This post is rated PG-13, but it's still totally worth your time
So in August, I said this: “Lately, I can’t handle certain boys anymore, and have just quit trying. Seriously. I’m quitting boys because there’s too much other crap going on, and I can’t handle it. Nor do I want to.”
And I thought I meant it, but I guess I didn’t.
I mean it now.
I’m so tired of dealing with guys. I’m just going to quit them. Quit guys altogether. They’re either not getting straightforward rejection or cutting me off in traffic or staring at inappropriate parts of my body or offering to “set me up with somebody” or getting all up in my business, and I don’t appreciate it.
But I suppose the crowning glory was last night, during a discussion about our church with some members of the singles group and one past member. I was trying—and doing a horrible job—of explaining this missional steering committee idea and what we actually do, and how part of our job is discerning how our church can become relevant to our neighborhood and society and how God is at work in our church and city and world, and we have the great opportunity to plug into that if we could be less “it’s all about me” focused. And a male friend commented that he didn’t approve of that discerning scenario. I told him—lovingly—that it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t a member there anymore anyway, so what did he care?
Then, he let me know that he doesn’t like the fact that a young woman is discerning the direction of the church. At which point I believe I reiterated my previous statement. I didn’t get angry about it at the time, but I’ve had a while to think about it since then. (When I told one of my best friends about it last night, I think she was slightly shocked that I wasn’t really upset. So she was upset for me, which is what best friends are for.)
But I think if this friend had attacked my discernment abilities, then I might have agreed with him. I mean, God has been pretty silent since Mission Year, and I have never tried to hide that fact. Actually, this friend and I had just spent part of Friday night discussing this as we were on our way to pee-in-a-hole camping. Instead, however, he attacked my sex and my age.
This makes no sense to me. I know that this friend has one of those the-man-is-in-charge-and-the-woman-does-all-the-submitting philosophies (I think this is partially because he needed a companion to his homosexuals-can-be-counseled-into-heterosexuality philosophy, and I guess they’re a matching set), but I still don’t see what that has to do with my discernment capabilities. I mean, does the fact that I have a vagina instead of a penis make me a bad discerner? Does the penis act like an antenna? Does it allow the man to hear God more clearly? If so, then I missed THAT day of bible class. (But I really would love to hear Roy Parker say the word penis, lol.)
And as far as my age is concerned, I’m not sure that I’ve gotten any better at hearing God as I’ve gotten older. Maybe we should just ask very young kids what God would want us to do. I bet they’ve got some pretty radical and humorous ideas. . .we’ll just have to ask only the male children, I guess.
And, y’know, when my friend made the comment about my age and sex, I think the rest of the people in the room expected my head to explode. But it didn’t—I still love my friend, and I understand that I was doing a really crappy job of explaining the purpose of this steering committee. And I tease him all the time about his conservative-ness. Maybe I expected him to have more faith in me, but I guess I forgot that his conservative views aren't just a joke.
And yet. . .I hope my friend hears God. And I hope God tells him that I’m right. And then I hope God tells him that she really is a woman and to stop thinking with his penis.
Come to think of it, I’d really like to hear God say the word penis, too.
posted by A. Lo @ 6:24 PM
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