Friday, September 21, 2012

I swear I'm not a feminist....

but really, Irene Adler in Steven Moffat's Sherlock episode, "A Scandal in Belgravia," encompasses everything grotesque in patriarchal societies.
I'm serious.



At the beginning of the episode, Moriarty threatens Adler, "If you have what you say you have, I'll make you rich.  If not, I'll make you into shoes."
When Moriarty threatens Holmes at the end of the previous episode, he says, "If you don't stop prying, I'll burn you.  I will burn the heart out of you."
What do we have here?  Objectification.  Man = burned.  Woman = turned into an object- shoes.  What an appropriate way to introduce Irene Adler.

If one more person says she's a complex, independent, realistic character, heads will roll.  And Sherlock won't be there with a scimitar to save them.

Beyond the stereotypical bad-ass-tamed-into-damsel-in-distress, there's something deeper, and far more dangerous, communicated through Adler's character.  I can forgive stereotypes, they're created from an element of truth.  But Adler's character expresses an absolute fallacy about women, a fallacy that has blinded so many men and women in our culture with devastating results.  

Women gain agency through their sexuality.

The liberated woman, right?  Women are free to use sex as a power play, and Adler certainly does. She uses her sexuality to gain the upper hand over men, and the world believes this empowers her.

No woman can/does actually use sex as a power tool.  Real women get burned.  No woman can use her body as a tool like that and not be extremely hurt, jaded, and violated to the core of her being- physically and emotionally.  It makes no real difference if she's being violated by someone else or if she's violating herself.  It's all a facade.  Women objectify themselves as sex symbols because it gives them a false sense of control.  Either violate yourself or be violated.  It really isn't much of a choice.   

Moffat portrays Adler as the ultimate woman, "The Woman," literally.  She's man's ideal: a sex symbol with a brain, "brainy is the new sexy," who knows "what men like," and appears to like giving it to them.  It's not enough for her to be sexually powerful (that can be too intimidating), she also has to want Sherlock emotionally.  He's her weakness.  And in the end, she becomes the tame damsel in distress who is literally saved by her mighty, sword-wielding knight.

Sure we live in a gender equal society where men no longer objectify women.  They don't need to, we've taught women to objectify themselves.

Here's another fabulous article from The Guardian on this subject:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/jan/03/sherlock-sexist-steven-moffat

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Hard to love

So it's a bit theologically unsound, but I'm pretty sure Lee Brice's song "Hard to Love" is actually about Jesus and me.
Just replace Lee with me
and the girl with Jesus.



It's pathetic, but I have the hardest time accepting the fact that God's love for me is utterly unmerited.  Either He loves me and has good reason to because I am awesome, or He realizes I'm a wreck and only loves me out of obligation to His goodness- so says my silly head.

Fact 1: I CANNOT earn God's love
Fact 2: but it's still authentic and transcends unfathomable depths.

Somehow, fact 1 and fact 2 are both true.
I just don't get it.


But I love that You love me good.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Beloved

He loves me.
It's incredible.

He loves me.
He loves me.
He loves me.

I've been beating on His chest for weeks now, bitter, angry, accusing Him of cruelty, blaming Him for my broken heart.  Didn't I ask Him to break my heart for what breaks His?
It didn't matter.
All I could see and know and feel and taste was suffering.  In the brokenness of my own heart I refused to see how greatly suffering pained Him.  His heart broke first.
As I struggle with trusting Him, He gently pulls me closer and closer into Him, letting me struggle, letting me hurt Him.
Oh, what kind of love is like this?
He looks at me, the one who should be named Condemned, and He calls me Redeemed.
I deserve wrath.
He gives me love.
.....

If the Titanic was made to sink
then so was my heart
for I made sure it was [{(impenetrable)}]...
So what then?
What good is a broken / heart to You?
Can you even hear my heart from {there}?

And like a father assuring his son to come home,
“Oh my son, it’s enough. 
It’s enough.”

So who am I to accept this grace that just falls like rain?
‘Cause we all know I chose to lay my head in this desert.
But like a fish out of water,
we only know then what it means to be --parched--.
So if Christ is alive,
the love,
and the groom
then take heed my friends
for chivalry is not dead! 
For I know no other lover who would have met me
[here in this place].

So I awake and I rise from my bed of complacency,
"Oh, my God, I’ve been sleeping with a corpse!
Oh, and these bed sores they still rest in my bones.
Oh, how I’ve made a beautiful dance with this cadaver,
but my audience is appalled.

Oh, how strong these tendons!
How they desperately need to ~rip~ from this ancient Adam.
So light up the sky
and set me a flame!
Burn this bone and tissue
for I no longer want to be [[entangled]] in this sinew
that ///hinders/// my reach
towards You
                                                   -"Tendons" by Bellarive


"Behold, it was for my welfare
    that I had great bitterness;
but in love you have delivered my life
    from the pit of destruction,
for you have cast all my sins
    behind your back."      Isaiah 38:17


“Come, let us return to the Lord;
    for He has torn us, that He may heal us;
    He has struck us down, and He will bind us up.
After two days He will revive us;
    on the third day He will raise us up,
    that we may live before Him.
Let us knowlet us press on to know the Lord;
    His going out is sure as the dawn;
He will come to us as the showers,
    as the spring rains that water the earth.”    Hosea 6:1-3

Friday, August 24, 2012

Restless and Worn


I know what you're probably thinking, "Abi finally blogged about Ukraine!"
nope.
Even I thought I was going to blog about Ukraine. I sat on the couch with my lap top, opened a new blog post..... and nope.
sorry.
It's not happening.
 I went to the east coast with Comrade for sunrise and soul-soothing in the ocean. But it wasn't enough. I was restless.
 I wanted to swim and swim and swim and swim until my heart gave out and my body succumbed to the waves. I needed so much space that my eyes couldn't rest on anything but an eternally blue horizon. I needed a boat.
Need is a relative term.
 All I really need is Christ. But a boat would've been nice.
 I will blog about Ukraine eventually, I'm just having trouble getting the words right. In the meantime, 10th Ave's words will have to explain what mine can't.

I'm tired 
 I'm worn 
 My heart is heavy 
 From the work it takes to keep on breathing 
 I've made mistakes 
 I've let my hope fail 
 My soul feels crushed 
 By the weight of this world 
 And I know that you can give me rest 
 So I cry out with all that I have left 
 Let me see redemption win 
 Let me know the struggle ends 
 That you can mend a heart that's frail and torn 
 I want to know a song can rise 
 From the ashes of a broken life 
 And all that's dead inside can be reborn 
 Cause I'm worn 
 I know I need To lift my eyes up 
 But I'm too week 
 Life just won't let up 
 And I know that You can give me rest 
 So I cry out with all that I have left 
 Let me see redemption win 
 Let me know the struggle ends 
 That you can mend a heart that's frail and torn 
 I want to know a song can rise 
 From the ashes of a broken life 
 And all that's dead inside can be reborn 
 Cause I'm worn And my prayers are wearing thin 
 I'm worn even before the day begins 
 I'm worn I've lost my will to fight 
 I'm worn so heaven come and flood my eyes 
 Let me see redemption win 
 Let me know the struggle ends 
 That you can mend a heart that's frail and torn 
 I want to know a song can rise 
 From the ashes of a broken life 
 And all that's dead inside can be reborn 
 Yes all that's dead inside will be reborn 
 Though I'm worn 
 Yeah I'm worn

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Follow me?



I'm going back to Ukraine!  Which means I won't post anything here for the next few weeks, but you can follow my Ukraine journeys at http://restoreukraine.blogspot.com/ if you want to know what I'm up to!

Friday, July 27, 2012

Count the stars...if you are able


After these events, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision:

Do not be afraid, Abram.
I am your shield;
your reward will be very great.

But Abram said, “Lord God, what can You give me, since I am childless and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?”  Abram continued, “Look, You have given me no offspring, so a slave born in my house will be my heir.”

Now the word of the Lord came to him: “This one will not be your heir; instead, one who comes from your own body will be your heir.”  He took him outside and said, “Look at the sky and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then He said to him, “Your offspring will be that numerous.”

Abram believed the Lord, and He credited it to him as righteousness.  ~Gen. 15:1-6


My neighborhood doesn't have street lights (thank God) so climbing up on the roof to look at the stars is not entirely fruitless.
I needed space. 
Whatever glint of stars and half-hearted moon I could get would have to be enough. 
When I first laid down on the flat part of my roof that hangs over the back porch, only the half moon was visible amid the deep purple sky, but as my eyes adjusted, tiny flickers of light softly emerged from the darkness, like dust specks that get in your eyes but you can never focus on because they move along with your iris.  I let myself shrink as my sight drifted off into eternity.  I focus on one star and try to realize it isn't a piece of glitter, but a gigantic ball of fire light years away.  I try to imagine how far a light year is. 
Impossible. 
Trees surround my house, so from my view on the roof, the sky is framed by tree tops, so I decided to count the stars in the basin.  I had to start over many times, finally concluding with a rough total of 102.  A moment after, the sky suddenly seemed to deepen and brighten with a trillion more stars as if my vision was suddenly extended by light years.  The vision flashed and was gone.  With all my efforts, I could only count 102 stars, but how many more are really out there! 
I understand why God told Abraham to count the stars.  Imagine how visible they must have been without artificial lighting or pollution anywhere on the planet!
God could have said, "What, you don't trust me, Abraham?  Fine, count to a zillion.  What?  You don't even know what a zillion is?  Well it's a massive number that would take you years to count to.  Your offspring will be more than that number!"
But He didn't.  He brought Abraham out to look at the stars.  Not only were they impossible to count, they were beautiful, incomprehensible.  Abraham didn't know what they were made of, how far away they were, how or when they appeared... but God knew them all by name.  

Creation declares His glory.


Friday, July 20, 2012

Who needs a mental dump?  That's right, this mess-of-a-person right here.  So brace yourselves- this could get crazy.

Thank the good Lord for friends who randomly pick you up from work and take you to the sea!!  Reason # 4,132 I love the ocean?  My eyes have (          space          ).  When I look toward the horizon over the water, I can rest knowing my eyes are looking to the furthest reaches of their grasp, unblocked by a computer screen, wall, building, car, tree, star, anything!  Puts me in my place every time.  The sea goes on far, far, far beyond my sight.  What looks like a drop off into oblivion is really my eyes' inability to follow the curvature of the earth to Africa, Australia...  Physical proof that I am limited.  But God is not.  and I can trust Him.

And uh, speaking about trusting God, He's brought me through quite the ride these past few days.  Remember I was wrestling with the cost of following Christ?  Well...
So many things.  I don't really know how to accurately express them.  One out of every 3 women around the world are sexually abused.  1 out of three.  There are 3 women in my immediate family alone.  What gives us the right to be the one?  No, NO ONE deserves abuse.  But sin is destroying our world, and I have been beyond blessed in my life when I compare it to the statistics.  The very least I can do is spend my life rescuing and healing the other two.  Sinner that I am, I deserve NOTHING, no good thing, no assurance of freedom from present suffering, nor of eternal salvation, yet God generously and freely gives me salvation, so what care I of present safety?  I have Him.  My sins are not counted against me.  I will be with Him in Paradise.  What else matters?  What cost could possibly cause me to waiver?  What could possibly be worth more than Jesus?  Look at those who have gone before me.  When they had to choose between Jesus or anything else, Jesus was the only possible option.  
Stephen- while people stone him to death, he cries out to God for their forgiveness.  Why?  His soul was committed to Jesus.  He was eternally secure.  Stephen knew the people stoning him were in a far more tragic state than he was, and he was overcome with pity.  
Paul- knowing he is about to be executed, declares to Timothy, "The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into His heavenly kingdom."   
John Huss- burned to death but singing God's praises until the roar of the flames consumed his voice.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Jim Elliot, millions of others....
And Jesus.  "who did not count equality with God as a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant... he humbled Himself to the point of death, even death on a cross!"  Jesus, who "was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed!"  Jesus suffered beyond recognition for me.  Died for me.  Took the responsibility for my sin.  How utterly ashamed this makes me feel to think I could ever doubt His worthiness.  
I don't want safety and comfort to rule my life.  I want Jesus.  I want to be eternally focused, focused on the place my Groom has prepared for me to be forever with Him.  A real, tangible place, that will come on a real, tangible day.  
My brother Jason said it so well,
"We are Alliens in a foreign land, misfits, outsiders. But we focus our attention on the great City. We speak of its beauty, its majesty. How the King is just and pure, that there is only love and joy for all Eternity in this City, this City of our King. We live in darkness but are filled with light. We walk in the shadows but our path is lit by the Truth. We are Alliens, the Salt of the earth. His glory shines from our lips leaving a sweet taste in the hungry mouth."- Jason "The Taste of Eternity is here on our lips. With Every Breath we sing, with every breath we sing of your Majesty here in our mists!"
"For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the City that is to come."