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Modesty Culture is a False Narrative

To be alive and paying attention in American society means that you are aware of the collective rage and pain of generations of women who are finding their voice and courage to share their #MeToo stories. And for every one that you hear, I can almost guarantee you that there are likely five more than you are not hearing and maybe never will.
The statistics vary, but in the year of 2018, it is said that one out of every three women has been sexually assaulted in her lifetime.

This is staggering. 
Look around you. Are there any women in your line of sight?
I just looked around my kitchen and saw one daughter putting away dinner and through the door, another one working on her math homework. Between the three of us, one of us has been or will be sexually assaulted. (Actually one of us has already been, but I'll tell that particular story another day.)

Now look further out to the classroom you learn or teach in -- to the gym you work out at -- and yes, even at the church you attend. …

One Wild Leap

I swear that the Facebook TimeHop feature is the source of both laughter and grief on a daily basis. And many times it's the same time.

My babies insist on getting older by the minute and sometimes seeing their little faces from even a year ago (let alone several years ago) steals my breath away. It's the cruel irony of motherhood that we are raising our kids to be independent and leave us behind. We want this for them, but at the same time, we want to press them close to our bodies and never let go.


Today, I saw a post I had written in 2011 about how I hated the kids' homework as much as they did and that's why I would never homeschool. Little did I know, that a few months later we'd be pulling our two girls out of school and...homeschooling them.

Oh life.

We think we have you all figured out and then you come along and smash our ideals, show us another perspective, bump into our pride, and basically upend what we thought was normal.

This girl. Th…

Show Me Your I.D.

It is apparent to me that the Church is going through an identity crisis of epic proportion -- both as an institution and as a group of believers.

I'll save the former for another blog post because in this post, I'd like to dialogue about the identity crisis of the latter.

As mentioned in recent posts, I have been going through my own personal identity crisis and wilderness experience, which I have started writing about and will continue to write about.

In the last few years, I have wrestled with how to address and give voice to the warning flags I feel compelled to raise, yet not lecture or alienate people whom I deeply love and with whom I have relationship.

And so I have stayed quiet for the most least publicly. After receiving a fair amount of push back for speaking out, I retreated inward and saved these conversations with my trusted few and Twitter. To be honest, it's felt lonely at times because I have not heard a lot of other voices speaking out about th…

A Lament for Christmas

As part of my Be-Wildered Series, I wanted to share this "Lament" that was written by a dear friend of mine.  To be honest, I was a bit afraid to read it initially, because I was not sure I could handle the waves of emotion.

You see, my friend Gina has suffered.

My smart, strong, confident, accomplished, independent friend has been brought low these two years by intolerable, persistent chronic pain. She has tried e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g to attempt to find a measure of relief, to get the pain to stop, to find out the mystery of what was happening inside of a body that has seemed to betray her.

As a friend, it's been hard to watch her struggle and fight and surrender and now lament through something that feels often like a cruel punishment from the God we both love and have followed our entire lives. There are no lofty words to bring comfort. No scripture verses that ease the burning. There is only sitting in the sometimes awkward silence of suffering and holding on tightly t…