It's time to be a woman

For some time now I've had an aversion to doily coated women's meetings. I've never wanted to sit with a group of women sipping tea, painting my nails, and talking about shopping and homemaking. The roots of my aversion are varied, everything from feeling it to be surface level, to not feeling like I have common interests in these settings, to the unspoken feminist messages Portland fed me growing up. After twenty six and a half years of being content avoiding these events and discussions, being satisfied simply knowing I am His and my main role in life to to bring glory and honor to God, He has invited me on a journey that involves learning my role specifically as a woman of God.

In the past when I'd come up against an idea about a female's role, I would become frustrated hearing everyone's differing opinions on the topic, and in the end I would settle on, I don't care, I just know I'm His and I will do what He tells me. However, this time I'm confronted with the concept that men and women are not only different, but have different roles and the Lord is asking me to let Him tell me what that means and how He designed it. So I'm holding onto Him with white knuckles, bracing myself to have a paradigm shift. Already He's confronted some deep rooted issues I didn't even realize I had in me.

As I'm beginning this journey I began to pay attention to the ladies around me and I began to do some reading. What I've found so far is that most woman think they know what it means to be a woman (like I have thought myself) when in reality, few of us can articulate it or back it up with depth of scripture. Society, including Christian culture, has just told us things that we've unknowingly sucked in and accepted.

So I thought I would take you on this journey with me as I'm certain is will be at least a little life changing for me and I'm confident the Lord will reveal things. To start off let's just throw out some things I'm quite certain about and looking forward to gaining more revelation on.
 1. There is something about a woman's strength that is different than a man's and has a different purpose.
 2. God desires a gentleness and meekness in a woman that brings a certain kind of power and transformation.
 3. Something about what God's innately put in woman that allows them to mother.
 4. some other stuff that isn't coming to mind at the moment.

Second, God's already confronted some things in me that I didn't realize were there. So let's take a little look at some of the messages I was fed from a feminist society in the city I grew up in.
 1. Women can and should do anything a man can do.
 2. To desire only to be married and have a family is weak and demeans women, as women are capable of anything men are capable of.
 3. Women should be able to think like a man, and should not be overly emotional.
 4. Women and men do not have different roles based on their gender, they lead lives differently only because they are unique individuals.
 5. Women are strong.
 6. I'm sure there are way more but those are some that come to mind right off hand.

Now understand that I grew up in a godly home with parents that have a good marriage. My mom stayed at home with my brother and I and I have always regarded her as someone who is incredibly intelligent and capable. I never questioned the decision for her to be home raising my brother and I. I also see her as an incredibly influential woman. She has impacted, to a very great degree, a huge number of lives from relatives, to neighbors, to church goers, to friends, to people she pretty much just picked up off the street.

However, despite these things I have come to realize that there are lies deeply rooted in me that I haven't even realized were there. For example, the lie that woman are just as strong as men in the same way men are strong. Being told I couldn't do something because I was too weak was incredibly offensive to me. So I heard a godly women comment about her being the weaker one in her marriage and found myself completely taken back. She wasn't saying this in a way to devalue herself in any way. (Now realize I believe woman have strength, but it's different than a man's strength). So I began to question my strong reaction to the comment. Why am I offended when a man or woman suggests I shouldn't carry a heavy box because I'm a woman? I started to look at the facts. I'm five feet tall. My thigh is about the thickness of some men's biceps. Even a small man is generally quite a bit bigger than me. Hmm. It seems that I am "weaker." And yet it is SO hard for me to accept. When I come to something that I find hard to accept I tend to default to, well I just need to let the Lord speak to me (generally a very good default). But I was horrified as I realized how deeply rooted this lie was as I asked myself, what if God tells me that women are weaker, can I receive this from the Lord. Oh have mercy on me Lord. It took a process of me receiving God's grace to receive what He wants to tell me, to be ok with accepting this. Even now I'm not yet to a point where I won't have to remind myself to not be offended if a guy graciously tells me not to carry the heavy box. I share this particular example because it is one that I find most ridiculous when I really think about it. It shouldn't be hard for me to accept that my five foot self is naturally not as strong as most men. (The problem is that society had connected the lie to a lie about value and worth...but I won't go into that at the moment.)

Despite how obnoxious it is to realize the stupid lies that I hadn't realized infiltrated my life, I'm excited to let the Lord teach me about being a godly woman. Because in much lesser extremes, I see that most Christian woman have excepted things from society that weren't from God. I want to be confident in who God says I am, and I want to be open to whatever that is. You see I'm excited because I've had a taste of the freedom that comes with knowing the role that God has created for you and only having to worry about fulfilling that role instead of trying to fulfill all sorts of roles that others try to put on you. I've seen this play out in other areas of my life, but I've even had a chance to taste it in being a woman.

 While I was in Japan I had a southern guy friend. As I got to know him I immediately realized that his perception of men and women was different, and he was treating me out of his understanding of who men and women are. I took it as a cultural difference, and after fighting my feminist inclinations initially in our friendship, I began to just let it be his culture and go with it. I didn't take offense when he told me to carry the light box because I wasn't that strong. He used those words, but somehow they rolled off because I deemed them cultural, but really more so because I knew that in his mind they made me no less valuable or capable.

 In retrospect I found a lot of freedom in that friendship because I was not expected to be a man, or understand a man, or fend for myself because I'm just as capable as a man and don't need a man. I was free to have emotions. I was free to let myself be looked out for and have the heavy objects carried for me. I was free to not try to prove myself just as valuable and capable. There were defined differences, that were simply differences and suggested nothing about my worth or ability. I don't know how to explain the freedom that this brought. Because I just received it as a culture difference to accept, I was able to experience a taste of the freedom that comes from understanding what my role is.

 So now I journey with the Lord to let Him reveal to me who He has created me to be. I let Him give me my value and worth based on who He is and what He's given me, not based on me at all. I let Him show me the lies the have seeped in unknowingly and be set free by His truth. Should be a fun journey.

Freedom and Obedience

When I was 17, I remember being on the plane flying back to the U.S. from London after a summer long mission with Royal Servants. I sat next to one of my teammates and told them that I didn't ever want to become complacent. I feared settling into the typical American lifestyle and just getting comfortable, unwilling to follow God into the unknown or risky. At the time, I didn't have a clue the journey God would take me on out of my desire to follow Him. That's not to say it's been easy. Each time God directs or redirects, my faith grows as I see His faithfulness yet again, but there is certainly a laying down of one's own will in the midst of it.

I've been wanting to write about what God's taught me about obedience for some time now, but it is so deep in my heart I find it really difficult to articulate in anyway that makes sense outside of my own head. I'm quite confident that one of the greatest gifts that God gave me when I was in Japan, was teaching me that there is freedom in obedience. Freedom. I had had no idea. I always assumed that obedience felt like bondage.

This lesson took a year of experiences that were lessons in dying to myself. (And they continue still.) It sounds painful. It is. The thing is, though, that when Jesus said that we must die to ourselves to be alive in Him, He meant it. I thought being alive in myself was good enough, but it turns out, being alive in Christ is unexplainably better.

We never know what the future holds. The idea that I can plan a better life, or even day rather than letting the all-knowing God plan it for me is really quite silly. You see, if I believe that my God loves me and He knows the beginning to the end, past, present, and future, then it would only make sense that I'd follow His direction instead of my own. When I obey the things He tells me to do, I never have to worry. This isn't because things aren't hard or challenging, it's simply because if my loving God told me to do it, it is therefore better than any alternative thing I could have done. He knows everything and has my best in mind. I can know that even if what I am going through is really difficult, there is something about it that is better for me or those around me than if I had done something else. I don't have this guarantee if I try to follow my own way.

Hmm, this is frustrating...I genuinely don't know how to explain the things God has put in my heart about this all. Maybe I can give you an example. I guess I can start with that which God used to really start teaching this to me.

Three years ago I moved to Japan. None of it made sense. I'd never considered even visiting Japan, I thought I wanted to teach in a secular urban setting but really was questioning if I wanted to teach at all, and I would be working at a tiny private Christian school. I knew no one there. I wouldn't be making much money. Etc. etc. The only thing I knew was that something in my spirit felt that God was telling me to move to Japan. It was simply a matter of obedience (not to say there wasn't a part of me that was excited for an adventure). So I obeyed. I couldn't see how any part of it connected to the other passions God had put in my heart. What I knew was that if God said it, it was better than the plans I could've made. Turns out the year allowed me space to rest, provided friendships that were of a caliber that completely transformed the way I view friendships and relationships, and provided space to be with God in a way that I hadn't made time or space to do in the past. I didn't even know I needed those things before I left, and hardly recognized them happening while I was there, but they have changed the rest of my life. I don't do life the same any more. They were preparation for all the other things God has for me.

As I was in Japan I rested in the confidence that God brought me there and didn't try to figure out the whys. That's part of the freedom of obedience to God. If I plan, I have to figure out why I'm doing each thing, but if I follow what God's said, I can simply trust His instruction, goodness, and faithfulness.

One more example and then I'll just trust that whatever it was you were supposed to grasp as you read this, you did.

While I was in Japan I had a friendship that was unique. Just the way it all turned out, my friend and I both recognized that we needed to only be friends to the capacity God instructed. It was one of the most impactful friendships I've ever had. I knew that I had to hold onto it loosely and allow God to direct however He wished because there was too great a possibility of me messing things up if I tried to take control or hold on too tightly. I didn't trust myself with it. The cool thing was that because I sought God in it, I was free to be friends in the way God directed and not worry about anything because I know God is trustworthy. It also allowed for the friendship to be seasonal (this is something else God's taught me about throughout my life as He's shown me that often He places people in our lives for seasons for specific reasons and it's ok that they are only seasonal). It allowed me to not grieve when I moved back to the States, and let the friendship dissolve in many ways as I felt God told me it was seasonal (not to say we don't stay in touch a bit, but it's much different from when I was in Japan). I was and am free because God has shown me that He is trustworthy and when I obey Him I have nothing to worry about. He loves me so much.

I hope that made a little sense. Dying to myself is hard. When I was in Japan my journal was filled with entries where I'd note something "a lesson in dying to myself." God constantly asked to have things that I wanted to hold onto and asked me to just trust Him. Every single time I obeyed, He was faithful. It get's a little easier to trust after seeing so many times of faithfulness, but it's taken a lot of initial risk to find out my God really is as faithful as the Bible promises.

to begin again

I’ve spent the last week and a half settling in to my new home. Yesterday I finally took the last few things out of my bag and put them away in my room. It is strange to think that I have arrived at a home that isn’t in some way temporary. I have no idea what the future looks like and where God will lead, but for right now this is where He has me and my settling in. When I was at Biola I always planned to move back to the Northwest, and then in Japan I planned to move back somewhere after the year, but this time, I’m just here, waiting and resting for whatever God has planned. A couple days ago I went to the DMV to change my car registration and driver’s license. The guy at the registration counter told me I would need to surrender my Oregon plates to the lady at the other window. I laughed a little to myself as I thought about what he’d just said to me. For the fiver years prior to Japan, I never would have considered surrendering to California. But here I am, and I find it quite exciting.

I still don’t have a full time job, but there are very few moments when this actually worries me because God has proved to be so faithful in my life, and in bringing me here that it seems ridiculous to question why I don’t have a full time job yet. I do have a part time tutoring job that I’m thankful for, and I’m trusting that God will provide something so that I can pay my bills. I have this feeling that He’s also providing me with a lot of time that He’ll put to use as well. Who knows.

Speaking of provision, I don’t know that I ever mentioned how I’m living exactly where I’d hoped to live, but where up until a month or so before I moved back, there wasn’t a spot for me. It’s been an adjustment being back here in a totally different place from where I was before when I lived here, but it’s been really good. When I went to visit Oregon before moving down to California, it felt so incredibly normal, it was like Japan had been some sort of dream, but here it feels unfamiliar, like life really is changing and it’s exciting.

I live in a neighborhood that's predominantly Latino and so far I love it. There is a lot of life here. Lots of kids around and neighbors outside playing music. It’s kind of fun in that in some ways it feels like my experience in Japan and in some ways it’s opposite. The lively music is part of the opposite feeling from quiet Japan, but feeling a little like a minority and hearing people not speaking English feels similar to Japan, in a good way. It gives me an odd sort of feeling of comfort. I feel a little out of place, but that feeling feels normal to me.

I think one of my favorite things about being back, aside from just getting to settle in and feel kind of grounded, not like I’ll be up and leaving soon, is getting to reconnect with friends. Of course we’ve all changed a bit over the last year, but some of my fears of how it would be trying to reconnect, are gone. I’ve felt quickly accepted back into the group, even by those new people that are now friends of my friends. I thought I’d miss the adventuring I did all the time in Japan, but there are adventures to be had here as well. It’s been especially nice to have some time while looking for work, to just be. Not have work, and not having internet at my house, has given me the chance to slow down a bit. I’ve enjoyed being able to read and journal without the temptation to waste time on the computer. And I’ve had the chance to meet up with people without having to worry about a work schedule. I think that pretty soon this much time won’t be so enjoyable, but I’m believing that God’s going to provide things to do with my time so that I won’t have to worry to much about getting restless.

Anyway, I just thought this blog was long overdue. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I begin life here, serving God and loving people. Pray for a source of income to pay my expenses, pray that I’ll be able to love those that God has placed around me, and pray that God would direct as I want to be a support for the ministry my friends are a part of in the neighbor (solidarityrising.org).

All I wanted was a whiteboard eraser.

A couple days ago I took a trip to the store with my friend Drew. Our classes are in desperate need of new white board erasers and we thought it might be nice to get in a little bike ride as well. So we hopped on our bikes and headed for the home goods store about 25 min away. This store is huge and has a little bit of everything from lumber to puppies. We took our time browsing and then decided we really ought to find the erasers. Upon entering the stationary section we noticed an older Japanese man who walked to the end of the aisle at about the same time we entered it. Moments later this man yelled something down the way. Neither of us were paying too much attention, assuming he was simply yelling for a family member. But the yelling continued and he got a more irritated sound in his voice. After no one had responded to his first few yells he looks directly at Drew and yells something with such intense anger that Drew walks over very close to me and we decide we ought to relocate. So as we walk toward the other end of the aisle he yells again and Drew then tells me, "he thinks we are spies." We both give a nervous laugh and continue to walk away from this crazy man. (You may want to note that no one around us is responding in any way to this scene.) We exit the aisle and start walking left, and the man walks parallel to us and continues his angry yells and accusations of us being spies. So we attempt to lose the man and walk to the back of the store, near the tables that have heaters under them to keep you warm. It appeared that we had lost the crazy man. We spent a couple minutes in the back of the store, in a bit of shock, commenting to each other about the absurdity of the situation. Figuring the crazy man must have moved on to complete his shopping, we move toward the front of the store, constantly looking over our shoulders and peeking around corners as we go. To prove the point that indeed, we are not spies...we were unsuccessful at being inconspicuous and were spotted again by the crazy man who again pointed and yelled in fury. This motivated us to move very quickly back to the back of the store. After cowering by the bedding section for a while we decided we really should attempt an escape and this time were successful at making it to the cashier and exit without being spotted, although we had no erasers in hand. It was quite the interesting visit, being incredibly odd, quite frightening, and also very funny.

This incident did leave me thinking a bit about racism. The last 4 years of my life God has shown me a lot about how racism is still quite present in the states and is ever so present among Christians. I have begun to see how my thought processes were influenced by growing up in a society that really still favors white middle/upper class in many ways. My heart has been opened to see the need for those who follow Christ, to come along side one another and support and encourage those of all races in such a way that truly allows us to be one body of Christ. I have realized that I can not simply not be racist, I must be willing speak against those who are. But there is a part of me that knows that while I can sympathize with my "minority" brothers and sisters, I can never truly empathize. I grew up white in a safe suburban neighborhood with an intact family receiving a middle class income.

When I first got to Japan I heard about how the Japanese love to have tourists, but aren't too keen on more permanent foreigners. They are polite, but not necessarily welcoming. It occurred to me that here I might have opportunities to gain a better understanding of being a minority. Now I imagine it would be quite different if I lived here for 20 years and was still having people treat me like a stupid gaijin (foreigner), but at this point I find myself realizing that I will never truly understand what it is to face systematic and personal racism.

I got stopped on my bike by the police once because I'm white. It was when I had first come to Japan and I was a new foreign face in the neighborhood. But aside from arriving to my destination a few minutes later than if I had not been stopped, I was not really even inconvenienced. The officer was incredibly polite and seemed genuinely curious about who I was and why I was in Japan. The other day I got in line to wait for a train and the girl in front of me (the only other person in line) switched to a different longer line moments after I stood behind her. There was an open seat by me on a fairly crowded train and a couple friends who got on the train clearly had a difficult time deciding who ought to sit by me and who would sit in the seat across the way. I clearly made them feel uncomfortable, and not until I closed me eyes, pretending to doze, becoming a less threatening person, did any of them sit down by me. I got angrily accused of being a spy and no person intervened. But I still will never understand. You see in all these situations, there was no doubt in my mind that I am a valuable person. For 23 years of life my family, friends, classmates, and society have communicated to me that I have worth, I am intelligent, and I am worthy of respect. I have always been taught that I am just as good and capable as any other person. Heck, I grew up in Portland so I was taught that I'm not even limited by being female. So when someone calls me a spy with such an intense anger I don't doubt he may come after me, I never doubt my worth or my significance in the world. It rolls off all the years of positive messages and is left as a funny, yet adrenaline increasing experience in my mind.

I never will really understand. Part of me almost wanted to have this crazy man convince the security guards that I was a danger, so that I would be unjustly taken in and then treated unfairly etc etc so that maybe I could taste a bit of what it is to live out being discriminated against because of my race, but then again, that would have been incredibly scary and I'm very very grateful that was not the ending, and even then I'm not sure I would have understood what it is to live under racism daily. I never will be able to understand. Even when people treat me as a stupid foreigner it's something like, "oh wow... she can use chopsticks? how did she ever acquire such a difficult Japanese skill?" I don't know what it is to have to prove myself when applying for a job simply because I'm black. I don't know what it is to have people accuse me of being an illegal immigrant and taking American's jobs, because I am Latina. I don't know what it is to have someone call me names and tell me I'm a horrible criminal because I'm Latina and my family chose to escape the poverty or maybe even war in a native country and come to America. I don't know what it is to be the nameless "other" on the survey box as an Asian, or to have people assume my intelligence or interests based on my race. I don't know what it is to have police or FBI frequent my restaurant, "checking in" because my family is Middle Eastern. I will never understand. I want to be a voice of compassion, reconciliation, change, unity....but I am the face of those who persecute and I grew up being the favored "majority." I will never really understand, and I can't blame the minorities for fearing to place their trust in me.