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Well, it’s getting to the point where my options for buying things has dwindled to like two places.
I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I will need to get a loom and a sheep to start making my own clothes.
I’ve also realized that soon I’ll have to brew my own beer, even though I don’t drink it.
I’ll have to start smashing berries and color chalk to create makeup for myself.
It wasn’t that long ago that we were told that gender stereotypes were just a social construct. Females didn’t have to like the color pink or just play with dolls. Males didn’t have to just like blue and play with trucks.
And most of us said, “Yeah. Those things don’t make you female or male, it’s just that the genders tend towards certain things, that’s all.”
As a woman who has a wide—WIDE—range of interests, I understand that what I like doesn’t make me a woman. Part of me loves watching football, playing catch, listening to rock music, and mowing the lawn. The other part of me loves dresses, cooking, tea parties, and reading romantic classics. I have a very blended disposition.
But, now, we are told that if a man just puts on a dress, wears gobs of makeup, grows out his hair, and “feels” like a woman, well, all those are signs that he must be.
The current logic says that the social constructs DO prove you are a male or female.
Which is it, secular world?
Here, let me help you.
Men don’t have only one way they can be. Yeah, not all guys like big muscles, big trucks, and AC/DC. They are still a man.
Women don’t have only one way they can be. Yeah, not all women like long hair, dresses, or wearing makeup. They are still a woman.
See, what you’ve done here, is confined people to a very narrow box and ignored the complexities of human dispositions. For you, women are simply identified as long haired, makeuped, dress-wearing bimbos. Anyone like that—BOOM—woman. Men are simply identified as baggy-shirt wearing, bearded, ball-capped dudes. Anyone like that—BOOM—man.
God made us male and female. That’s it. Nobody is born in the wrong body. Everybody is unique and likes different things and has unique personalities; that doesn’t change the reality of biology.
Most of us aren't ever going to come across someone out in public who is literally battered, bruised, and left for dead. It's not impossible that we would stumble upon such a situation, but the chances are more likely that we will come in contact with someone that is spiritually or emotionally battered. Way back at the start of my husband's career in the Air Force, I took a summer job at base legal. I was a front office helper with very little work to do. Most days, I was bored out of my mind. There was too little work for too many people. This suited my immediate boss just fine. She was content to do nothing and even got annoyed when people came to receive services. Consequently, I spent much of my time at work trying to find anything to do. My time there was not long after 9/11 and a lot of people on base were deploying people. One day, the phone rang and I answered, "Base legal, this is Amy." The guy on the other end was crying and said, "Ma'am, I just came home from deployment and my wife took my kids, took everything in my house, and cleaned out my bank account. I have nothing. I'm just calling to see what my legal options are." I wasn't able to pass him off to a JAG officer right at that time, but I chose to stay on the phone with him and listen to him. I knew the truth of the matter was that base legal could help very little. He needed an outside attorney. But, I decided to offer my ear. After a good while of listening, I was able to pass him over to an attorney and our phone call ended. My immediate boss started scolding me by saying, "We are not a counseling agency. You can't be holding up the lines talking to people we can't help." I responded back, "Look, I am not about to hang up the phone on someone in that situation. I didn't counsel him, I offered my time and attention." Today's reading from the Gospel of Luke is about the Good Samaritan, a story we are all familiar with. Like I said in the beginning, most of us won't come across people on the side of the road left to die, but we will come across people that need our time, attention, and love. Have a blessed Sunday, Catholic Pilgrims. *Altar is from Mission San Gabriel in Los Angeles, CA
Continue ReadingYesterday, my oldest daughter and I were FaceTiming with my sister. At one point in the conversation, we got around to talking about an old boyfriend of my sister's that she dated like 20 years ago. Needless to say, he wasn't the best guy to her. My sister said, "Did I tell you guys that he wrote me a letter awhile back?" My daughter and I were shocked. "What?! No, you didn't tell us. What did he say?" My sister had a screen shot of it and she started searching for it to read it to us. While we were waiting, I was joking about him. In my mind, I assumed the letter was going to be some sappy I-want-you-back letter. I thought, "Oh, boy, can't wait to hear this pathetic letter. Of course, he's been obsessed with her all this time." My sister found it and she read it to us. After each sentence, I kept waiting for him to beg and plead for her back. But..he didn't. In fact, the letter was an apology letter. He apologized to my sister, took complete ownership for his bad behavior, and wished her well. That was it. No begging. No desperation. No strings attached. It was simply him trying to make amends. I was stunned. And then I felt two things: 1. Shame over how quick I was to assume that the letter was just going to be some pathetic attempt at getting my sister back after all these years and 2. A deep sadness that I have never received such a letter from my two boyfriends that treated me so terribly. Very quickly, though, I changed my heart and mind. I needed to be glad that my sister's ex had changed as a man and tried to make peace. We should be grateful when people have a true conversion and owe up to their sins. I needed to be thankful that he apologized to my sister. As for not receiving apology letters myself, well, I need to be okay with that. Maybe it will happen, but maybe it won't. I need to continue to pray, though, for my two ex-boyfriends regardless. May we always hope and pray that people find a way to confession, redemption, and, if possible, reconciliation, Catholic Pilgrims.
Continue ReadingThis is Mission Miguel in Sante Fe, New Mexico. It is the oldest church in the United States, which the original walls and altar built in 1610. It's so wonderful that we still have it. There was a time, when the church was the focal point of a town or village. Life moved and centered itself around the church, because the Sacraments were just that important. Whenever people moved to a new area, a church needed to be built. It was a necessity. You don't hear too often, though, of people moving to an area because of a vibrant church community. Jobs and schools are the two main considerations, which isn't bad in the slightest. Both of those things are important things to consider. However, I rarely, if ever, hear someone mention the importance of moving somewhere where the church community is strong and thriving. It's a lower-tiered consideration, if it's even one at all. Of course, work may call you to a place where life isn't centered around church and worship. In those circumstances, it is up to us to continue to find ways to feed our hearts and minds with good spiritual things. Our souls cannot be neglected. I love St. Frances Cabrini's practice. No matter where she was or what island or country she was sailing past, she always looked for the steeples to let her know where Jesus was residing in the Tabernacle. Have a blessed Tuesday, Catholic Pilgrims.
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