Threats of Sexual Violence Should Not Be a Marketing Strategy ~ Jen

We don’t usually post on the weekends. But this is a huge issue for both of us. We prayed over it and felt directed to write this and publish it today.

There’s a shocking and crass commercial from the “non-partisan” but funded by the Koch brothers group Generation Opportunity, aimed at discouraging young adults from signing up for insurance under the Affordable Care Act.

It shows a young woman getting her first pap smear under “Obamacare”. While she is in the stirrups, the doctor leaves. A giant Uncle Sam rises from the corner and steps between her legs as the door slowly and ominously closes.

Yep, it’s a rape commercial.

I am not going to address this from a political perspective, because that’s been done. I want to speak to it as a Christian woman. Not the least because most of the employees listed on the website over at Generation Opportunity attended Christian colleges.

I’m going to assume that we all know our Bible, and that I don’t have to quote scripture here to make my points.

Our bodies, made in God’s image, are sacred space. If we are Christians, then that is the end of the story for us. It is never ok to exploit this sacred space, or make sport of violence against it. It is bad enough that sexual violence is so prevalent in our nation. But to use the threat of sexual violence as a tool of fear—to support a falsehood, by the way—is surely sin.

The commercial is clever, with its lilting circus music, designed to take the edge off. But darkness is often packaged in clever and distracting ways. And that’s what this commercial is—darkness. Generation Opportunity, and its sponsors, Americans For Freedom, are hosting darkness.

No matter how you feel about the Affordable Care Act, this cannot be acceptable to you. Not if we hope to have a loving, respectful kingdom of God here on earth. God-loving folk are the care-takers of this kingdom. We have a responsibility to protect it and its law, which is love.

The bible tells us “Let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding” (Romans 14:19). There is a way to have this argument, respectfully and peacefully. There is a way to bring light to the questions, instead of darkness. There is a way to reach an uplifting solution that respects the sacred space of everyone, as Jesus calls us to do.

But if we insist on treating universal health care as a game, with winners and losers, then let’s remember: women’s bodies are not the playing field; sexual violence is not the tool; win at all cost is not the goal.

There is only one rule: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13: 34-35).

I am including the link to the commercial here, with reservations. I don’t want to promote it, but I want you to know that it’s out there. If you have been a victim of sexual violence, you may want to skip it.

I am also providing the link to the Contact Page at Generation Opportunity, in case you feel so moved to let them know how you feel.

The Commercial: www.youtube.com

Contact Generation Opportunity: http://generationopportunity.org

Receiving Mode ~ Jen

Shea and I have a big decision to make. For three weeks we have been talking it around and around, with no success. Finally, at 11 pm the other night, when we had covered all the options and their pros and cons for the third time without coming to any kind of clarity, I told him that I couldn’t go in circles anymore.

“I know” he said. “We have to pray.”

I took a moment to bask in the warmth of that.

But then I reminded him it took me a year to hear the answer about having another baby. And that was all my fault. I wasn’t in receiving mode. I was praying, but not listening. I let all my own thoughts and worries fill my head and heart and drown out everything else. Finally, I got bored of myself, and stopped. And into that quiet space came my answer.

“So we have to go into receiving mode” I told him. “We can’t talk about it. We can’t think about it. Not chew on it. Not worry about it. Trust that the answer will come.”

Shea thought for a moment and then said “I like that analogy. Just wait for God to throw the bomb.”

I stared at him. What?

Then I started to laugh.

Because when I think receiving mode, I see this in my head:

And when he thinks receiving mode, he sees this in his head:

I know that God will meet us where we are, but I hope he has a spaceship. Because it’s roughly 75,000,000 miles from Venus to Mars.

God Blessed the Seventh Day ~ Jen

The Catholic Church is celebrating the Year of Faith. So I signed up for a daily dose of catechism. This one popped up a few weeks ago.

If Sunday is disregarded or abolished, only workdays are left in the week. Man, who was created for joy, degenerates into a workhorse and a mindless consumer. We must learn on earth how to celebrate properly, or else we will not know what to do in heaven. Heaven is an endless Sunday.

It’s referring to the Third (or Fourth, if you are a Protestant) Commandment. The biblical text is as follows:

Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.
Six days you shall labor, and do all your work;
but the seventh day is a sabbath to the LORD your God;
in it you shall not do any work, you, or your son,
or your daughter, your manservant,
or your maidservant or your cattle,
or the sojourner who is within your gates;
for in six days the LORD made heaven and earth,
the sea, and all that is in them,
and rested the seventh day;
therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and hallowed it.

The verse from Exodus references Genesis and the creation story:

And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. ³So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation.

Oh man, I have so many thoughts on how this is (not) working in my life. The last two weeks since this posted I have been chewing on it, with a side of my mom’s recent comment that we’re a pretty busy family, and my months long obsession with finding the exact right trailer for my family, which ate up a fair amount of weekends.

On Sundays, we go to church. We’re home by 10:30. And then it’s play time. Or shop time. Or clean the house because folks are coming for dinner time. It is rarely ever rest time.

And am I joy-full on Sundays? As I’m playing or shopping or cleaning and cooking, am I mindful of God and His day?

Sometimes, like when we head straight down to the beach after Mass, and have a lovely day playing in God’s ocean. On those days there is always a time when I utter a prayer of thanksgiving for the weather and the sun and the salty sea water.

Sometimes, like last Sunday, when I sit next to my dad and watch my kids play with their grandma in the pool. On those days I am filled with the joy of loving family and memory-making.

And sometimes, when I have managed to get every single chore done by Saturday so that Shea can lay on the couch and watch his Bills in peace and quiet while I write or read or watch a movie with the kids, I am joyfully grateful for the rest.

But those Sabbaths happen far too infrequently. Too many Sundays are spent at the mall, where I can score $100 worth of clothes for $60. I feel victory and satisfaction, but not joy. And I am certainly not mindful of God while I am bargain hunting.

Then I realized this: every car we have bought as a couple has been purchased on a Sunday, which means we have haggled and hassled and played good cop-bad cop on the Sabbath. I’m trying to screw you before you can screw me mode is neither joyful nor restful, and it’s impossible at those times to be mindful of anyone but your own self.

So the truth is, too many of our Sabbaths have been rushed and crammed and cranky and mindless.

My spirit is itchy, which means we are out of Alignment and need a change.

I want to be better at honoring this Commandment. What can we do in our family to both honor the Commandment and instill in our kids the wonderful knowledge that God, in His wisdom and love, has commanded us to rest and be joyful.

I want Heaven to be an endless day on the beach at Coronado. Not endless hours of haggling with a used car salesman.

So if you’ve got thoughts, I’ve got ears. How do you keep and bless this day in your homes?

Cosigning

Since we’re clarifying things about ourselves, it’s time for another one. A big one.

We love the truth. Not our perception of it, but the actual Truth. We hold each other and ourselves to a pretty big standard of truth over here, and we have found that the easiest way to do that is to simply not tell lies. So we don’t. Even when it hurts.

But the hard part is not to sign off on other people’s lies. Jen’s cousin, Lesley, calls this co-signing. Like co-signing on a loan:

If you cosign on that loan, you’re not going to get much out of it, no matter what. Your friend or family member is going to get the benefit of the loan. If they choose to stop paying the loan because the business doesn’t work out, that loan is around your neck. If they can’t repay that loan because of an unforeseen accident or something else, that loan is around your neck (www.thesimpledollar.com).

If you substitute lie for loan in that definition you’ll see where we’re coming from. Just as everyone tells people not to co-sign for someone on a loan, we believe that we shouldn’t co-sign for someone else’s lies. You might think, “It’s not my lie. If someone I love wants to live a lie, that’s on them.” But we all pay a price when we participate in lies, either actively or with our silence.

And there are all sorts of lies, folks. There are the big ones like hiding addictions. But then there are the more subtle ones like staying in a toxic relationship and ignoring the consequences.

One of the reasons this is such a big deal to us is that we have both done this work. We have both stepped out of the Nightclub Lighting and taken a good look at ourselves in the harsh light of day. It hasn’t been pretty, and it hasn’t been easy. But here we are, on the other side. And we want to surround ourselves with people who have done the same.

We also want to surround ourselves with people who aren’t going to put up with our crap. If I’m co-signing on your lies, what are you co-signing for me? Are you going to tell me that I have spinach in my teeth, or are you going to let me go back to the office with a big green leaf right in front? Are you going to let me go home with that stranger at the bar, or are you going to stop me and demand that I respect myself better?

In the end, we have made the decision that we just don’t have time for secrets and lies in our lives. Lies, others’ or ours, take a lot of effort and energy to maintain. And you see, we’ve got these great husbands, wonderful kids, and amazing friends that we want to pour all of our love, time, and energy into.

And lies do damage to the liar. We want to be whole daughters of God, not perfect, but living our best lives. Every day.

But be prepared. If you decide to stand for the truth, at some point you have to say the truth. And we have learned that some folks aren’t prepared or willing to hear it. We have both lost a few friendships because of this. We’ve been called a bitch. We’ve been called self-righteous. We’ve been called judgmental. We aren’t trying to be any of these things. We need to stand in the light. We don’t let our sisters sit in the mud. Even when they think they want to sit there.

“We tell lies when we are afraid… afraid of what we don’t know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger.” ~Tad Williams

Nightclub Lighting ~ Jen

There’s no better lighting in the world than in a nightclub: shadowy, mysterious, forgiving. It is no mistake that nightclub lighting is a thing, because everyone looks good in nightclub lighting.

But then there’s this: you hit the darkened ladies room at the club, where you see that your hair and make-up look great after hours of dancing. Woohoo, I look like a rock star!

An hour later you get a good look at yourself in the bathroom mirror at home. In bright light, your smoky eyes look raccoonish, you’re wearing your friend’s orangey shade of lipstick by mistake and half your hair fell out of your ‘doo. Dang, why didn’t anyone tell me I looked like a mess?

Life can be like this too.

I lived my entire 20s in nightclub lighting, both real and figurative, so I know. I wanted to be shadowy and mysterious. No one really knew me. Including me. Lots of unanswered questions.

Eventually I realized two things: no one wants to marry a mystery and God wanted me to be my best real self. And yes, it was in that order. But whatever—I got there, is the point. I knew Nightclub lighting was not doing it for me if I wanted the things I wanted. I needed real, honest to goodness light. No shadows, no mystery.

I was 28 when I stepped out into the light. It wasn’t pretty. Tired eyes, wrinkles and extra pounds, both physical and spiritual. For a while, the light I stood in was harsh and unrelenting. Plenty of times, I wanted to look down or cover my eyes. But I knew that if I was going to be real, I had to face it. All of it. Not “my truth”. The Truth.

If I had tried to do this without God, I don’t know what would have happened. I guess I could have been a boat bobbing on the sea of self-help, searching for a philosophical port of call. I get why people do this. It’s the Wizard of Oz syndrome: If I make a lot of noise over here—on my social media, to my colleagues, in my relationships—then perhaps no will pay any attention to the real me behind the curtain. Including me.

But I was raised with God, so I went home to God, like the prodigal daughter that I was. I knew that God wanted me to be happy. I knew God wanted me to be married and a mom. It hadn’t happened because I wasn’t ready yet, and God is wise.

I stood in that bright light and looked at what parts needed work. I was rough, angry, loud. I was a big fish at work and it was making me cocky and disrespectful. I drank too much. I ate too much. I was complacent.

So I went back to Church. I started keeping a journal. I stopped drinking as much and started exercising more.

I changed jobs, which was humbling and knocked me out of my comfort zone. I needed that. It was a challenge.

I started a master’s program.

I tried to be more well-rounded. I stopped living at work, said no to unnecessary projects and didn’t feel guilty about it. I traveled more. I got a 403b and life insurance.

I acted like a grown up child of God. And slowly, the harsh light turned warm.

It didn’t happen overnight. I did my part. I worked hard. I didn’t become a perfect person—I still have sharp edges and motherhood has made me loud once again. But I know it now. I don’t run for the shadows to hide who and what I am. No matter how hard it is, I know what to do.

Stay with God. Stay with the Truth. Stand in the light.

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