Fear and Shame and the political divide

This is a post of political observations that will deal in generalities. So, please, spare me the anecdotes of cases where it doesn't hold true. Not hard fast rules, only observations about trends.

Both sides of the political divide, liberals and conservatives, claim moral superiority. And they go about trying to make converts by claiming that their side, and their side alone, takes the moral high road. The tools in this endeavor are fear and shame.

Example #1: Immigration.

Conservatives employ fear in order to control perceptions. If we are afraid of foreigners, we will reject them and protect ourselves. We'll be safer if we are more fearful. Such as this, now famous meme:

(I like this line from the movie The Tale of Despereaux, "Oh, Despereaux, this world is full of wonderful things to be afraid of, if only you realize how scary they are.")

Liberals employ shame to make people "do the right thing." The talking points create straw man arguments to make people feel badly for being heartless savages.  Religious people are at the top of that list. If you were truly a decent person you'd be more open, you jerk.

Example #2: Abortion.

Liberals employ fear. If pro-life legislation is passed, if a pro-life person is elected, if a pro-life judge takes the bench women will be victimized, there will be back-alley abortions and bleeding in the streets. Women will lose their autonomy and we'll all be relegated to being barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen again. 

On the flip side, Conservatives employ shame. Emotionally and morally charged language. Instead of women being victims and disenfranchised and scared and vulnerable, they are "mothers of a dead baby" and murders.

And the labels the groups are given are often, at least partially, misnomers. Pro-choicers are not pro-all-choices. Just check to see which democrats voted to take away the freedom of parents to choose whether or not their children are vaccinated. There's a serious war brewing in California as parental rights and choices are taken away by big brother. You can choose to have an abortion, but if that child is born alive you don't have a choice whether or not she gets the highly controversial Gardasil vaccine.

Pro-lifers are often not pro-all life (There are exceptions, such as socially active Roman Catholics.). Just look up which Republicans still support the death penalty. (see the UCSSB's pro-life prayer) Or the NIMB attitude as it applies to taking in refugees. (NIMB = not in my backyard) Sometimes pro-lifers are pro-birth or pro-some-life. It's a painful truth that we need to 'fess up to.

And you can see examples of this everywhere if you just take a moment to look at your Facebook or Twitter feed. Just today I logged in to see several of my friends post the same FB post that stated if you didn't join the "Women's March" you probably have never been the victim of a sexual crime, are not an ethnic minority, an immigrant or lack health insurance. Because if you have experienced any of these things, you'd support the march. Well, guess what? I have been a victim of sexual crime, I am an ethnic minority, my husband is an immigrant and I have actually never had health insurance in my life. I did not support the March. But, that's what I mean about claiming moral superiority. It's a false narrative. All the decent people on one side of the line and all the degenerate on the other.

I have found this past year that everyone wants to think that they take the high road and are open to people that are different than they are. Everyone wants to think they are comfortable with diversity.  It's always the other side of the aisle that is full of intolerant bigots. Until they encounter someone truly different, someone who doesn't support their pet causes, who does not see things the same way at all. Then the struggle gets real. I am no exception.

I have seen so many people this year unfriend and block people on social media or lash out at their neighbors that it breaks my heart. The media, the culture, the 24 hour news cycle perpetuates this fear and shame so that we feel quite justified in saying, "I'm done with you" as we paint with broad brushes and repost unnuanced memes and opinions. We feel vindicated to make "power of the people" to mean power against certain people.

But, what if....

What if we stopped using fear and shame as our primary motivators and the cornerstones of our arguments? What if when we encountered someone who is truly different we didn't shut them out, but we extended our hand instead? What if we could say, "You know, I don't see things that way, but I respect that you do. Would you like to discuss this sometime?" Make cookies. It always helps the awkwardness. 

The truth is that if we try to banish fear and shame there will be a vacuum. We have to replace it with something. 

I would suggest love and humility.

It's not easy. For anyone. And it's certainly not easy for me. I claim no moral superiority in this. To look into someone's eyes who not only is different but may be, in fact, antagonistic towards you and your way of life or deeply held beliefs, and to say, "I see in you someone made in the image of God and I choose to treat you according to that truth." Pour tea.  It helps the humble pie to go down easier.

I am not suggesting that you necessarily change your beliefs. I can tell you for certainty that you will not take my Christian faith from me. I am not just a Christian in name. It's part of my very DNA, I assure you. I am head over heels in love with Jesus. I can't turn it off. I broke off the switch long ago. But, I will share a meal with you and listen to you, even if you are Buddhist, Muslim, Atheist, or just plain not sure. My faith tells me that you are made in God's image and likeness, whether or not you acknowledge Him.

Humility goes a long way. St. John Chrysostom said, "Humility is the root, mother, nurse foundation and bond of all virtue." The book of 1 Peter in the Bible commands us to love each other deeply. Because love covers a multitude of sins.

Does walking in love mean that we never stand up for controversial causes or speak tough things? Of course not. Love must be tough as well as tender. But true love should give us the courage to carefully negotiate and live in the tension of truth and love. It's messy. It's painful at times. It's tricky. It's also beautiful. Speak the truth...in love.

As people of good will, can we move the cultural conversation from Us vs. Them to We Are All In This Together? Can we love through the differences and listen and speak up and be brave and be vulnerable and be true?

Fear and shame are motivators, but make a terrible foundation. Love and humility are really the only way.

Ganchimeg's Bat-Mitzvah and Birthday

 Our daughter just turned 12.  Which, according to Hebrew tradition, makes her an adult.  Beautiful and yet, sobering thought.  We've had 12 years to mold her character, to lead her to the Lord, to steward her experiences and help her to form her beliefs.  And now she stands before the Lord as a DAUGHTER OF COVENANT.  That's what Bat-Mitzvah literally means.  Bat: daughter.  Mitzvah: the commands of God.

To celebrate we asked Meg what she wanted.  To be sure she had definite ideas of how she would observe this special time of her life.  So between her ideas and ours, we had a weekend worthy of a daughter of the Lord!

It began on her actual birthday.  She invited only her closest girlfriends and women who she looks at as friends and mentors.  The theme of the party was actually planned by Gana and hidden from Meg until just moments before the party.  Gana worked late into the nights and in all his free time building her a Hope Chest.  The design and all the building and painting was done by Gana alone.

He presented it to her before the party.  She was so surprised and happy.  She's been wanting a Hope Chest for a while.

As the women gathered, they brought with them special contributions to the Hope Chest.  Heirlooms, antiques, presents with prophetic meanings, crafts they'd made by hand.  It was so moving as each lady presented Meg with a little piece of themselves that she can carry with her into her own womanhood.

Meg and her Titi

Hadassah, one of Meg's oldest friends

Me and my grandmother, who presented Meg with her own wedding Bible and a handkerchief that my Grandfather had given her before they even met face-to-face.  Yes, I cried.

A special gift from a grafted in Auntie.

The food was also all of Meg's choosing--CHEESE! Of many varieties!  Crispy fried goat cheese, homemade mozzarella sticks, port salut, blue, ricotta, several aged and stinky varieties.  Fruit and nuts and baguettes.  Sparkling cider with hibiscus flowers so we could toast pink!

 We celebrated Meg late into the night.  The next day, however, was the BIG DAY!  The day that Meg would make a public declaration of her movement from childhood to womanhood, receiving all the blessings of her parents, grandparents, god-parents and pastors.

On this day, men and boys were there to witness it as well as the women and girls.  It was a small intimate group of those that Meg chose as her spiritual mentors and fellow-journeyers.

Meg opened up the ceremony by quoting all of I Corinthians 13.

Meg was dressed in a beautiful dress from India, thanks to Auntie Micha.  Jewelry borrowed from Titi.  And an antique hair piece given her by Nina, a dear friend whose grandmother was a famous actress in India.  So special!

(In case you don't know Meg and are wondering at all the Indian stuff, well, it's like this:  When Meg was five years old she came to us and said something like "I had a vision.  And God told me I was going to go to India as a missionary."  And she has been unwavering in that statement these seven years.  She loves India.  She prays for India.  She is determined to go there and be the Mama Heidi of India.)

Then three of Meg's brothers serenaded her One Direction style!  What Makes You Beautiful, with a few lyrical changes to reflect Meg, her pink hair and how if she could see what God could see, she'd understand why the world needs her desperately!  It was hilarious and sweet!!!  Meg was properly embarrassed.  Mission accomplished, boys.

 Her pastors, Karl and Debbie, and god-parents couldn't be there that day, but they sent their prayers and blessings via YouTube, which we played next.

Then her grandparents gave their blessing to Meg.  Emee, Gana's mom, blessed Meg via YouTube (what a wonderful thing technology is!) and my parents spoke their generational and prophetic blessing over Meg's life.  I am a fourth generation Spirit-filled pastor.  So, Meg is the fifth!  That's a lot of blessings that come from a Lord who is faithful to bless those who seek Him to a thousand generations!

Papa washing Meg's feet.

Oh, our prophetic Nana!!!  She challenged Meg not to ask the Lord to fulfill her dreams, but rather that Meg ask God how she might fulfill His dreams!  AMEN!

Meg gave a speech, thanking those who have poured into her life and asking those present to keep her accountable for following the Lord and all His ways.

My turn.  Which meant get the ugly cry on.  I can't believe my little girl has come to this place in her life.  I thanked her, blessed her and laid out some of her new responsibilities and new privileges that come with growing into womanhood. 

When I started crying, of course, Meg started crying, too.

Daddy's turn!  I wish every little girl growing into womanhood could hear words from her father that Meg heard from hers.  The world would be a very different place if they did.  I'm sure of it.

Then we celebrated with Meg's celebration dinner of choice: Indian food and Russian cake!  

Some people have questioned why we do so many Jewish things, such as observing Passover and Shabbat and seasons of fasting.  And now we've undertaken to give our children Bar/Bat-Mitzvah.  No, we are not Jewish and no we haven't converted.  Rather, we are grafted in!  (Romans 11)  There has been such an amazing amount of blessing that has been poured out over our family through observing Hebrew and Biblical traditions.  We don't do it from a place of legalism at all.  It's all an overflow of grace!  

So, I guess you could say we gave our daughter a Gentile-Charismatic-Prophetic-Family Centered Bat-Mitzvah!

We felt it was important because in our culture today we don't mark times and seasons and much to our demise.  How many young people grow up and no one has ever declared them that they are men and women before God?!  No one has ever affirmed them and launched them into their destinies and callings.  Instead, so many young people wallow in doubt and second guess their place as a child full of promise.  And these young people grow up into adults who still feel as if they are sitting at God's kiddie table at Thanksgiving.

The Bible talks about two groups of people: children and adults.  There is no in-between stage called "teenager" where one is not accountable for their actions and are allowed to live in a self-centered way.  We try not to even use the word "teenager" around here.  Either you are a child or you are an adult.  (Which is why we don't usually do "youth group" type groups and activities.  Now that Meg is an adult, we expect her to participate in our faith--her faith!--as an adult and not as one who has a junior Holy Spirit.)

This last weekend we launched our daughter into being a full daughter of covenant.  She is moving from discipline to guidance.  Negotiating how to live her own life accountable before the Lord, seeking His face, following His ways, leading others to Him and finding ways to serve the Church and the world using her own unique gifts and talents.  Our job is to help steward her experiences and keeping our faces fixed on Jesus together.

Religious Freedom In Every Sphere

Below is a letter I wrote on behalf of my dear friend and midwife, Brenda, who was arrested for exercising her faith as it applies to childbirth.  She has always felt it was her calling to assist women in birth.  She's a Traditional Christian (unlicensed) midwife, a fact that she has never hid.  In fact, she has openly advertised that fact, because there are those of us out there who are looking for just that--independent, religious centered birth on our own terms.  

We also started a petition on Brenda's behalf.  Even if home birth is not your thing, please sign it.  Even if you are not a Christian, please sign it.  At its core, it's not about home birth or theology.  It's about the essential right we all have to decide what we believe and how that is best lived out.  That is the right and responsibility of every individual (our "inalienable rights") and should not be infringed upon by the government.

SIGN HERE.

To Whom It May Concern:

            My name is Daja Gombojav.  I'm the mother of seven, all born at home.  In six of the seven labors I have been attended by Brenda Capps.  My husband, Gana, is seminary educated with a Master's Degree in theology from Fuller Theological Seminary.  We have been missionaries and pastors in Mongolia.

            When we found out we were expecting our first child we specifically searched out a Christian midwife.  We were thrilled to be introduced to Brenda Capps and to learn she practiced under the Religious Exemption Clause.  We have always viewed birth as not only a spiritual, but a religious experience.  Only in the rare cases of emergencies is it a "medical" experience. 

           This understanding of birth as primarily religious can be found to span many, if not most religious thought and dogmas.  In Judaism, "A midwife’s role, among other things, is to encourage a birthing mother to "let go" and allow herself to become a conduit for this great Force to flow through. Trust in the natural process of labor and in a woman’s body to birth normally and safely is the hallmark of midwifery care. Every culture and religion has their own words and metaphors to describe their reverence and awe of this process. But for Jewish midwives, this reverence stems from an understanding that birth is G‑dly in nature. Their faith in birth is inexorably bound with their faith in G‑d." (Source)

            In Catholicism, birth is understood to be participating in the same creative power that took Eve from Adam's side.  St. Hildegard of Bingen, theologian and Doctor of the Church explains, "When birth is approaching, the vessel in which the child is enclosed is torn, and then comes the eternal energy that took Eve from Adam's side, and is present and turns upside-down all the corners of the shelter in the woman's body.  All the structures of the woman's body rush toward this energy, receive it and open up to it.  They do so until the child emerges.  Afterwards, they return to their previous state.  As the child emerges, its soul too feels the eternal energy that sent it, and meanwhile it rejoices." (St. Hildegard of Bingen in Causes and Cures)

            In Charismatic/Pentecostal Christian traditions, the belief that Jesus reversed the curse, thus lifting the pain of childbirth is in agreement with Romans 14:23 which says that anything not from faith is sin.  In a now classic Christian childbirth text, Supernatural Childbirth, author Jackie Mize writes, "When I refer to supernatural childbirth, I’m talking strictly about being able to conceive and to have babies with a pregnancy free from nausea, morning sickness, pain, moodiness, depression and without fear of any kind; then going through the entire labor without pain, and through the delivery without stitches and anesthetic. I’m talking about using the Word of God to overcome, change and make things better." (Supernatural Childbirth, Jackie Mize)

           In Reformed Christian traditions, the understanding of birth being religious extends to conception and pregnancy also.  God is seen as completely Sovereign.  He alone opens and closes the womb.  "Each time a human baby is born, another image bearer of God is brought into the world, thereby making each birth a very spiritual event.  Birth may be a commonly-occurring experience, but that does not make it common, mundane, or insignificant. It is miraculous. Isn't that how God is sometimes? Even His own son's coming to earth seemed "insignificant." A baby born in a stable to a poor family is far from the regalia appropriate for our Messiah, the Son of God.  It almost seems like He chooses to allow Himself to be "hidden" in the most obvious of places." (AboveRubies)

            For our family, we are always striving to live fully integrated lives where our faith informs every aspect of our day-in-and-day-out.  This includes our family planning (or lack thereof), pregnancy, birth, post-partum and the way we raise our children.  Because this is our outlook on family, we believe that childbirth is an expression of our faith.  It is not a medical event that should be managed by men. It is an act of the Sovereign God. 

            When planning for our births a few things are essential: We want to give birth in an atmosphere of faith, peace, and love.  We don't invite anyone who will bring fear, control, or worry.  Everyone present must be in agreement with our objectives of a birth without pain, fear, or intervention.  I want someone who will encourage me to surrender to the Power that is eternal and available.

            This is why we have chosen Brenda to attend us in childbirth six times.  The role she fills is not medical, it is spiritual.  She acts as a sort of guide between a woman and the innate power she has at her disposal to give birth.  Had Brenda not been practicing her art the way she has been, we would have searched out another Christian direct entry midwife.  If we were unable to find one we would have chosen to birth unattended.  That's how strongly we feel about our children not being born into a medical environment--whether that be at the hospital or recreated at home by a caregiver who doesn't truly trust birth.

            We count ourselves extremely blessed to live in a country and state where women have the choice to manage their reproduction according to their own conscience and religion.  We realize that many places the government tries to intervene to tell families how, when and where their children can/should be born.  We pray that California is not headed down that road.  It will be to the detriment to all of us.

            We stand wholeheartedly with Brenda Capps and her practice under the Religious Exemption Clause. 

Sincerely,

Daja Gombojav

Brenda and my sixth baby

If you believe in the First Amendment, if you value your Religious Freedom, if you think that parents should decide for themselves how, where, and with whom they birth their babies, PLEASE sign the petition and make your voice heard.

(Linked to Fight Back Friday, Best Post Of The Week, Simply Natural Saturdays)

Stories For Girls

I adore fairy tales.  I love the mystery, the supernatural, the happily ever afters.  They are full of virtue and strength.  I even like the ones that don't end so well, like the Little Mermaid.  (What's that?)  No, it's not a happily ever after story.  It's actually rather tragic.  If you think it's not a cautionary tale, you've been fed a diet of Disney fairy tales, which are pretty dumbed down.

I've been fairly disenchanted with Disney for a while.  My disgust started years ago with The Hunchback and Pocahontas.  Miserable.  Simply awful.

Anyway.....

Now I have a daughter who adores fantasies more than I do!  When we go to the library she loads up on fairy tales and fantasies.  She devours George MacDonald and has read all of Narnia more than once.  And we are reading Lord of the Rings together.

I'm always looking to pick up more great tales for her.

The week before Father's Day we were at the library and I took a look at the books the librarians recommended for Father's Day reading.  There was a Fathers and Sons Tales and a Fathers and Daughters Tales.  I grabbed both.

A few days later Meg says, "This book is weird."  And she proceeds to tell me the story of a Shah who is disgusted with his wife for "betraying" him.  So he has her killed.  Then he takes a virgin maiden from the kingdom--a new one each night.  After "enjoying her company" he chops her head off in the morning.  He does this until he has "enjoyed" every maiden in the kingdom except the daughter of his grand vizier.  She goes into him and he "enjoys" her, too.  Then she says, "Since I'm dying tomorrow can I tell stories tonight?" So, she spends the evening telling stories and the Shah loves to listen to her stories.  So, he demands another one the next night.  After she bears him three children she begs for her life.  And all his anger has gone out of him and he pardons her (excuse me???? pardons her????) and decides since he has three kids with her he may as well marry her.  The tale ends with "May Allah bless us all with good stories."

What the......?????

The librarian heard from me, I assure you.

I don't want a book burning.  But, I would certainly hope for better from a recommended reading list!

Meg and I had a long talk about women's roles in stories.

So, then yesterday at the library I was looking for a different book--one that would be uplifting and empowering.  I got one on African American Folk Tales For Girls.  Another dismal failure.  So many of the stories are downright demonic and the illustrations actually scare ME, let alone the children.  It's not so much full of girl power as it is full of the glorification of evil.

Thankfully I had learned my lesson from the Shah and didn't let the kids read it until I had!

*sigh*

All I want are some books that are beautiful, rich in imagery and rhythm that are not anti-woman, demonic or stoopid.  Is that too much to ask??????

Any recommendations?

In case of pride, break self-image.

I gained a lot of weight in my last pregnancy.  I think the final count was about 80 pounds.  And yet, four months post-partum, I'm in almost all my regular clothes, with the exception of a few particularly skinny things.  My regular clothes are a size 4-6.  I haven't dieted nor started working out.  I just have a baby who nurses around the clock and six other kids to run around with constantly.

Feelin' pretty good about myself.

That is until yesterday at the bank.

I was holding the baby and had three of the other kids with me.  The clerk said, "You have your hands full today."  I replied, "I have my heart full today."

She said, "Oh, that's sweet.  How far along are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"How many months pregnant are you," she said again, pointing at my stomach.

I stared at her in complete disbelief.  Finally I said, pointing to the baby in my arms, "This one just came out of me a few months ago.  You think I'm pregnant again?"

What could she say, "Oh, sorry 'bout that."

The clerk next to her, a man, stared at her with a look that said, "I'm so glad I didn't say something that stupid."  I told her, "You know he's going to completely mock you when I walk out of here."

On a crazier note, I was in Target a couple days ago with the baby in the Moby Wrap.  This young woman said to me, "Is that your baby?"

"What?"

"Is that your baby?"

"You mean the one I'm wearing?  Yes, this is my baby."

"Oh," she said, "He looks Asian."

I guess it's just inconceivable.  Alrighty then.

I will never ever ever think that men have the corner on stupid things said to women about pregnancies and babies.  In my experience women are 10 times worse.  Those of our fairer sex seem to have no problem putting our foot in our mouth.

Schools really should offer a class on making small talk, because there are a lot of people who don't know how to do it well at all.

The post in which I let my lactivism show...

Have you seen this story?  Basically, a Houston mother was fired from her job because she wanted to use a back unused room at her work to pump breast milk for her baby at home.  She took her employer to court and the judge ruled that it was not discrimination, that employers are under no obligation to let a woman pump during her regularly scheduled work breaks.

Can you see the steam coming out of my ears?

Multi-tasking.
Working on the computer and cuddling Belgee.

We have this idea in our society that because a woman can decide not to breastfeed and use formula instead that she should make that choice.  Lactation is not seen as the inevitable conclusion to the biological rhythm of life.

The rhythm of life goes like this: a woman ovulates.  If she doesn't get pregnant, approximately fourteen days later she menstruates.  Approximately fourteen days later she ovulates again.  Repeat, repeat, repeat until she either gets pregnant or hits menopause.

Menstruating is the natural conclusion of the 28 day cycle.  It is her natural state.  She can choose, of course, to take medical means to interfere with that.  But, can you imagine an employer firing a woman because she's not on the pill.  (Unless her employer is a pimp.)  Would a judge rule in favor of an employer who didn't give a woman the time and appropriate place to change her tampon?  I think not.

Lactation is the natural and obvious conclusion to the cycle of ovulation, fertilization, implantation, gestation, and birth.  Lactation is simply what happens next.  It is how human mammals feed their babies.  A woman's body does that all on its own.  A woman can choose, of course, to take medical means to interfere with that.  But, should she be required to?

The judge in this case said that lactation was not pregnancy-related.  (Methinks this gentleman needs a biology lesson.)  As a result of this faulty understanding the judge ruled that firing a woman because she is pumping breast milk is not sexual discrimination.  Are you serious?  People get breaks to smoke, use the restroom, make personal calls, etc.  But, if you want to use your break to pump it's out of the question?  Of course it's sexual discrimination; only women lactate!

Have sling.  Will travel.

I can hear some of my readers saying that this Houston mother shouldn't have been in the workplace if she had a nursing baby.  Regardless of how I personally live my life (I stay home with my children and don't even leave the baby with a sitter), I cannot be too quick to judge another's situation.  Many women, for one reason or another, work. We don't live in a perfect world.  Ideally, I believe a woman should be home resting while on her period (red tent anyone?).  But our world doesn't ordinarily give women the space to do that either.

The fact that breastfeeding women are not protected under the law is ridiculous, in my opinion.  President Obama's health care law does address breastfeeding and requires employers to give new moms a break to nurse.  However, it doesn't protect women from being fired if they ask to pump!  There's a severe chink in this logic.  (The more I learn about the President's healthcare law, the angrier I get.  There's no room for following the dictates of your conscience, is there?!)


I think some nurse-ins are in order.  Who's with me?

In which I vent and come to verge of swearing...

On Sunday a woman walked up to me in church and asked--in all seriousness and looking at my stomach, "Are you pregnant again?"  Now this is an educated woman with a couple kids herself.  She should have known better.  But apparently, no one does.

I said in a joking way, "What's the matter with you?  I just HAD a baby!  Are YOU pregnant again?"  Her youngest child is a couple years old.  It's about time to for her to have another baby, don't you think?

She just laughed.  I did, too.  But, inside, I was a little or a lot more irritated than I let on.

When you have as many children as I do, people seem to think it is within the realm of acceptability to ask me all sort of personal questions, that quite frankly are none of their business.

Are you pregnant again?


Are you having another one?


When are you have another one?


Do you want more kids?


How does Gana feel about having more kids?


Was this one planned?

To all this, I have to restrain myself from saying, "None of your d*** business!"

I'm not talking about someone who is a close friend and with whom I am having a real conversation.  I don't mind that at all.  I have opinions about large families and birth control and the role of family in society.  But, people in the grocery store?  Casual acquaintances I pass in church?  People who really have no business asking about what happens in my bedroom?

But, it gets worse.  People sometimes go as far as to make jokes about our breeding practices, telling us that there are other ways to amuse ourselves, that we should get a TV, that I (or Gana) should learn to say "no" sometimes.  Sometimes people feel free to dictate what we should do.

It's time to stop, don't you think?


When will it be enough?  Enough already!


Don't have anymore kids.  Stop already.


There's no sin in birth control, you know?


When are you getting fixed?

Seriously, folks?  That's none of your d*** business.  It's just plain RUDE.  Being the brunt of crass jokes is not amusing--especially when it's in front of the children!

We love to go out.  But, these sorts of comments and judgments rob the joy of doing so.  Some large families would much rather order in than eat out because people go as far as to try to take pictures of them.  We are not a reality TV show.  I have had to literally put myself between my children and people with smart phones.  I have had to say, "Please do not take pictures of my children."

Are you incredulous?  Do you think I'm making this up?  I assure you, I am not.  People these days have absolutely no sense of propriety.  There are some things that you don't say.  There are some questions you don't ask of strangers or those with whom you do not share an intimate acquaintance.

How am I to respond to these things?  My Mama raised me not to be rude. So I usually just smile or give a courtesy laugh.  But, it's not funny.  It really isn't.  And I reproach myself, "If you don't speak up people will never learn.  You need to say something."  But, what?  Maybe I need to perfect that perfect silence and the look that says, "You've crossed a line."  The trouble is that subtlety is probably wasted on people who are clueless enough to say these kinds of things.

So, I am pouring my heart out here in hopes that maybe the word will spread:

1. When you encounter a mother with a new baby or someone with a large family it is impolite to make sport of them.  They do not exist for your amusement.

2. Learn to make better small talk.  Her reproductive capabilities and preferences are not proper subjects while waiting in line for your groceries.  If you can think of nothing else restrict your comments to the weather.  Or you could always compliment how young she looks.  No one minds that.

3.Never ask a question you would never want asked of you.  Never make a joke that you yourself would not like to be the brunt of.

4.Never make judgments about the merit of having or not having children in front of said children.  Way to give a child a complex.

5. While we're at it, if you encounter a couple with no kids, don't ask when they are going to start their family.  First of all, a married couple IS a family.  And secondly, you don't know what kind of pain you are causing.  Maybe they greatly desire children and it hasn't happened for them.

6.And finally, if you have to ask "Are you pregnant?" because you really cannot tell for sure, you'd be better off not asking.

Now, commit these rules to memory.  All the young mothers and mothers of large families will thank you.

It's Not The Same Thing

OK, so I fully expect that I may lose some followers on this point or offend some.  I know it.  I've been around my earthy-birthy peeps for a long time.  It's a topic, that when brought up at birth network meetings or childbirth educator or doula conferences, I politely excuse myself to the bathroom before my opinion is asked for.  But, as this blog is MY forum, I'm going to go out on a limb and share my opinion.  Please don't hate me.


The topic is circumcision.


Now, truly I do not care whether you circumcise your sons or not.  You can argue the merit or benefit of circumcision all day long.  It's medically a good idea vs. it's medically useless.  It's completely safe vs. it's potentially dangerous.  It's an outdated, antiquated practice vs. it's still relevant.  It's OK to practice only for religious reasons vs. it's never OK.  The debate can go on and on.


Those who are anti-circ or "intactivists" would make a lot more progress, however, if they left out the comparison to Female Genital Mutilation (FGM).  Those who would convince you not to circumcise use the comparison as their trump card.  "If you are against the female genital mutilation that happens in Africa then you have to be against the male genital mutilation that happens in the West."  They maintain that the two are the same and totally comparable.  I beg to differ.

Image from here.

First of all, FGM is always a means of controlling women and their sexuality.  In contrast, in all countries that widely practice circumcision, males are dominant.


Also, male circumcision rarely, if ever, has long-term medical consequences; FGM always does.


FGM removes at the very least part or all of the clitoris taking all pleasure out of intercourse.  (Often FGM removes even more than that.  Sometimes all outer genitalia is removed, leaving only a small opening for urine and menstrual blood to be released.)  Circumcised men still enjoy intercourse.


FGM damages the urinary tract leaving a woman with reoccurring infections and often very painful urination.  On the other hand, circumcised men have a slightly reduced rate of urinary tract infections.  And for men with reoccurring UTIs often circumcision is recommended by urologists.  


FGM can cause fertility problems, sometimes even making vaginal childbirth impossible, forcing women to undergo more risky c-sections.  Male circumcision does not effect fertility.


Male circumcision almost always takes place when the boy is still an infant (in Jewish tradition at 8 days old). If it occurs at an older age it is done under general anesthesia.  FGM happens at various ages, often in the teenage years.  And it is never done with anesthesia--neither general nor local.  


Infant circumcision heals very quickly.  If done at 8 days there is scarcely any bleeding at all.  This is because vitamin K peaks in a boy at 8 days, allowing for swift blood clotting.  Vitamin K is higher at 8 days old than it will be at any other time in his life.  FGM, which happens at a various ages, sometimes never full heals and is often re-injured and torn open when sexual intercourse does eventually occur.


Male circumcision is always carried out in a sterile environment, using medical grade tools.  FGM is typically carried out in an unsterile environment using everything from razors and scissors to fingernails and sharpened glass or rocks.  Sutures can be anything from agave or even thorns.   


Complications from male infant circumcision in the West are very rare. (from 0.2 to 0.6 %.  Source: "Report 10 of the Council on Scientific Affairs (I-99):Neonatal Circumcision". 1999 AMA Interim Meeting: Summaries and Recommendations of Council on Scientific Affairs Reports. American Medical Association. December 1999. pp. 17.)  In contrast around 10 percent of those subjected to FGM die of hemorrhage or shock. (Source: Van Zeller, Mariana. "Female Genital Cutting",Vanguard, Current TV, 31 January 2007.)


As you can see it's really not the same thing.  For intactivists to keep using this comparison belittles the atrocities committed against women all over the world through genital mutilation.  This is a very serious social injustice that deserves our outrage.  It is not at all comparable with male infant circumcision.


You can disagree with male infant circumcision, choose to keep your sons intact, and advocate better information and education regarding circumcision.  But, don't compare it to female genital mutilation, please. Women, we need to care more for our sisters than that.  To compare the two is not only bad science, it's disrespectful to women all over the world who have had this heinous thing done to them.  
   

Artwork from here.

Real Conversation I Had Yesterday

Lucas is playing Fall Baseball.  Yesterday he had his first practice.  I sat on the grass with the other moms and their children not participating.  And as moms do, we made small talk.

Other mom:  How old is your baby?

Me: She's two-and-a-half.  How old is your little girl?

Other mom: She's almost two.

Me: She's adorable.  I love her hair!  Look at those soft curls.  So precious.

Other mom, with the child still on her lap:  I hate her hair.  I wish she had straight hair.

Me: Oh.  Well, they are very beautiful curls.  But, perhaps they'll be straight as she gets older.  A lot of kids grow out of their curls, unfortunately.


Other mom: That's what people keep saying.  I've cut her hair four or five times.  But, it's still curly.  I don't want her to have curly hair.

If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.  Thanks, Thumper.

Well, OK, then.....I can tell this baseball season is going to be a joy sitting next to people like that!  I better come armed with books to read, because I don't think I can have another "polite" conversation like that again.  I might say something I regret.

Seriously, what is the matter with people?  Even IF, God forbid, you hated something about your child's appearance, why would you announce that to the world and in front of the child no less?

I hope this mother is putting money away for her child's therapy some day.

Repentance: It's Not As "Religious" As You Might Think

This is a guest post from my dear friend Brett.  I met Brett when I was 13 years old.  We were both on a missions trip to Mexico for the whole summer of 1992.  She was my first tent mate at a very wet and soggy boot camp in Florida where we prepared for our mission.  We'd wake up every day at 5am and hold the flashlight for each other as we tried to get dressed, lacing up 8 inch construction boots, and out of the tent in a matter of minutes in order to make it to the obstacle course on time--where we always disqualified ourselves.

We remained friends through the years, but lost touch as we both reached  adulthood.  In the last couple of years we've reconnected and it's been wonderful.  Brett encourages me and stretches the man-made boundaries of my embedded theologies.  Most of all, she's one of those people that challenges each person to see themselves as beautiful and without flaw in the eyes of the Beloved.


Please welcome our guest blogger, Brett!  Read and be challenged and enjoy!


--Daja

I am a big believer that semantics exist. You know…the whole idea that one word can mean something very different from one person to the next. A word might have either a positive or negative connotation, depending on whom you ask.

Take the word “repentance” for example. What feelings, emotions or memories does that powerful (sometimes polarizing!) word evoke? To many people, extremely abrasive and in-your-face images pop into their minds; e.g. “Turn or Burn” bumper stickers on vehicles or street-corner evangelists yelling at the top of their lungs, attempting to shove their message of “Repentance” onto innocent passers-by.

Well, repentance has a very different meaning to me than these examples. So before you stop reading this because I used the “R-word”, please give me a moment to explain where I’m coming from.

I’m going to dive right into the deep end with you – share my raw heart. My motivation for doing this is to demonstrate just how UN-religious “repentance” truly is….and I’m gonna offer part of my own personal story as an example to share where I’m coming from.

I have had a very painful past; overall a very difficult life. I have experienced just about every kind of abuse possible, I think: sexual, physical, emotional, & spiritual. Unfortunately - on more than one occasion -  emotional, sexual AND spiritual abuse were all mixed together in one slimy package - and I was its unsuspecting, trusting victim.  Ugh! So incredibly slimy.  All of these experiences have been gut-wrenchingly traumatic, & ultimately dumped LIES into my mind & soul about where my worth comes from. Its outcome is that I have believed that I am hard to love...if not COMPLETELY unlovable.

Yes, there has been much damage done TO me by others. But what I want to address here is the part I did to MYSELF as a result of that pain & trauma.

You see, I perpetuated the abuse that I had experienced….to myself. Though the abusers were long gone, the utter VIOLENCE of that abuse remained. VIOLENCE was now embedded into my brain, morphing itself into deeply-seated (seeded?) lies about myself, which I have believed for Way. Too. Long.

So what is this “violence” I am referring to?

Self-hatred.

I have literally HATED MYSELF all these years. I’m tired of believing I am hard to love, difficult to love, impossible to love…right where I’m at. I’m tired of believing that I will love myself much more when I am a certain weight, when I look that “certain way”. Though it’s never been proven to be true, I have believed it, nevertheless. Crazy as it sounds, I have reached the goal of looking that “way”, many times throughout life, yet my self-hatred level soared higher than ever. So I know it doesn’t bring happiness or love, but I still have believed it. Those lies planted years ago are deeply rooted …painfully deep.

All these years, Evil has used both people and the lies in my head to entice me into believing countless lies about myself & my “unlovability”. Those lies have greatly affected my actions. I’ve been all-too-eager to willingly engage in various violent thoughts, & perform acts of violence on my body. I have hurt it over & over for not being “perfect” enough, for denying me the love - I believed - it should “earn” on my behalf. It is no understatement to say that I have HATED my body, my very self.

Miserable!
Trying to squeeze myself into the box of perfection and crazy high standards
of what every woman is told she "should" be.

Now back to REPENTANCE….

So what in the world does that word & concept mean to a woman like me? Repentance is more than “turning away from wrongdoing or sin”. It is more than “saying sorry” to someone I wronged or to God.

I believe REPENTANCE is actually a call to KICK SOME MAJOR ASS!

I’m kicking ass by refusing to worship at the altar of “perfection”, in any form.

I am tearing down the “wallpaper of my mind” that tells me I need to BE more _______ (fill in the blank…pretty, thin, perfect, etc., etc.) That wallpaper is NASTY and long-overdue for renovation. It has been there for so long, folks, that I haven’t even realized it was there…it had become so much a part of my person.

Most of all, I’m kicking ass by being KIND…..

To MYSELF.

Choosing to stand up--becoming brave enough to come outside the box!

Repentance means I will be kind, gentle, and patient with myself now….right where I am. I am choosing to believe that God loves me right where I am. Today. Now. Did you know He’s actually pretty crazy about me? RIGHT NOW?

Yes! I am incredibly lovable now….imperfections, foibles, cellulite, quirks, stretch marks & all. This, dear friends, is the new, improved “wallpaper of my mind”!

It is said, “The KINDNESS of God leads us to repentance”. (Romans 2:4)  Get that? It’s not the condemnation of God that leads us to change…nor His judgment. Not His confrontation. Not His-being-super-hard-on-us-&-showing-us-how-much-harder-we-need-to-work, in-order-to-be-perfect-&-worthy-of-love.

Sure, negative self-talk may temporarily bring change into your life. It has served me quite well, to be honest. Trust me – you will get results to be “hard” on yourself, by being mean to yourself….I am living proof. If you despise your thighs enough you can propel yourself to shrink them...regardless of the cost. If you loathe your postpartum stomach enough you can likely tone & flatten it, using self-hatred as high-octane fuel. But I’m ready for peace, joy & Truth to reign in my heart, not negativity & hate. Self-hatred has been a poor excuse of a “friend” to me.

On a practical level, being kind to myself would include the following: taking time to exercise (but not too much, as I can tend to do), choose healthy food to fuel my body (yet not over-fueling OR under-fueling it), painting my toenails every once in awhile (even though my feet are callus-ridden and far from pedicure-perfect). Repentance is also wearing the fun clothes that remain in my closet & even pretty underwear, which often go unworn because I do not feel “worthy”, “pretty”, or “skinny” enough to dress my body with such nice adornments. The lies in my mind have told me that my body is not to be enjoyed or celebrated; that it is ugly & forever needs to seek perfection & work harder to be loved. Therefore, repentance means I CELEBRATE who I am & what I look like TODAY, because I truly am loved for who I am. And my actions of being kind to myself & taking care of myself are proof that I am loved….right now & for who I am at this very moment.

Breaking Free!

Who knew REPENTANCE could be so practical? It’s a far-cry from the “repentance” preached by the “hell, fire & brimstone” kind of evangelist, isn’t it?

Bring on the kindness. Bring on repentance. Bring on tenderness.

Continue to bring true beauty into my life, in exchange for all the ashes I’ve experienced.

I’m ready to change.

Finally kicking the HELL out of the box!

[You can reach Brett at hisbrettchristine@hotmail.com]