My Thoughts on Men

"Consider the target: women in their greater physical

weakness and emotional sensitivity are the target

for cruel and arbitrary assault.  The dishonor of women

runs like a dark polluted stream through history,

and all women have in some way been impacted

by it.  Misogyny is a universal blemish

on the face of woman."   -Andrew Comiskey

When I look around at the world, all the problems we face today seem to boil down to one source: men.  Think about it.  Men are ISIS, men are Al Qaeda, men are Boko Haram, men are warlords.  Men are in seats of power all over the world, arguing with each other over who has the bigger throne. Men are the oppressors of women, children, and minority groups under the guise of religion, law, and brute force.  It's hard to imagine women inventing prostitution, racism, fast food, or sweat shops.  War and all its various horrors are clearly the handiwork of men, since it is men determining when a country invades or attacks another, men who lead troops of other men to the front lines, men who created and deploy bombs, drones, and artillery. (Just in case you think I have pink blinders on, yes, women also fight.  But we like to do our damage in close range, so we can see the hurt we inflict and watch the life drain from the eyes of our enemies.  We're satisfied with sharp spears, even if they only take shape in our words.)

Not to mention, men, how you make your families vulnerable when you abandon them, leaving women to serve as both mom and dad to the children you create but refuse to raise.  Single mothers are working to sustain the family and also totally responsible for the emotional nurture of their kids.  All of that is too much for one person.  So young women grow up never knowing love and affirmation from their fathers and seek out replacements in the form of abusers and takers.  Not to mention that the young men who are drawn to fundamentalist hate groups grow up in homes without fathers.

And so I stand in judgement, blaming men for all these problems and more, but still I hold a candle of hope.  Because what stands between me and my burning hatred for the world's injustices are five guys offering a glimpse of what men are supposed to be.  I am fortunate to be surrounded by men who love me well, who uphold the often forgotten practices of fidelity and service, who embrace the strengths of masculinity without exhibiting the flaws of their gender.

I grew up in a home with both my mom and my dad, and my dad has always told me that I can do anything.  He took me to the library and let me get any books I wanted (I was at the library with my kids recently and overheard a dad tell his daughter to just get one book...I wanted to inform him that they are free and shouldn't be limited, but I held my tongue).  He taught me to play basketball and explained the rules of football as we watched games together.  He told me I was beautiful, even when the mirror seemed to contradict him.

Because of how I was raised and the kind of man my dad was, when I became an adult and looked for a partner in life, I found a man very similar in Chris.  He appreciated and loved me from the start, not perfectly (for there is only One who loves me perfectly, and I'm still trying to wrap my mind around who He is) but well.  I knew that he would be the kind of father I wanted my kids to have, and I believed he would be a husband who would honor and cherish me for the rest of his life.  So far, I haven't been wrong.

Together, we created two lives.  How I desired for those children to be girls, to raise them to be fierce, awesome women who don't take crap from anyone, pursuing truth and justice.  But God in His infinite wisdom gave me sons.  Even when we stepped outside our gene pool, still a boy was the one we got.  So instead of raising warrior daughters and feeding them misandry along with my breastmilk, I am becoming tenderized daily to the beauty of my boys.  I love them, not in spite of the stink of their farts or the messes they make, but because of them.  I am learning to take delight in their feats of strength and enormous appetites, their stubbornness and their desire to lead.  (Even the three year old the other day demanded that I follow him, instead of the other way around.)  I feel so strongly the duty I have to these boys, to show them what a woman is.  She is strong (as I chop down trees and move furniture).  She is soft (as I cuddle their growing bodies and give comfort to their boo boos).  She is smart (as I help with homework and teach them new things).  She is brave (as I kill spiders and engage in plastic sword fights).  She is loving and worthy of love (as we live this life together, taking care of each other).  And oh, I can see the men these boys will grow into.  I can see them taking jobs as teachers and police officers, helpers and public servants.  I can see them falling in love with strong, courageous women and creating families of their own.  I can see them doing the hard work of love (because if they don't, if they try to bail, their father and I will drag them back home no matter what).

And so my candle of hope burns into the night.  What if the tide is turning?  What if men and women together could bring healing to this earth, if we could set things right?  What if our men stood in their rightful places as protectors and providers instead of being pimps and power-hungry?  What if we loved so boldly that we fought back against terror and injustice?  What if all our children grew up in families where fathers were present and active, because they didn't bail, because they didn't die in an unjust war, because they knew what really mattered in life?  If we could do this, then we could all live free, men and women together.

Thanks to my guys, for being the persistent flame on my candle.

Behind Every Strong Woman

My friend wrote a blog for my husband yesterday.  Not because she is lusting after him, but because she sees what he does for me and she wanted to affirm him in the way he likes most, words.  Because this past weekend, he sacrificed at home so that I could serve publicly.  He kept the children (not just ours, but a stranger's child too) and cleaned the house and had dinner waiting for me when I got home.  He sat and listened to my stories and kept the teasing to a minimum about this thing that gets me so excited.  What he did enabled me to do what I did.

I wanted to brag about my husband and tell all the single ladies to marry a man who will stay home with the children so you can lead...but then I realized that's not what I did.  We have been married for almost 10 years, and this life that we are currently in was nowhere near our radar when we first began.  I wasn't looking for a man to support me as I stepped up to the microphone.  I had no intention of gathering women and living out my calling.  I didn't have a goal or a launchpad or a dream.

No, ten years ago I chose to marry a man who loved me for who I was (although neither of us really "knew" each other the way we do now, so many years and life-changing experiences later), a man who made me laugh, a man who was committed to making our marriage work and last, no matter what the cost.  And let me tell you, neither of us knew how much it would cost.  We signed a blank check to make our marriage strong and sometimes it shocks me how steep the price can be. (Forgiveness folks.  It is expensive.)

And that is how we jumped.  Not knowing what was coming ahead.  Not partners in some grand plan, just partners in life.  I told him I wanted to live an adventure, and he said, "You got it.  Adventures in a Single Income Household!"  He wasn't kidding.  I did not know what he would stand by my side through, but I knew he would stand by my side.  My husband is a man who says, "I think you can do it.  I think you should do it."

So ladies...if you are already living your dream, if you have already stepped from scared to courageous, then find a man who will live that dream with you.  Find a man who will handle all the "little" things at home so you can do "big" things in public.  But if you are single and like me, unsure what this life holds for you, then find a man like Chris at 22.  Find someone who thinks you are AMAZING...just the way you are.  Find a man who will love you so passionately that your passion becomes his passion.  Find a man who makes you laugh, because the dark days will come, and looks will fade and money will come and go, but laughter will always be there and it will carry you through.  Find a man who never tires of holding your hand.  Find a man who never tires of cheering you on, no matter how much doubt and fear fill you.

And single guys...my guess is that you're single because you're not that guy.  You're not brave enough to leave selfishness in the dust and leap into the great unknown with a hot lady.  You're not secure enough to praise her without first receiving praise.  You're not silly enough to make jokes when the car is broken down and the kid is sick and the 12th rejection letter arrived.  You aren't humble enough to be at home while she moves mountains.  But here is the good news: You can change.  You can grow up.  You can be the kind of man who helps a strong woman stand.  You can be the only one she wants to come home to.  You can be the strong arms that hold her through the storms and you can be the faithful one when all else seems to disappear.

For Chris, who is my shield and my heart, my supporter and my husband.  Thank you for being my partner through all that has passed and all that is yet to come.

To my boys

Today I am praying for you.  I am thinking about a time in the near future when you won't be chasing each other around the yard and climbing into my bed in the early morning to start the day with cuddles. A time when you will be men.  White American men.  Because of this-where you were born and the color of your skin- many doors will be open to you, and you alone.  And so today, I'm praying.  Praying that you will recognize the arbitrary nature of privilege, that you will see those open doors not as a right, but an opportunity.  I want you to walk in to those exclusive places, places that are barred to a woman like me, or your friend in the wheelchair.  I'm praying that when you do, when you take your seat at the table, you will start a revolution that changes this world from the inside out.  I want you to teach inclusion and love, create opportunities and throw the doors wide open.  I'm praying that your lives will intersect with people who are different from you, and you'll have the chance to embrace and celebrate the human spectrum.  Because they will judge you and assess you and rank you based on your outside (all the things about yourself that you can't control), I'm praying for your insides, the part you get to choose.  I'm praying that you will use your strength to protect.  I'm praying that courage will come to you when you need it most.  I'm praying that you will think for yourselves.  I'm praying that your hearts will break when you see injustice, and you'll turn heart break into action.  I'm praying that you'll measure success in the number of lives you change.

And I'm praying that right now, today, your dad and I are preparing and equipping you for what lies ahead.  I'm praying that I will remember the big picture and not be caught up in making sure you wash your hands and tie your shoes (those things are important and worth doing, but they aren't the most important thing I can teach you).  That matching socks and washing dishes won't distract me from the job that matters most- being your mom.  Your dad and I want so badly to get it right, this job of being your parents.  We want to avoid the mistakes our parents made with us (I know, your grandparents are AMAZING people, and you love them more than us sometimes, but once they were stressed out parents and occasionally they went about things the wrong way), because we know what our baggage looks like, and we don't want to see you boys struggling to carry this with you through life.  But we will make mistakes too, probably different ones, and I'm praying that you will be able to overcome whatever wrongs we inflict on you.  When I studied history in college, when I learned of the atrocities that human beings are capable of committing against each other, I couldn't believe how much is actually carried out by the ordinary masses.  That a handful of evil people can lead entire tribes or even countries to annihilate one another. And I have to believe that people capable of being swayed to violence and hatred can also be swayed to love and compassion...but someone has to do the leading.  Boys, you could be the ones.  You could change the world.  I love you.  I believe in you.

Child Abuse: Why?

I have little kids who are still learning how to communicate.  It's exciting to hear them finally express themselves verbally, to hear what they are noticing and thinking and what is important to them.  It's also really cool when they finally answer my questions.  Who hit you?  (Winston) Where did you get that?  (from your closet) What's in your mouth?  (that candy you were trying to hide) But then I ask WHY? and they are still not sure how to answer that.  (Winston, WHY did you hit her? To make the little girl cry.  Really? Because that's kind of psycho.  We need to work on that, buddy.)  And it is a daily frustration to get some of the information, but still have this nagging WHY that goes unanswered.

Child abuse is like that.  We can say What happened.  We can prosecute Who did it.  We can avoid returning to Where it happened.  But many of us are left with this question: Why?  My very young brain tried so hard to answer this question in the silence.  If I had reported it, maybe some adult would have helped me figure it out, but I didn't speak of it, and so I tried to make sense of it on my own.  Was there something wrong with me?  Something that made him target me?  Was it luck, or, more accurately, a lack thereof?  As I got older, the world unknowingly provided other possible answers.  Was I asking for it?  Was I doing something unconsciously that drew his attention?  Maybe if I had fought or yelled, would he have left me alone?

Here's what I've come to realize in the past few years, although maybe the Why can never be completely put to rest...it happened because I was little and he was big.  It happened because we were alone, probably by design.  It happened because he was pretty sure I wouldn't tell.  Maybe he tested me in other ways beforehand, pushing the limits, seeing if bit him and ran off screaming or became still and quiet.  It happened because this world that we live in feasts on the souls of children, and there aren't enough good people to stand up and defend them.  It happened because there is darkness all around.

This can't be how it goes.  Do you know how to get rid of darkness?  SHINE A LIGHT.  That's something else I've learned recently.  So here's a new question, a much more relevant one than Why?  We need to ask How?  How do I shine my light?  How do I stand between a child and someone who means them harm?  Start by being the safe person.  Don't hurt kids.  Remember when you speak to them and look at them and care for them that they are PRECIOUS.  Ask yourself if you would be doing this if someone else were with you.  I started with the two children I gave birth to.  I vowed to be their safe place.  That expanded to another son who joined our family through adoption, and a girl who lives with us through foster care.  Then we added some kids in our neighborhood.  Now it pretty much includes every kid whose name I know, whose path crosses mine.

Our little girl told me last week about a fight she witnessed, about a man hurting a woman, even though the woman yelled stop.  She said, "He has strong arms, so he punched her."  But that's not okay, I told her.  Just because he could doesn't mean he should.  Do you understand? (please tell me you understand, please tell me that you won't let someone treat you that way someday, please let this one thing be what you remember from your time with our family)  And she said, "My daddy  (Chris) has strong arms, but he swings me around.  I like that."  Yes!  Not all men hit.  Strength shouldn't be used to oppress, it should be used to protect.  I'm so glad that she made that connection.  I'm so glad my husband can show her what a good man looks like.  And I hope she can realize Why.  Why he chooses to use his arms to hug and hold and embrace and defend.  Because Jesus did it first.

On Your 31st Birthday

On our way to Prom, 2001

If you met your husband when you were both 17, you may be so impressed with the person he has become by 31 that you have to wonder if he's the same person.  Because you remember that boy who made your insides vibrate when he looked at you, talked to you, made you laugh.  You remember how strong his pull was, that you just wanted to be around him all the time.  And then your flirtation became a Relationship, and you went from being two lovely, perfect creatures to real people with flaws and differing points of view.  And you watched him spend his graduation money on CDs at Best Buy, and then hide them under his driver's seat because his mom would lecture him about it and you wondered if someday you would be the one he would hide things from under the driver's seat.  And he made friends with a ridiculous group of guys at college, and you were grateful for the distance because it meant you didn't have to go with them on group outings and when he told you stories about them over the phone he didn't see how many times you rolled your eyes.  And you wondered if they would ruin him, this sweet boy who gave you the cherry off his ice cream sundaes and waited weeks to kiss you, who wrote you silly poems and insisted that you had to have A Song because all couples have A Song, and when you decided on one you both liked, he preferred the one from the Notting Hill soundtrack and you were adamant that it had to be the Alison Krauss version.  So you weighed these things, the douchebag friends and the daddy issues and the conflict avoidance and the fact that he was really cute and had a nice car and loved you and when he held you it was like the earth shifted so that everything was right at last.  You didn't know which was more important and you wanted it to be like a math equation, except math was always your worst subject and this wasn't an algebra test, this was real life, this was maybe the most important decision ever, whether to fall head over heels or turn and run.  And then suddenly, it wasn't a choice anymore, it was inevitable that your life was going to merge with his, and so when he got down on one knee, you barely listened to everything that he said, you just waited for that question so you could say YES!  And then the day came when you said your vows, you were both still so young, but you'd been to weddings where the bride and groom were both younger than you, and it made you feel like you were old getting married at 22.  And it didn't take two weeks before you realized just how vulnerable you had made yourself, that you had given this person your life and your heart and he could destroy you completely.  And every time you passed one of those billboards for "when a diamond isn't forever", you prayed that you'd never have to call 1-800-DIVORCE, that you would treat each other as tenderly as the cake you placed in each others' mouths in that rented hall as everyone looked on.  Because he was still a boy, so much so that when you opened a drawer to put your clothes with his you found a note from his mom that said "Don't forget to shower and put on deodorant" and you couldn't believe that the person who held your heart had trouble remembering something so basic.

First Father's Day 2007

But you built a home together, one that was filled with garage sale furniture that you proudly brought home in your tiny Saturn, and the Dave Matthews posters decorating your bedroom, and the ceiling above the bathtub that caved in so you could wave up to the couple who lived upstairs and fought constantly until one day the lady was gone and it was silent up there and the ceiling was fixed and you didn't see anyone anymore.  And you learned together, and when he got the call that his aunt died, you knew that as much as your heart was breaking, his was breaking worse, and so you held it together and packed his black pants and sport coat and held his hand.  And when you peed on that stick and the two pink lines popped up, and you felt dizzy and sick and completely overwhelmed, he hugged you and insisted on going out for steak to celebrate because this was Good News, and he held it together while you puked and cried and threatened to shove a peanut butter sandwich down his throat, so help me God I wanted crunchy peanut butter, not creamy, and he drove to Taco Bell at 1am because you just had to have a crunchy taco (what was with the crunchy cravings?).  And when you held that baby in your arms, that life that you created together, you looked at him and didn't see a boy anymore, he had somehow become a man, a father, and he took that title so seriously and went to work without complaining anymore, and said, Yes of course you should be home with the baby, I'll make the ends meet all by myself, and suddenly you were home owners and he was cleaning out gutters and mowing the yard.  And you tried not to be surprised every month when he paid the bills on time, but it was still hard to believe that he was prioritizing the mortgage over a new Playstation.  And then another baby came and he shocked you even more by cleaning the bathroom without being asked and he learned to cook really good food and suddenly he was switching from Sports Center to the Food Network and was so confident and in charge.  And so you returned to the math equation, the listing of the good and bad, and his hair was disappearing every day, but so was Prince William's and if its okay for a prince then it should be good enough for the love of your life, and beyond the looks you noticed integrity and honesty and maturity, handling difficult situations and refinancing the house to get a lower interest rate and getting up in the middle of the night to clean up the kids' puke and then coming in and cleaning up your puke and you knew that you couldn't do it if the situation was reversed.  And he updates your phone and finds educational apps for the iPad, and even after all these years, he makes you laugh.  And when your car breaks down on vacation and your aunt dies and your sister moves across the country and the doctors say there is something wrong with your son, he holds your hand and there is no one you would rather be with when everything is falling apart.  And when your bank account is overflowing and your best friend comes for a visit and the flowers that you planted are blooming, there is no one you would rather be with.  And then you discover this common desire, this wish to give a child a home, and together you fill out the endless paperwork and go to the classes and then suddenly the phone is ringing and there is a baby for you, and together you nurse this little life and make him your own and you see that the love he has for the new child is just as fierce and strong as the love he has for the ones you made together.  And you hear him at night, tucking the kids in bed, praying with them, reading from the storybook Bible, and you know that he is sharing his deepest self with them.

Family picture 2012

You wonder.  Where is that 17 year old boy?  Of course he is still there in the face, if you Wooly Willy some hair back down his forehead and trim the beard back so its just a goatee, and when the radio station plays hits from the 90's, you see him in the man bobbing back and forth and rocking out to the songs you both loved from the time when you were falling in love.  And he's there in the laugh that still shakes his whole body and the earnest eyes that are all-too-often weary and frustrated these days, when the kids won't go to bed and the appliances need to be replaced and there aren't enough hours in the day.  And you realize that he needs to get away, to take a few days and relax, and so you book a cabin for two and you get your parents to watch the boys and once again you pack his bags because he is threatening to only bring a toothbrush and you know that the people you pass by on your little trip will definitely not want to be seeing all of that.  And you try to think of a way to let him know just how much he means to you, how much better your life is because he's in it, and you hope that he feels the same about you.  You hope he still sees glimpses of that 17 year old girl you used to be, the one who loved to watch movies and eat ice cream and laugh at all his jokes.  The one who always had a hard time saying the Real Stuff out loud, who never quite got the right tone of voice to say "I love you" and didn't know what to think of a boy opening doors for her and offering to hold her purse.

What I want my sons to learn

" Arrogance? Arrogance is looking at a girl in desperate need of help, looking at a friend who was committing an obvious felony and deciding what the moment called for was an impromptu porn shoot."  -Dan Wetzel

This is Ohio.  We are a people who love football.  No matter which school you matriculated from, odds are you spend your Saturdays in the fall watching Ohio State play.  Local high school teams sell season tickets to people whose children have long since graduated and moved away.  At what point does our fandom become hero worship?  And at what point does that undeserved reverence for teenage boys cross the line to criminal negligence?

"Drunk on their own small-town greatness, they operated unaware of common decency until they went too far, wrote too much, bragged too many times and, finally, on a cold Sunday morning, were hauled out of a small third-floor courtroom as a couple of common criminals."  -Dan Wetzel

As a mother of boys, as a woman, rape offends me.  Reading the sordid details of the Steubenville rape trial makes me want to puke, and then start slapping people.  The boys who saw a drunk girl as an opportunity.  The teenagers who made crass jokes and watched crimes being committed and did nothing.  The adults who supplied alcohol and looked the other way as children pretended to know how to handle the adult freedoms they'd been given.

"Later, Richmond's biological father, Nathaniel, also addressed the court and the victim's family, placing some of the blame for his son's actions on his own life troubles and being an absentee father.
'Everyone knows I wasn't there for my son,' Nathaniel Richmond said. 'I feel responsible for his actions. I feel highly responsible for his actions.'"  -Dan Wetzel

1. Sports and alcohol are mutually exclusive.  I hope my sons take in their father cracking open his Mountain Dew while watching the Browns.  I hope they see alcohol as a taboo until they are adults.  I hope they learn restraint and moderation.

2. Men of integrity.  Moreover, I hope they notice other things their father does.  I hope they see him driving the speed limit and correcting a waitress for leaving an item off our bill and returning library books on time.  These things may seem small, but they add up to a man who is full of integrity.  My husband is a blatant rule-follower, and I expect our sons to realize what a wonderful quality that is.  Then, when the big things, like teen drinking and what to do with a passed out 16 year old girl, come their way, they will know the right course of action.  They won't stand by, look away, or worse yet, join in on criminal behavior.

3. Family ties.  The only way I know to make sure my boys learn these lessons is to teach them.  To teach them each day by the way I live, by the woman I am, but also to say it OUT LOUD.  What must the parents of these boys be thinking tonight as their sons are preparing to spend at least the next year of their lives in juvie?  Are they wondering how it all went wrong?  Are they asking themselves why they never just said, "Don't slap your dick on a drunk girl?"  I plan to talk about sex with my boys many times.  About how it can be beautiful and sacred and uplifting when you join your life to another, and in that process your bodies become one.  About how teenagers often want to experience the momentary thrill of contact, but they aren't ready to commit to everything that comes after.  About how ultimately, the right woman for them will be one who is waiting for them, and they honor her and their maker and their parents when they wait until she comes along.  We will spend time together throughout their high school years.  We will have family game night and movie night and we will go on hikes and attend sporting events.  Maybe some of those nights will prevent them from attending out-of-control parties.  Maybe just hearing their parents talk about sex will make the whole idea repugnant to them until they are mature enough to make good choices.  Maybe that intentional time together will teach them to value every person they meet.  Maybe they will change the world by choosing differently than their peers.  I have to try.  I have to hope. Because today they're boys, but someday they'll be men.  And I don't want my sons to hurt your daughters.

 *Dan Wetzel quoted from his spot-on summary article:
http://sports.yahoo.com/news/highschool--steubenville-high-school-football-players-found-guilty-of-raping-16-year-old-girl-164129528.html