My Problem With Princesses

30
Apr

Disney Princess Realness. (Photo credit: partymonstrrrr)

Some people have a problem with princesses. They think princesses are fluffy, vaporous, weak, voiceless or inconsequential. Maybe they think of a prissy girl who whines to get her way or is spoiled and adverse to work, ala Nellie Oleson from Little House on the Prairie. Remember Nellie and her Nellie curls?

I can see their point. Princess conjures up images of a child in too many crinolines who turns up her nose at cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off.

We generally don’t think of princesses as being people of power or influence. They’re more people of manipulation, pawns to be traded in marriage for treaties with other lands, demure fragile creatures who frequently made use of smelling salts and schemes to get the prettiest ribbons.

Not exactly a flattering picture is it?

It’s no wonder the idea gets dismissed.

There are a lot of women in Christian circles trying to reclaim their self-esteem and identity by taking on the mantle of royalty. The idea is that if one follows God and identifies as a daughter of God, also called the King of Glory, that relationship makes her a princess. In a lot of ways this shift in attitude helps people have more self-respect and approach the world with more confidence.

If “princess” conjures up fragility, fickleness or being trapped in a tower waiting to be saved by someone else, this role will not work for you.

Super Blast Princess Daisy, Flicker

When I think of princesses, sometimes I imagine someone more along the lines of one of the Charlie’s Angels or Lara Croft. Powerful, feminine, intelligent and strong…okay Cameron Diaz’s character wasn’t too smart, but she had other strengths.

When female Christians try to claim an identity as princesses, I admit it rubs me the wrong way. It sounds corny or as if they didn’t get to live out their princess-y dreams of childhood. And with all the glitter and “Pink” written across in velour across shapely backsides, I can understand the hesitation to identify with the old version of princess.

Plus, I’m an adult. I don’t need to regress into being a sequin-clad toddler diva who gets animal crackers with pink icing, picks out only the giraffes because they’re my favorite (they’re not – I tend to favor the hippos and elephants) and throws tantrums to get my way.

However,

I don’t know of many women who don’t want to be made to feel special.

Valued,Beautiful,

Worth listening to,

With a perspective that is worthwhile and valid.

There are times when we who follow Jesus need to have an attitude check about how we view ourselves and whether we’re accurately honoring our heritage of being adopted into God’s family. Most times that has to do with relation to the world around us, but it is an internal exercise as well. How do we view and treat ourselves? Are we treating ourselves with respect? What kind of messages are we giving ourselves during that internal dialogue that’s constantly running in our heads?

Maybe princess isn’t the right term.

Maybe queen…

Hmmm…that might not work.

What about Secretary of State, or Madame Speaker? Madame Pope?

None of those are quite right either.

CEO doesn’t do it, nor does Mother.

So until someone comes up with a term that adequately sums up the struggle of being heard despite being a female, being seen as having a relevant voice despite having breasts, being intelligent as well being able to express emotions, princess might have to do it for us,

For now…

Unless the word “woman” is the term we’ve been looking for all along. Then it might be staring at us from our own mirrors and we’re just not able to recognize it yet.

Do you think “princess” is the right word to identify the women in your life? Do you ever have to wrestle down negative messages about yourself? How do you accomplish it? How can you treat yourself with love today?

Five Minute Friday: Friend

26
Apr

This post is part of Five Minute Friday, a link up through www.lisajobaker.com . If you’re here as a part of it, hello! and thanks for stopping by! You can find out more on her website, but here’s a quick summary of what Five Minute Friday is:

It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

Today’s prompt is the word Friend.

***

I’ve been the new girl a lot. Growing up we moved a few times (nothing compared to a military brat – those kids have it hard) and not always at easy transition points. Even saying that, though, I realize that over time I’ve adopted the role of being the new girl as part of my historical identity, and that has given me a gift, whether I was the new girl all that much or not.

My gift?

Aren’t we fancy with our 1990’s hair?

Making friends.

I don’t mind making new friends.

And being someone who has had to make new friends has given me an eye for being the new girl.

I notice it a lot at church.

The things people take for granted at church are astounding. If you are the new girl at a church, you probably don’t know the layout of the building, therefore signs or lables are very helpful. Friendly greeters or people with a girft of saying hello are extremely helpful. It’s important to cultivate an environment of hospitality. (Am I supposed to take communion if I accidentally come when it is being served? Do you guys charge for donuts and will I get the cold stare if I don’t put a quarter in your little wicker basket?) Use terminology that everyone can understand.

Church friends can be the best friends because they share a common value of investing in spiritual life and making time for it each week. On the flip side, churches have cliques just like high schools, and coming into a new church can be an intimidating experience.

Do you have an eye for what new people see when they enter your church or place of worship? Is it a place where new people feel welcomed?

Why I’m Okay with a Little Sass From My Son

24
Apr

Today I’m so happy to tell you about my sassy son who sasses me while drinking a cold glass of sasafrass in the tall grass. Okay let’s be done with that. I apologize. But I am posting over at my friend’s fantastic blog, Chris Morris Writes. And I really am writing about my son, who is developing a little bit of pre-tween attitude (is pre-tween a term? I should copyright that quick!).

Please click here http://wp.me/p3eHCc-dr to read my post, and while you’re there, be sure to dig into other posts Chris has up. He has a unique perspective and is a real stand-up guy. I know you’ll love his blog.

Changing Your Mind: Waffling vs. Maturity

22
Apr

We’ll also call this post Waffle-Eating Waffle Heads, just for fun.

Changing your mind might not be a sign of a weak position.

In politics we view with disdain a candidate changing his/her position on an issue. It is sometimes seen as a weakness or lack of understanding of political complexities. However, the ability to hold a new and opposing position alongside one already believed is actually an indicator of a growing ability to reason (maybe not in politics, since how much actual reason is used in that arena??).

There are a lot of people who cannot do this. Tons of them.

There are many people who, once they come to a conclusion, are unwilling to hear about anything that contradicts that conclusion.

You run into this a lot in Christian circles.

Take for example, the topic of women in leadership.

Okay, I know they aren’t waffles. They’re Swedish Pancakes. But they’re also a tasty breakfast food!

Many people have feelings about this. Feelings they hold deeply because the implications of changing a view affects their world with a ripple, like fluffing air under a sheet when you’re making the bed.

If women have a right to be in leadership, what positions of leadership? Is there a top end? Is it an arbitrary top end or is there Biblical evidence for it? Could there be a female Pope? What about women in leadership roles outside the church? Oh no, is this going to affect my interactions with that woman in middle management at work, the one I’ve given passive aggressive attitude all these years? Will this have implications for the way I parent with my spouse? You know what? Forget it. Entertaining this new idea is too much work.

Too much work.

And it is work, but remember what that used to be like? Try to remember times when the world was opening up to you, when you found out about new ideas, more efficient strategies for organizing information, totally world-changing theories or worldviews that you had to work to understand. It was at once an exciting and threatening time, because your previously held views were being challenged.Why do adults think that once they hit a certain age their thoughts and beliefs must be set in cement?

I understand that it is important to know ones values and figure out the main tenants of your approach to life. But in the details, in the subtle ways our thoughts inform our attitudes, isn’t it fair to think there could be continued maturation and growth?

Rather than being intimidated or threatened by new ideas, I really think it is healthy to allow yourself to entertain new concepts. Just considering a new idea or belief doesn’t make you a heretic nor does it disvalue the beliefs you already hold. It does show evidence of a mature intellect that can see the merit in something that was previously unknown or misunderstood. You might be shocked to learn that in many instances…

People who hold beliefs that are different than yours hold those beliefs for a reason, often reasons that are as well-thought-out as the beliefs you hold.

I’m a big believer in conversations. We can all learn something from talking to other people, finding out what they think and why. New ideas don’t have to be scary or intimidating, and they can even solidify the reasons why you hold the beliefs you do.

On that note, let’s talk! What changes have you had in your approach to the world? In what ways have you changed your mind over time?

Five Minute Friday: Jump

19
Apr

Lately I’ve been participating in Five Minute Fridays, a blog link up hosted by Lisa Jo Baker. She gives a word prompt to inspire you and you write, unedited (mostly) for five minutes. You can read other posts at www.lisajobaker.com . Here are the details:

On Fridays around these parts we like to write. Not for comments or traffic or anyone else’s agenda. But for pure love of the written word. For joy at the sound of syllables, sentences and paragraphs all strung together by the voice of the speaker.

We love to just write without worrying if it’s just right or not. For five minutes flat.

***

Feel the tension build in your legs then s-p-r-ING you up and out.

Feel the wind rush past your ears.

Feel the absence of weight and worry.

There is no fear, no moment but this.

Why can’t we abandon ourselves to leap this way? To jump into the waiting arms of our father, who treads water just past the end of the diving board.

We are paralyzed at the edge of the cliff, count ourselves down over and over before we almost lose our balance and retreat to safety.

What if we would let ourselves fall? What would we risk? A physical injury? Humilation? Failure? Or might we find flight? If we dared to set aside our excuses and busybody schedules and made space for the dream, could we discover we have wings?

Would it be a state of suspended animation if our wings didn’t unfurl immediately?

Would we hang in midair like an osprey who hovers over her watery prey? Or would we become comical, like Wile E. Coyote, legs spinning but getting nowhere?

Even if we crashed and burned, belly-flopped, tanked, yard sale or did a face-plant, I like to think the moment of flight and freedom would be worth it.

***

Question: have you ever failed horribly? What risks have you taken lately?

Poetry E-Book Now Available (And Awesome)

18
Apr

I like free. Do you like free? Who doesn’t like free? I mean, come on! Well, have I got a deal for you… *end used car salesman shtick*

But really, I want to tell you about a fun adventure, the fruits of which you might enjoy.

If you’re a super quick blog skimmer, here’s the link, so you won’t even have to scroll down. Am I helpful or what?! http://gabrielgadfly.com/writestuff/ You’re welcome. 🙂

I’m a part of a writers group on Facebook, Writers Unite. I hope I’ve mentioned it here before, because if you are looking for a fantastic group of committed writers, Writers Unite is the place for you. People are supportive, encouraging, collegial, funny and have a wealth of knowledge. They host a Twitter chat party on Tuesday nights that you can find (if you’re interested) using the hashtag #writestuff .

(Just a little aside, but are we connected on Twitter? If not, click the sidebar over here ——————> and we can join efforts in taking over the world.)

Okay, moving on. This group of writers opened up an opportunity to submit a poem and have it critiqued and considered for a free poetry e-book they put together.

It was gutsy, by my standards, but I went for it and submitted a poem. Note: I am not a poet. And I know it. (Stop stop, my sides hurt I’m laughing so hard.)

But I somehow tricked them into liking what I wrote. They offered some suggestions of things that weren’t as effective, I changed some things, and it actually made it into the collection!

!!!

That’s the adventure. That’s the story. Here’s the link so you can download your free FREE free copy today. And you should know that many of the people who submitted are also bloggers and writers, so try to look them up and check out their work around the interwebs.

As always, thank you so much for reading and following. I genuinely appreciate it. Whoops! The link: http://gabrielgadfly.com/writestuff/

Poetry (Photo credit: Kimli)

http://penpaperpad.com/2013/04/guest-post-poetry-for-all-my-friends/

16
Apr

http://penpaperpad.com/2013/04/guest-post-poetry-for-all-my-friends/

Today I’m excited and honored to be guest posting at Pen Paper Pad, particularly because it is National Poetry Month. T.A. Woods is a talented poet and insightful writer (and funny too) so when you’re done reading my brilliant post, be sure to snoop around!

Guest Post by Chris Morris: Even at 2am, It’s Not All About Me

10
Apr

Today I’m happy to welcome Chris Morris as a guest blogger. He’s a busy guy, juggling family and day job while bravely submitting his work to different publications and blogging. He also has a collaborative, positive spirit that comes through in his online interactions. I’m excited about what’s in store for Chris, and I’m honored to have him here today.

Even at 2 am, It’s Not All About Me

by Chris Morris

At 2 am, it’s hard to keep track of how fast you are driving, especially when you are in Podunkville, Nevada. Priorities shift quickly though, when the Podunkville police car suddenly pulls out behind you and starts trailing you. This was my situation ten years ago, on the way to my best friend’s wedding in Carson City, Nevada.

I am not typically paranoid, but I definitely noticed the cop car. Especially after he followed me when I turned left. I nudged my wife awake and explained the situation. “Probably just a coincidence. Turn right up here, and he won’t follow you.” I listened, but the police officer didn’t—he followed me again.

His lights weren’t flashing, but it didn’t matter. I was in freak-out mode. We checked to make sure we had current registration and insurance…and we somehow had no proof of insurance. Panic set in. I didn’t know Nevada laws. What if I ended up with a huge fine, or even in jail? (The ridiculousness of youth; jail for no insurance?)

Photoshopcop (MorgueFile).

In the hope of alleviating my fears, I turned left again, this time into an alley. Surely the police officer won’t follow me down this road too. Wrong again! He followed me, still no flashing lights though. At this point, I was honestly getting irritated. “He needs to light me up or stop followi…”

My wife interrupted my righteous complaint by pointing and laughing hysterically. I was about to be offended when I saw it. The Podunkville Police Station. At the end of the alley. I had unwittingly driven directly to the station. Of course the police car was following me!

I pulled over, but not because of the police officer. We were both laughing hysterically. How is it even possible that I managed to find the Police Station in a town I have never visited? Why did I let fear corral my heart? Was I really worried about prison?

In that moment, I had a stark realization. No matter how badly I want it to be true, and even if circumstances seem to coalesce in such a way as to confirm my suspicions, the world does not revolve around me. Sometimes I just drive to the Podunkville Police Station at 2 am and have a police car follow me. But it’s still not about me.

A decade later, I still forget this sometimes. I act as though I sit upon the throne of the world as its ruler. But never with such unbelievable results.

What’s your best story from when you thought it was all about you?

Chris Morris is a CPA by day, but a creative at heart. He loves telling stories to inspire and encourage. He also loves a great cup of coffee, preferably French press. He writes at http://www.chrismorriswrites.com. You can follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/cmorriswrites. You can find him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ChrisMorrisWriter.

Leaking Into Everything: Faith and Writing

28
Mar

This post is a part of a linkup with the Writers Unite group on Facebook. Search the Twitter hashtag #faithartlife to find other blogs that are participating in the linkup. You’re bound to find some great stuff.

Confession time.

I tend to compartmentalize things.

You wouldn’t be able to tell from looking around my house, since there’s pot holders in with the kitchen knives, potting soil next to the hats and scarves, and Lego guys next to the jewelry box. In the organizational sense, I wish I was better at compartmentalizing. My home could benefit from the “a place for everything, and everything in its place” mentality.

But when it comes to friends, children, work, church, and grocery shopping, I tend to forget these circles overlap. It’s a bit like running into an old high school friend in a different city; you don’t picture that person anywhere other than where you knew them.

Or it’s the same way children think their teachers never leave the school building and are mystified (and slightly alarmed) to run into a teacher at the library or a parade. Are the teachers allowed outside the confines of school? Yes, yes they are.

There are a couple things though, that I can’t contain even if I try, things that can’t be shoved into a box and put away neatly:

Winter Beauty

Writing,

and

my faith in Jesus.

These two just spill out all over the place, willy-nilly.

They pervade my thoughts and attitudes, my observations, the way I listen, and my interactions with others. I can’t control it.

Here’s a practical example. My husband and I made a quick stop at a store last night and while he bought the few items we needed, I picked up coffee and waited for him at a table. Waddoya know, a man sat down at the table next to mine, clearly upset.

Two internal reactions:

1. Here’s a prime candidate for a slightly creepy, unpredictable character straight out of a Flannery O’Connor story. He had bandages on his fingertips, white socks with black orthopedic shoes, mumbled to himself and was sighing loudly and frequently. Another potential character was the employee, a Loud Talker who practically yelled at the poor guy when she asked him to wait while she got the incident report papers. This was great material.

2. Here’s a prime candidate for expressing care to someone who might need a little loving attention, an acknowledgment of his human-ness and inherent value as one of God’s creations. This guy was aching to talk to someone. I found out he fell and twisted his knee while checking out, and was worried that he might have busted stiches in his hand from his recent accident with a TABLE SAW when he almost lost three fingers.

You can’t make this stuff up, folks. Well, you can, but often the real stuff is just as compelling.

It was a brief encounter. I had to make a choice to engage that guy or keep my eyes on my coffee cup. That’s where art is not enough. Studying him to use in an upcoming suspense story is detaching myself from the situation and ignoring my role as an inhabitant of the world I observe.

My faith influences my writing and my writing gives me new insight into my faith. They flow back and forth into one another, leaking all over the place with no thought of compartments or boundaries…

…which is just the way I like it.

Purdy Leather Flowers

I Miss Palm Sunday

25
Mar

Hosanna! (Photo credit: Lawrence OP)

Update: In the original post, I neglected to mention some important information! This blog post is part of a link-up for faith, art and life. To find other blogs that are participating, logon to Twitter and search the Twitter hashtag #faithartlife. There are bound to be a lot of great posts, and I think you’ll be encouraged to discover new bloggers for whom faith is an intricate part of life and art.

My family and I go to a large church in a northern suburb of the Twin Cities. I mean LARGE. And they’ve got great, dynamic, creative kids programming that all my children love being a part of.

But they don’t have Palm Sunday.

At least, they don’t have Palm Sunday the way I had it as a child.

Do you remember?

Remember finally getting to wear the special shoes your mom wouldn’t let you wear unless you were on a rug or carpeted area, even though they were so pretty with their little strap and tiny latch and shiny gold lining?

Remember the fancy dress you got to wear with the lace trim that made it extra-specially special? Maybe it had a petticoat or crinoline if you were really lucky? And you didn’t mind the buttons and how long you had to stand still while someone else buttoned them, as if you were doing them a favor by holding still for so long, rather than seeing what an act of love their buttoning was.

And remember the palm branches the kids all got to wave as they walked through the sanctuary?

“Hosanna, hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”

You got to sing

and walk down the aisles

and be the center of attention

English: Description: Left Apsis: Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. Fresco in the Parish Church of Zirl, Austria. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

and wave your palm branch

and wave at your parents

and hit your neighbor in the eye with your palm branch,

then try to explain how it was an accident,

then get pushed away by the injured party,

then forget the self control you promised your mother you’d remember and push the one-eyed kid back, just a little bit,

then wave your palm branch vigorously to cover the rude faces you and the kids were now making at each other while standing on the platform in front of the entire congregation.

Afterwards, you’d get to bring your palm branch home, a small piece of greenery to get your through the rest of the Minnesota snowscape, which may or may not be gone by the time you want to look for your Easter basket seven days later. Nothin’ says spring like going on an Easter egg hunt in your parka and snow pants.

Remind me why my church doesn’t do Palm Sunday like we used to when I was little? Oh that’s right, because the grown-ups finally came to their senses.

Disclaimer: Even though it doesn’t sound like it in this post, I really do miss Palm Sunday for the kids. It was a great part of the rhythm of church life, and even though it was sometimes disorderly and had potential for chaos to break out at any moment, it was a time when the adults and children in the church got to share a moment together. And those moments are precious…even if they are messy.