That’s what she said

Hang on to your seats, people, there was just too much good stuff on the webs lately this is going to be especially long.

I’m a Jesus Feminist by Idelette. Yes, this

I am all for beautiful mutual submission–becoming servants of the highest good in each other–but I’ve had enough of skewed  submission language clubbing our girls into a distorted picture of the heart of God.

Purple Boots, Silver Stars…and White Parents by Frank Ligtvoet in The New York Times had me chocked up this morning. 

Raising kids of color by white parents is not just a matter of love; it requires a racial consciousness that is common in families of color, but rarely developed in white families. And it needs an understanding that one’s family is not only challenged by the centrifugal force of the adoptive identity of the children, but also by the tensions of their broken cultural and racial identity. These fractures cannot be fixed, but need to be addressed with empathy by competent parents. We cannot take away loss, but we can teach our kids and ourselves to learn to live with it, and to live good lives with it.

This timely piece by The Oatmeal, Christopher Columbus was awful (but this other guy was not). 

Can’t really quote this one, just read it. 🙂

Anyone who knows me as listened to my curmudgeon-esque ranting about sugary snacks at school, sporting events and the like. Stacey Connor wrote this and I was agreeing all along the way.

If we don’t want to raise kids who struggle with the food issues of our generation we need to stop the constant association of positive social events and sugar.

Love Tara Livesay’s blog and particularly In which I talk about hair and adoption

It feels like I am free to be a normal human fallible parent with the kids that are stuck with me because I pushed them out of my body, but with these children we’ve adopted – I don’t allow that same measure of grace. For them I need to find a way to never make a misstep, always understand what they are facing, never allow people to decide things about them based on untruth, and protect them from experiencing pain in their lives.

As for the most disturbing/enlightening piece I read: this monster, Porn is the most pernicious threat facing children today.

‘When you interview young women about their experiences of sex, you see an increased level of violence: rough, violent sex,’ she says. ‘That is directly because of porn, as young boys are getting their sexual cues from men in porn who are acting as if they’re sexual psychopaths. ‘Pornography is sexually traumatising an entire generation of boys.’

Loved the vulnerability in Glennon’s post 6 reasons social media is dangerous for me. I think we can all relate on one level or another. 

 I had become unable to just sit with myself. I have Be Still tattooed on my wrist because I know that feelings, creativity, inspiration, wisdom, peace and the rest of the good stuff knock during empty moments – and that if we’re too “busy” to answer the door – they sneak into our souls through cracked windows and haunt us. We have to answer the knocks we hear in the quiet because it’s our LIFE knocking. 

 ’12 years a slave’ portrays religion at its best and worst. Calling myself a Christian means I’m entering the tension of disassociating with the ones using religion to control and associating myself with the ones who see it as a freeing force-but still loving them all. 

This perspective should particularly resonate with Christians because much of the Gospels tell of explosive conflicts between the Pharisees and Jesus. They are more than personal disagreements, but rather clashes between those who insisted on using religion to control and One who rightly saw faith as a freeing force. The difference between Jesus and the Pharisees is, to some extent, the chasm between slave owners and abolitionists. “12 Years a Slave” forces audiences to enter this tension and determine which side of the chasm they are on.

As someone working in the fitness industry, I adored this post and wanted to send it to everyone I know. What people really look like. 

Everybody on a massage table is beautiful. There are really no exceptions to this rule. At that first long sigh, at that first thought that “I can stop hanging on now, I’m safe” – a luminosity, a glow, begins. Within a few minutes the whole body is radiant with it. It suffuses the room: it suffuses the massage therapist too. People talk about massage therapists being caretakers, and I suppose we are: we like to look after people, and we’re easily moved to tenderness. But to let you in on a secret: I’m in it for the glow. I’ll tell you what people look like, really: they look like flames. Or like the stars, on a clear night in the wilderness.
If you have an hour, watch this. Just. watch. Girl, Adopted.
I’m looking forward to seeing the documentary discussed in this post at Salon.com. It will be a fascinating commentary on how we consumers of media let it overtake us too often. 
Media can be a form of brainwashing depending on the viewer/listener. Most people who choose to ingest one type of media are going to get influenced by that media. Unless people read a lot on their own—and most people don’t have time to—they will listen to and believe whatever is fed them. And that’s easier to do when you have uneducated masses of people. A less educated mass also serves the corporate purpose…There are also those who gravitate toward an authoritarian media who blame others for your troubles. If people aren’t doing well in life, it gives them a passion to be angry and have someone else to blame, like poor people and minorities.
Nicholas Kristof’s article From the Streets to the ‘World’s Best Mom’ gives a glimpse into the sex trade in America.
In short, there are steps we can take that begin to chip away at the problem, but a starting point is greater empathy for women like Simpkins who were propelled into the vortex of the sex trade — and a recognition that the problem isn’t hopeless. To me, Simpkins encapsulates not hopelessness but the remarkable human capacity for resilience.
What are you guys reading?
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