangers, because we know sin.  We see sin.  We recognize, through Christ, what we should truly fear.  We do this because we are baptized into Him.

It may be in my blood to worry, but it is in Christ's Water and Word to lay it on Him.

A very wise pastor friend of mine shared the prayer below as a help in my life.  

It is my prayer that it will serve you, as well.

O most loving Father, You want us to give thanks for all things, 

TO FEAR NOTHING BUT LOSING YOU, 

and to lay all our cares on You, knowing that You care for us. 

Strengthen me in my trust in You amid the fears of this life which are many. 

Grant that the anxieties of this troubled life may not separate us from Your love shown to us in Jesus Christ and Grant that Your strength is made perfect in our weakness through Him who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  

AMEN.

Reality: My New Vocation

I am a wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, godmother, friend, neighbor, church member, and probably a few other vocations I am missing.  God gives me vocations to serve others.  He gives others vocations to serve me.  It is a wonderful little set-up we have going.  God is pretty awesome that way.

But I must admit, I am struggling to find room for a new kind of vocation - the facebook friend.

You are probably in this vocation, too.  It would be too far to say you are friends and too little to say you are strangers.  You are facebook friends.

I already struggle with my empathetic heart.  I hurt when others hurt.  I wake up in the middle of the night and cannot sleep because I am thinking about other people's stress.  Seriously.  And like all people, I have enough stress of my own to keep me awake at night.  What do I do with all this facebook friend stress?

And if you are one of my facebook friends, believe me, this is not against you.  This is just a very honest and very real description of my desire to find a way to shoulder some of your burdens while maintaining my other 20 vocations in which I am much more actively involved.

Twenty years ago I wouldn't even have known about your burdens because I wouldn't have the ability to know your life.  Now I am awake at night because of them.  This is a blessing and a curse.  God has blessed us with the technology to be informed and involved around the world.  What a glorious blessing!  But like all technological blessings, we must figure out how to use them according to His will.

And it is not just figuring out how to bear burdens in this vocation, it is figuring out when and how to be involved in discussions.

Do I engage in this political conversation?
Do I share my belief about that comment you just shared?
Do I have enough impact on your life to even make a difference?
Will my words sound harsh?
Do I have enough energy to keep reading about why you think something is right when I think it is wrong?

Sometimes, dear facebook friend, you make me really mad.  You post something so shocking to my core that I am unable to respond in a few printed words.  Then, I carry guilt that I didn't get involved.

Man, I am a mess.

About once a month I consider leaving facebook.  I would probably be a little more put together if I did.  My other vocations would probably be more fulfilling if I did.

Of course, my mother and mother-in-law would be distraught.
So, instead I try to find the best way to fill my role as facebook friend.

When I read your status about your breaking heart, I can quickly say, "Lord have mercy."  I can pray that God grant you faith and health.  I can speak to God on your behalf even though I barely know you.  When I wake in the middle of the night, I can pray the Psalms for you.  I can name you in my nightly prayers with my family.

Sometimes I name you so often that my toddler sons begin naming you.
Prayer is contagious that way.

When you challenge my core beliefs with a 20 word status, I can pray God give me the right words or help me to be silent when needed.  I can show you love and truth at the same time.  I can put the best construction on your words and choose to respond in a manner suited to the situation.

But dear facebook friend, I will fail you.  I will have anger for you.  I will stay silent when I should have spoken.  I will speak when I should have stayed silent.  I will make comments that are inappropriate.  I will fail to put the best construction on your words.  I will covet your life.  I will fail to pray for you.  I will feel exhausted by your burdens.  I know all this even before it happens.

I will say it again - I am a mess.  A mess of sin.  A mess of guilt.  A mess of a facebook friend.  We all are.

We are all a big mess of every vocation God gives us, and yet, somehow He keeps serving others through us.  He takes this ragtag group of facebook friends and speaks truth in love.  He gives thousands of dollars to those in need through facebook giving campaigns.  He fills our dark world with the Light of His Son.

And He chooses to use us to do it.

Thanks be to God for the vocation of facebook friend.
And even more thanks be to God for Christ fulfilling our vocation for us.