Feminism, Objectification, and the In-Between.

Lately I've been reading a book, who's title I'll refrain from mentioning, which has sparked lots of thoughts in my mind about feminism. The book takes a staunchly anti-feminism position, which for the most part I agree with- but I also think the writers take things a bit too far. Let's not forget that feminism is a ditch on one side of a the road, and there is a ditch on the other side which consists of the abuse, objectification, and demoralization of women. Our culture seems to call to us loudly from both of these ditches, sending a confusing and frustrating message to our girls and creating women who are equally overbearing and insecure... and also (dare I say it?) largely unhappy.

As Christian women I believe we are called, like Bunyan's Christian, to walk through the narrow pathway between these two lions (feminism and objectification), and it is with fear and trembling that I set out to teach my daughter how to do this. Of course the only real hope we have is to keep our eyes fixed on the light of the Word, as "a lamp to our feet and a light to our path."

One of the things that really bothers me about a lot of Christian literature on this subject is the vague idea that the ONLY place a woman can really fulfill her God-given identity as a women is in the home. I just don't see how this is supported in scripture. Single women can and should work. Women who are married without children may want to work and have every Biblical right to do so. Even women with children have no Biblical mandate to be home with them ALL the time. Literature supporting the idea that staying home with one's children is the source of all happiness for women paints a very bleak picture for those who can't live this way, either because of an unsaved husband, financial difficulties, or the inability to have children.

God does give directives for women in scripture, which every girl ought to begin studying as soon as she is old enough to understand. We should be nurturers, living with an attitude of service not just towards men, but towards EVERYONE around us. We should have gentle and quiet spirits. We should speak with the law of kindness on our tongues, and allow our presence to be a softening influence on society. We should accept our status as the weaker vessel, and we should not take up positions of leadership over men within the church. As we get older we should seek to teach and instruct younger women. We should look for ways to beautify and brighten the world around us. It is THESE things that make up my identity as a woman, and that allow me to find true peace in fulfilling the calling God has given me to do. In my case they happen to work themselves out within the sphere of home life, but let's not over-glorify that... true Biblical womanhood can also take place in an office, at college, in the mission field, or anywhere else that God may call a woman to go. We don't need husbands and children to be women after God's own heart!

I do hear this message from time to time in Christian culture, but not as much as I think I should. I can't help wondering if part of the reason our girls struggle so much with purity is because we put marriage on a pedestal where it does not belong. Don't get me wrong- it IS wonderful. I have found the greatest earthly joy I have ever known within the context of marriage and submission to a Godly man. But that is only earthly joy, and there is a joy still greater... the joy of knowing that "as He stands in victory, sins curse has lost it's grip on me- for I am His, and He is mine." Hallelujah! It is for THIS that we strive. Nothing else will ever fully satisfy- not even marriage, not even children. We waste too much time thinking we would be happy if only __________.

Of course the ditch on the other side of the road is thinking that there is no value in being a stay-at-home wife/mother, and I think this lie is just as damaging and destructive. You really have to be crazy to think motherhood is a demeaning roll, because it takes a ton of energy and strategic planning and brain power to make it all happen. I also find it strange that people don't see how deeply meaningful and wonderful it is, when you are literally THE biggest influence upon one or more human lives, which has a snowball effect beyond what we can even fully imagine.

So- I do plan to teach my daughter how to cook and clean and play hostess for a crowd. I will teach her to respect and admire women who thrive within the context of home life, but I will teach her to look forward eagerly to whatever God may have in store for her. I hope this will strike a good balance between the two extremes of our culture and allow her to find true contentment in the life God has for her. Oh, what a delicate, tricky business it is to be a woman these days... and yet what a wonderful calling!

Where did the muse go?

Well, here it is, late on a Friday night (yes, 10:00 is late for a pregnant momma), and I find myself all alone in a quiet house with nothing but my feelings to think about. I keep telling myself I won't get so personal in these blog posts, but it continues to be the only thing that drives me to writing at all anymore... so here I go. 

Something has been bothering me lately.

Something that I don't think most people ever think about when they ask me how my day was or what's going on in my life. I think they are distracted by the fact that I have an adorable one-year-old on my hip and a gigantic baby bump inside my belly. This is understandable to me. I also find that for some reason everyone things I'm the kind of person who never wanted anything more than to grow up and be a wife and mother. I don't take offense at this assumption (which has been verbally expressed to me a number of times recently) because I think it's a compliment in a way and I kind of do wish it was true... but it's SO not. 

Most of my life all I've ever wanted to do was write stories. When I first married my husband, we talked a lot about it because it was concerning to him how disinterested I was in the prospect of having children. And to take this confession further: I really don't like kids that much. I love my baby, because I can't help it... but it's not like I'm this sweet motherly person who's always looking for opportunities to nurture someone.  On principle I want a big family, but in practice it terrifies me to think of having a house full of loud, attention-needing, dirty little kids. They are cute, but they take up a lot of space and time and money. Especially time.

So now you see the selfishness that dwells deep down inside me. But aside from the prospect of being worn out all the time, I don't think these things would bother me so much if it weren't for my ambitions, which are becoming nothing more than a thorn in my flesh these days. I don't think it really matters much what those ambitions are, but having some sort of ambition is very, very important to me. Writing has always been something I could do, so I made it my ambition to become an author before I died, even if it was just a one-time deal. I've clung to that and worked towards that since I was a child. Having an ambition makes me feel like I'm a person unto myself, without needing to be defined by those around me. Perhaps this is also selfishness... perhaps it's worldliness. Perhaps it's just necessary. 

I always told myself I wouldn't let go of my writing, even after I got married and had children. I was absolutely sure if it... I'd seen other mothers give up on their "dreams" and succumb to the (I thought) soul-sucking reality of children-raising until it took over their lives completely. I would have none of it! 

Well, I didn't know a thing when I thought those prideful thoughts. Ever since Katara was born, I have spent hours every month sitting in front of a blank computer screen trying to force words onto a page, trying to craft a story which I care nothing about. I guess it didn't happen overnight, but every day I care a little less, until now, it's like I can hardly even force myself to read novels because I can only think about the pointlessness of the story. It's not real, it never was real... it can only have a minimal effect on anyone's life at best, and at worst will only serve to entertain and distract busy housewives like me.

This is SO depressing to me. I know I'm missing passion. Writing and reading used to be a wonderful escape for me because I was a wild young thing full of emotions and I could be swept away in a moment by a beautifully written scene on a page. And now I'm just sort of tired all the time, and my mind NEVER stops thinking about stupid little details- like how many ounces of formula Katara should be drinking at this age and how often the dog needs to be bathed. It's the curse of motherhood, I'm convinced- the inability to stop thinking. I even find myself getting caught up in the petty problems of others, trying to churn out solutions to transportation issues and food preparations that aren't even my responsibility to worry about. These things really don't matter at all in the end of the day. None of this does, except for pouring all the love and care I can into my children so that they will thrive in the world someday... and God knows I spend far too little time thinking about that.

I think if I never wrote again, I could be perfectly fine with that. It would be a relief, even, to release myself from that ambition. But then I wouldn't be anybody at all, except for Katara's mom and Danny's wife. This would drive me crazy, and not just because I want people to think I'm something special. I know I NEED something all my own to contribute to this world, even if it is stupid and petty compared to the high calling of motherhood. I long to be caught up in excitement for a project again, and to feel a sense of pride in the work I'm doing. 

What am I supposed to do here? Should I just drop my ambitions, and try to be content with the definite calling God has given me for right now? Should I keep pushing myself to write, even when it feels like trying to breathe life into a skeleton? Or should I try to find a new passion to keep me going when the days of diaper changes and meal plans get too long?

One thing I do know: there is no such thing as "just" a mom. I think it would be nice if the world at large learned to ask stay-at-home moms about their ambitions, because I'm pretty sure we all have them, even if they are so buried under our responsibilities they haven't seen the light of day in years. People don't exist just to keep the world running... we all like to make it a little more interesting along the way too. It is this which keeps us human. And we moms are human too, despite what our children (and culture) may sometimes think of us!

Sunday Reflections

Wow- it has been a long time since I've posted here!

Today was such a weird day. My sister was baptized at her church in a nearby town, which was a TREMENDOUS blessing to see. It is always so moving to see people walking in obedience to God and backing that up with such a public declaration of faith. And it is also always a blessing to go to sister churches and meet/reacquaint with other believers. Even just the little things done differently- the music, the order of the worship, and the decor in the sanctuary- can put new energy into worship.

Of course, that wasn't quite my experience today. My baby is a very good baby most of the time, and a terribly rotten baby the rest of the time. Today was the latter. Combine an unfamiliar setting, post-vacation exhaustion, and a forgotten pacifier, and I spent the entirety of Sunday School and morning service trying desperately to sooth a VERY fussy child. It reminded me of the days when she had colic and we would bounce and rock and sush her until we were at our emotional breaking points.

Thankfully my husband took over so that I could see the baptism and participate in communion, which was refreshing and wonderful.

I also got to hold an adorable eight week old baby today, who was so small I was convinced she must have been a premature newborn. Turns out she was a whooping eleven pounds... how quickly I'd forgotten just how tiny and fragile they are at the beginning! I felt like a total ninconpoop holding her, like I had no idea what to do.

All of this got me thinking... maybe the arrival of baby number two is going to be just a bit more stressful than I might have first thought.  This pregnancy has so far been devoid of any stress or apprehension whatsoever, and I already feel bonded to the little being swimming around inside me (something that didn't happen with Katara until days AFTER she was born). But there is a practical element of this addition to our family that is going to leave me twice- maybe three times- as exhausted and emotional as I already am. Today the weight of all that I'm giving up to be a mother is hitting me a bit harder than usual, and I can't help but wonder what other sacrifices are around the corner.

I think one thing I am learning is that I can no longer depend on anyone else to lead me to God. My husband does a wonderful job of leading us in family devotions, and I hear great preaching most Sundays, but the fact of the matter is I can't always be fully there when I have a baby to take care of, and even when the baby is taken care of sometimes I'm just not quite mentally or emotionally able to take in what I'm hearing. This means I have to seize every moment when I am free and clear-headed to go to God on my own, to study the scripture and maybe revisit some of the texts and topics that came up in other venues.

I have also been thinking a lot of the peace that comes from doing the right thing. When I am stressed and hormonal and exhausted beyond the reach of rational thought, my tendency is to throw myself upon the nearest source of strength- usually my husband- and look for any way out of the load I'm carrying. But usually that only leaves me feeling more miserable. It is far better to pray for strength, if not to triumph victoriously then only to plod on till the end of that moment, hour, or day without sinning. Asking myself what my Lord would do if He were in my shoes can spare me a lot of future regret. And at the end of it all, I may be a little more tired than I would be if I'd squirmed out from under it- but I will have that peace that passes understanding, which is far more important than any lightening of the load.

Not to say that a little load lightening is always the wrong thing! Or that it's not sometimes necessary to stop all together and admit that I am weak- maybe even to cry. As long as I am willing to get back up afterward and plod on!