Women, Gifted to Lead ~ A Reading List

The books and websites on this list were recommended to me by women and men I respect. I haven’t read everything (yet!), but I’ve been working my way through the list. I’ve put an asterisk next to the ones I’ve read so far and recommend.

I’m grateful for these words, explanations, illustrations, and Scripture commentaries that are helping to articulate what I already believed in my bones to be true:

God gifts women to serve at every level of church leadership. A church that doesn’t urge women to use their God-given gifts is anemic, unhealthy, and missing out on a full-bodied church experience. History and patriarchy have perpetuated this enormous loss for both women and men in the church and society. But it doesn’t have to be this way. Not anymore.

Here are some books that will open your eyes to the faulty ways the church goes about reading, interpreting, and teaching the Bible, especially as it pertains to women:

*The Blue Parakeet by Scot McKnight

Discovering Biblical Equality: Biblical, Theological, Cultural, and Practical Perspectives by Christa L. McKirland (Associate Editor) Ronald W. Pierce (Editor) Cynthia Long Westfall (Editor)


*Emboldened: A Vision for Empowering Women in Ministry by Tara Beth Leach


The Equality Workbook: Freedom in Christ from the Oppression of Patriarchy by Helga and Bob Evans

Finally Feminist: A Pragmatic Christian Understanding of Gender by John G. Stackhouse, Jr.

*Gender Roles and the People of God: Rethinking What We Were Taught about Men and Women in the Church by Alice Matthews


*Half the Church: Recapturing God’s Global Vision for Women by Carolyn Custis James

Icons of Christ: A Biblical and Systematic Theology for Women’s Ordination by William Witt

***The Making of Biblical Womanhood: How the Subjugation of Women Became Gospel Truth by Beth Allison Barr

Malestrom: Manhood Swept Into the Currents of a Changing World by Carolyn Custis James

The Ministry of Women in the New Testament: Reclaiming the Biblical Vision for Church Leadership by Dorothy Lee

Ordaining Women by B.T. Roberts

Paul and Gender: Reclaiming the Apostle’s Vision for Men and Women in Christ by Cynthia Westfall

Paul, Women, & Wives: Marriage and Women’s Ministry in the Letters of Paul by Craig S. Keener

Paul Through Mediterranean Eyes: Cultural Studies in 1 Corinthians by Kenneth E. Bailey

Reclaiming Eve: The Identity and Calling of Women in the Kingdom of God by Suzanne Burden

*Recovering from Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: How the Church Needs to Rediscover Her Purpose by Aimee Byrd

*Rediscovering Scripture’s Vision for Women: Fresh Perspectives on Disputed Texts by Lucy Peppiatt

Slaves, Women Homosexuals: Exploring the Hermeneutics of Cultural Analysis by William J. Webb

Womanist Midrash by Dr. Wilda C. Gafney

A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church: Year A by Dr. Wilda C. Gafney


The Women’s Lectionary by Ashley M. Wilcox

Others:

*Beyond Sex Roles by Gilbert Bilezikian

Great Women of the Christian Faith by Edith Deen

How I Changed My Mind about Women in Leadership: Compelling Stories from Prominent Evangelicals by Alan F. Johnson (Editor)

Junia is Not Alone by Scot McKnight

Women in a Patriarchal World by Elaine Storkey

Online Resources:

Marg Mowczko–a website exploring the biblical theology of Christian egalitarianism.

The Junia Project–provides support, encouragement, and biblically-based resources to help women thrive in all areas of life.

CBE International–Proclaiming God’s design for equal partnership between men and women.

“One in Christ: A Week of Mutuality,” a blog series by Rachel Held Evans dedicated to discussing an egalitarian view of gender—including relevant biblical texts and practical applications. The goal is to show how scripture, tradition, reason, and experience all support a posture of equality toward women, one that favors mutuality rather than hierarchy, in the home, Church, and society.

This post includes affiliate links for Bookshop, an online bookstore with a mission to financially support local, independent bookstores.

A Celebration of Women: Book Review of Defiant by Kelley Nikondeha

What if we read the Bible with an activated imagination? Through a narrative retelling of the Exodus story, Kelley Nikondeha emphasizes notes of the story not usually stressed as she focuses on key women in the tale. Kelley integrates liberation stories of gutsy women activists such as Mahalia Jackson, Emma Gonzalez, Ahed Tamini, Dolores Huerta, Emilie Schindler, Rosa Parks, and many other justice-seeking women.

Kelley artfully threads her own unique story as an adopted daughter born to a Mexican mother, a mother to two children by adoption, and her intercultural marriage to a man from Burundi. Kelley is a talented writer and intelligent Bible scholar, so readers who appreciate great literature will admire her expertise in storytelling. Of the many women mentioned in the book, I found Kelley’s personal story as compelling as the other women she profiles. More than anything, Defiant is first and foremost a celebration of women.

Defiant is first and foremost a celebration of women. Click To Tweet

As a former teacher myself, this book would provide excellent topics to discuss in a classroom since students could learn about various women in history who have made an impact through activism. Along with this, people of faith would benefit from reading a book using the Bible as a springboard to discuss personal responsibility as a catalyst for social change. Rather than divorcing social activism and religious faith, this book reflects the value of living out faith in practical ways in society.

While some conservative critics may consider the book to be “extra biblical,” or too heavy on creative storytelling, followers of Jesus often need a fresh look at Scripture to resuscitate familiar Bible characters to life. In the case of Defiant, I had never heard of many of the women Kelley focused on, though I’ve read Exodus many times. Growing up in patriarchal church structures, male pastors rarely preached about women. But as dissection specimens are injected with blue or pink dye, Kelley’s retelling illuminated the hidden women of Exodus, while causing the more-often celebrated men to fade into the background. As a woman used to hearing from and about men, Defiant was extremely refreshing.

Defiant is creative, smart, and liberating. Not only will you glean new knowledge of old truths as you read, you will be swept away in the story and the power that storytelling can achieve in the world.

*This post includes Amazon affiliate links.

Rockin’ New Books (by Female Authors) to Read in 2019

Did you know books with traditional publishers almost always release on Tuesdays? You’re welcome for that random bit of trivia you can use to wow strangers at your next party. Until I entered this publishing gig, I had no idea. According to this article, the main three reasons may be “ease of distribution, a level playing field for booksellers and a better shot at the bestseller list.” Who knew?

I’m marking my Tuesdays for the following books coming out in 2019. Be sure you do the same (and offer up some book/writer-love by sharing this post and pre-ordering a few of these amazing new titles!).

January

True You: Letting Go of Your False Self to Uncover the Person God Created by Michelle DeRusha (Baker Books)

The Bright Life: 40 Invitations to Reclaim Your Energy for the Full Life by Jen Wise (Zondervan)

Maid: Hard Work, Low Pay and a Mother’s Will to Survive by Stephanie Land (Hachette)

Taste and See: Discovering God Among Butchers, Bakers and Fresh Food Makers by Margaret Feinberg (Zondervan)

Hermanas: Deepening Our Humanity and Growing Our Influence by Natalia Kohn Rivera, Noemi Vega Quinones, Kristy Garza Robinson (IVP)

February

Uncluttered: Free Your Space, Free Your Schedule, Free Your Soul by Courtney Ellis (Hendrikson Publishers, Inc.)

The Waiting Room: 60 Meditations for Finding Peace and Hope in a Health Crisis by Elizabeth Turnage

The Louder Song: Listening for Hope in the Midst of Lament by Aubrey Sampson (NavPress)

The Color of Life: A Journey Toward Love and Racial Justice by Cara Meredith (Zondervan)

Becoming Coztōtōtl poems by Carolina Hinojosa-Cisneros (Flower Song Books)

And Social Justice for All: Empowering Families, Churches and Schools to Make a Difference in God’s World by Lisa Van Engen (Kregel Publications)

March

Holy Envy: Finding God in the Faith of Others by Barbara Brown Taylor (HarperOne)

Placemaker: Cultivating Places of Comfort Beauty, and Peace by Christie Purifoy (Zondervan)

A Brave Face: Two Cultures, Two Families, and the Iraqi Girl Who Bound them Together by Barbara Marlowe, Teeba Furat Marlowe and Jennifer Keirn (Thomas Nelson)

Latch, poems by Jen Stewart Fueston (March/River Glass Books)

April

Loving My Actual Neighbor: 7 Practices to Treasure the People Right in Front of You by Alexandra Kuykendall (Baker Books)

Brave Souls: Experiencing the Audacious Power of Empathy by Belinda Bauman (IVP)

Glorious Weakness: Discovering God in All We Lack by Alia Joy (Baker Books)

The Next Right Thing: A Simple, Soulful Practice for Making Life Decisions by Emily P. Freeman (Revell)

May

The God Who Sees: Immigrants, the Bible and the Journey to Belong by Karen Gonzalez (Herald Press)

We Will Feast: Rethinking Dinner, Worship and the Kingdom of God by Kendall Vanderslice (May/Eerdmans)

Surprised by Paradox: The Promise of “And” in an Either-Or World by Jen Pollock Michel (IVP)

WAIT: Thoughts and Practice in Waiting on God by Rebecca Brewster Stevenson (Light Messages Publishing)

July

Open Hands, Willing Heart: Discover the Joy of Saying Yes to God by Vivian Mabuni (WaterBrook)

Risk Resilience: How Empowering Young Women Can Change Everything by Jenny Rae Armstrong (Herald Press)

August

All Shall Be Well: Awakening to God’s Presence in His Messy, Abundant World by Catherine McNiel (NavPress)

Invited: The Power of Hospitality in an Age of Loneliness by Leslie Verner (Herald Press) [shameless plug 😉 ]

September

When You Love a Prodigal: 90 Days of Grace for the Wilderness by Judy Douglass (Bethany House)

October

Separated by the Border: A Birth Mother, a Foster Mother & a Migrant Child’s 3000-Mile Journey by Gena Thomas (IVP)

Stronger Than Death, how Annalena Tonelli Defied Terror and Tuberculosis in the Horn of Africa by Rachel Pieh Jones (Plough Publishing House)

Be the Bridge: Pursuing God’s Heart for Racial Reconciliation by Latasha Morrison (WaterBrook)

Miracles and Other Reasonable Things: A Story of Unlearning and Relearning God by Sarah Bessey (Howard Books)

Signs of Life: Resurrecting Hope Out of Ordinary Losses by Stephanie Lobdell (Herald Press)

November

Making Peace with Change: Navigating Life’s Messy Transitions with Honesty and Grace by Gina Butz (Discovery House)

Life-Giving Choices: 60 Days to What Matters Most by Lucinda Secrest McDowell (New Hope)


The Following Are Still Waiting for Their Lovely Covers:

A Prayer for Orion by Kate James (October)

Mythical Me: Finding Freedom from Constant Comparison, by Richella Parham (October/IVP)

Deconstructed Do-Gooder: A Memoir About Finding Mercy the Hard Way by Brittany Winn Lee (November/Wipf and Stock)


And a Few Children’s Books:

Gracefull: Growing a Heart that Cares for Our Neighbors by Dorena Williamson (Feb/B & H Kids)

The Backwards Easter Egg Hunt by Meadow Rue Merrill (March)

The Boy with Big, Big Feelings by Brittany Winn Lee (Beaming Books)

*This post will be updated periodically

Please share this post to spread the word on these fabulous new books!

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New books to read (by female authors) in 2019. #newbooks #2019books #christianauthors #creativenonfiction #nonfiction #bookstoread #bookrecommendations

**This post includes Amazon affiliate links

The IHOP Days of Motherhood (#threekids)

(I wrote this in February of 2017, but it still holds true.) 

The IHOP Days of Motherhood

The middle-aged woman at the checkout aisle across from me quickly looks away as I glance up. My five-month-old is strapped to my chest, sucking on the side of the baby wrap; the other two kids are now riding the one cent plastic horse ride next to the lotto ticket kiosk. I wonder what the woman is thinking as she watches me drop coins on the floor, lecture children and bag my own groceries with a baby strapped to my chest.

It could be, “What a precious mom—she’s doing such a great job.”

But I suspect it was, “Thank God that’s not MY life.”

These are the days when my husband fears he’ll come home from work and find I’ve abandoned them all. I’ll call him from an IHOP off the interstate somewhere in Nebraska and say,

“Oh, that motherhood job? I quit. I decided I can’t do it anymore.”

And so instead of running away forever, I’ve escaped for two hours. It’s seven degrees below zero today, but the sun is streaming through the window, spotlighting the stardust lazily floating in the air. For once, this coffee shop is nearly empty and I have the couch spot by the fireplace with the mosaic table all to myself. Men are talking loudly in the back room. They began their meeting with prayer and I hear church words punctuate their conversations like “Old Testament,” “Bible” and “Communion.” I don’t even mind, because—for once–the voices do not belong to anyone related to me.

These are the weeks when my nose is right up against the oil painting of my life and all I see is a blob of sticky paint. I can’t get enough distance to know that this week, this day, this moment of juggling a sick, crying infant while my other two children beg for more milk, more cheerios, more love, more attention, more, more, more is a mere dab on the canvas. A stroke of grey on blue.

Nap times, Monday through Friday, look like this: We finish lunch and my two-year-old hands me a board book about an acorn, while my son chooses The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I swaddle the baby and get him situated to nurse, guarding his head with my hand as the other two scramble onto the couch, all bruised elbows, knees and wet noses.

We read a picture book about a small acorn waiting on the ground as each animal approaches and asks that the acorn serve it in some way: scratch its back, provide shade, shelter or food, which it promises to do when it becomes a big, strong tree. The acorn begins to break apart, sending roots down and leaves up. Eventually, the acorn disappears entirely and a tree stretches out and up. The other animals run to make good on the promises made in it’s infancy.

In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Edmund is playing hide-and-seek and thinks he is following his sister into the wardrobe when his feet crunch on snow. He discovers a magical world in an ordinary closet. I slide the bookmark into the binding, easing off of the couch without disturbing the still-nursing baby. My older son protests, begging me to read more.

“Time to go potty,” I say.

I momentarily lay the baby on the guest bed and hoist my daughter into her crib, making sure she has her baby dolls, water and blankie. She immediately turns on her tummy, hugging her water cup to herself.

“Goodnight, Mom,” she says, pretending she’s a teenager instead of a two-year-old girl with pigtails.

I scoop up the baby and meet my son in his room, waiting for him to wriggle his feet under the sheet before bringing it to his chin. He turns and snuggles closer to me as I sing the usual three songs, pray and receive “two kisses on two cheeks,” all with a baby attached to my breast.

By the time I close the door, I feel the baby go limp and gently lay him down in his bassinet in our room. Pausing, I smile at the miracle of three children in three beds, quiet. Creeping down and pushing the button on the hot water kettle and throwing a tea bag in an oversized mug, I sit down at the computer. Just as the aroma of black tea infused with cardamom and cinnamon begins to seep into the room and the thoughts begin to flow, footsteps echo in the hall.

“Just need to use the potty,” my son announces. I hear soft cries coming from our room. Sighing, I get up from my chair to retrieve the baby.

***

Last Thursday I got everyone out of the house after much weeping and gnashing of teeth to go to Bible study, but found an empty, unplowed parking lot when I arrived. It had been cancelled. No way was I going back home.

Plan B was a coffee shop where my children made such a shrieking, toy-snatching scene while I was nursing the baby that an irritated man snarled at them, “This is a COFFEE SHOP.” As if that means anything to a two-year-old.

So Plan C was to brave the snowy roads and drive an hour to the children’s museum because even if I had to drive 20 miles an hour, they’d be STRAPPED IN–the only legal way to physically bind my children for an hour. The car was quiet the entire way, which I counted as a gift from God Himself. At the museum, I sat dully watching the children play, too exhausted to even pull out my phone. I enjoyed the hours of not having to say “No,” “Don’t” or “What were you thinking???”

The baby screamed the entire ride home and my daughter woke up in hysterics when we pulled off the interstate at our exit. I convinced my husband to meet us at a restaurant because I still couldn’t bear the thought of going home.

Friday I dragged all three children to the doctor’s office and let them play with the germy toys in the lobby. An hour and a half and 75 dollars later, the doctor confirmed my suspicion: all three children had colds and no, there was nothing he could do. The baby had a fever that night resulting in neither of us sleeping and my son threw up all night and morning—of course this all happened AFTER the doctor’s appointment.

I talked to my high school best friend on the phone, who is laps ahead of me in the motherhood race, with an 11, 13 and 15 year old. After venting about my disobedient, selfish, irrational, unkind children, she sent me a string of texts, which I read when I got up with the baby at 2 am.

She reminded me of the time her four-year-old daughter poured water on the head of a girl during the girl’s birthday party. Her daughter had also been responsible for breaking up the playgroup my best friend started because she was such a terror. Plus there was the time her teacher had informed my friend that her daughter was the worst student in class.

But then my friend detailed what her now-thirteen-year-old had done that day. She woke before everyone else, got dressed, made breakfast for her daddy, did homework and then helped her younger sister with her homework. She cleaned up the living room, then played the piano for the congregation at church that evening.

My friend ended her text with this: “My take is that your son is going to be the brightest, most successful in his class. And since daughters are amazing, your daughter is going to be your future bestie. And the baby, well, he is bound to turn out wonderful because … well … as my mom always said [my friend is the third born] … the third is a charm.”

Eyes burning with tears, I stood in the darkened kitchen, phone in one hand, sleeping baby in the other. Friends like this grab my arm and drag me back for the distance needed to give me a view of this life canvas I’m living. One day my children will provide food, shelter, comfort and shade for themselves and others. One day they will be strong, tall and be able to stand on their own.

But today, they are tiny and vulnerable. And the lifespan of an acorn is a stroke of the brush in the huge painting of their life and mine.

Today, though it is cold outside, the sun is shining in this coffeeshop and I have the gift of a morning to breathe. A sliver of space to remember what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. I step into the ordinary wardrobe and for just a short time, I remember the magic and feel the crunch of snow at my feet. I am gathering strength. I glance out the window at naked branches, then write:

Bare trees showcase blue sky.
Branches weighted with snow sigh
in joy of bearing their beautiful burden.

I am ready to go home, to do this. I am ready to be a mom again.

***

Thank you for meeting me here in this space. The theme for March is “Simplify,” so you can start here to read posts you may have missed. If you are a writer or just a person with words burning in your soul and are interested in guest posting, email me at scrapingraisins@ gmail (dot) com. I’m looking for personal stories on this theme in the 500-1000 word range. If you haven’t yet, be sure you sign up for my mid-month and monthly secret newsletter for the latest posts and even some news, discount codes and book giveaway information that only Scraping Raisins subscribers get!

Sign up for the Mid-month Digest and Secret Newsletter Here:

*Contains Amazon affiliate links

These are the days when my husband fears he’ll come home from work and find I’ve abandoned them all. I’ll call him from an IHOP off the interstate somewhere in Nebraska and say, “Oh, that motherhood job? I quit. I decided I can’t do it anymore.”

The Sacrament of Childbirth {for SheLoves}

I wrote this post for SheLoves Magazine. It’s probably the most personal thing I’ve ever written.

I was shocked by how similar childbirth was to watching my father-in-law die. There is the pacing, the patience, the impatience, the watching for signs of death—or life. The living room transforms into a tunnel where the outside world is fuzzy and out of focus and inside, all senses are heightened. As the time for birth—or death—nears, erratic breathing ushers a soul into another world. There is pain. There is relief. There is hope. There is life in death.

Death and birth are undeniably spiritual for the person who’s spent time in that sacred space. Something, Someone, is invisibly present in the room with you at the gate. I’ve stood at that gate—a portal to the other world—four times now. Once, as a soul went on to the next world, and three other times, as my body welcomed three souls to this world.

Childbirth is natural and supernatural, real and ephemeral, earthy and otherworldly, you are lost forever, and find yourself anew. Birthing is raw, primitive, immodest. You abandon propriety, trusting the process. An imprint of Eden, you are naked again—and unashamed. As a woman in labor, you follow a script written thousands of years ago that billions of women have followed. You are not the first, but that does not diminish, but rather enlarges the sacred space you are given permission to occupy.

Heaven heaves spirit breath beneath the thin veil of the natural world, sending reality floating up as you tenderly hold the edge of the sheet, gasping at what lies beneath.

You glimpse the divine, who weaves numinous tendrils of time, matter, rhythm and grace to draw this new being out of your body and into the world. You are not alone. The Creator is coaching, whispering, caressing your sweaty hair, kneading your tense shoulders, clothing you in the timeless mystery of mothers who have entered this transcendence…

continue reading at SheLoves Magazine

The Peril of Princesses & ‘Passion and Purity’

Disney’s 1991 version of Beauty and the Beast seduced me as an eighth grade girl. I yearned for adventure, and was desperate to fall in love (or at least have a boyfriend who wanted to hold my hand). As a nerd myself, it’s no wonder I picked the bookish princess as my favorite.

I grew up on a steady diet of princesses: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty (Aurora), Snow White, Rapunzel, Belle, Ariel, and Jasmine. Each film references their beauty, and every single girl falls in love. We didn’t just read or watch the sanitized Disney versions of these tales, either, but the Hans Christian Anderson versions like the one where the little mermaid hurls herself into the sea when she is rejected, choosing to become sea foam instead of living a meaningless life without her prince.

From an early age, I absorbed this message: for your life to have value or any degree of happiness, you must fall in love.

I can tell you the name of every boy I had a crush on beginning from the age of four. Age four. Apart from the one time I was a cat and the other time I was a clown, every other Halloween I was either a princess or a bride. My brother and I got married more times than I can count.

Falling in love became an obsession. I watched movies, studying how the girls attracted men. Thank God Google and Facebook didn’t exist at the time because I’m sure I would have spent hours googling how to talk to guys or stalking the boys I had crushes on.

For whatever reason, whether because I scared boys away by pretending I didn’t like them or because I came on too strong, the boys I liked never seemed to like me back. My journals from those years are full of me scribbling about my crushes—“I sat next to so-and-so in science lab today,” “So-and-so looked at me in the hallway on the way to algebra,” “I think so-and-so might ask me to the ninth grade dance.”

One Christian boy finally showed interest in me my sophomore year of high school, but then broke it off a few months in, saying his parents wouldn’t let him date. Devastated (I was so sure he was “the one”), I vowed never to let that happen again. Soon after, I read Passion and Purity.

Though I admire Elisabeth Elliot for her devotion to God, her courage in moving to South America to learn a new culture and share Christ with those who didn’t know Him, and her strength in spite of losing not one, but two husbands, that book really messed me up. I once heard her say on the radio that it is not necessary to be attracted to your husband. Love, romance and desire were the enemy of love for God. Men were to be “held at arm’s length.”

Joshua Harris, author of I Kissed Dating Goodbye, wrote the forward to the 2002 edition of Passion and Purity, mentioning how P and P had inspired him to write his book. At the end of the forward, he (mis)quotes C.S. Lewis: “The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.”

The message was clear: falling in love could put your soul in peril. Falling in love was dangerous.

From then on, I took Elisabeth Elliot’s words to heart. I kept men at arms-length, always suspicious they would derail my love for God and His grand plans for my life. Men were the enemy of loving God whole-heartedly.

Didn’t Paul say much the same in 1 Corinthians 7? “It is good for a man not to marry…but if they cannot control themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.” (v. 1, 9)

“An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord’s affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world—how she can please her husband.” (v. 34)

Given the choice, I picked undivided devotion to Jesus over pathetically falling for a man. The Hollywood version of “Happily Ever After” was a myth and a mirage. My true prince was Jesus. And He was enough.

Until I met Adam. You can read our love story here, but when I fell in love, I finally understood the metaphor of “falling.”

I stopped avoiding the dangerous plunge into love and decided to experience the thrill of the free fall. I discovered that just because love is not safe doesn’t mean God doesn’t want us to jump in and enjoy it.

In fact, when exactly does the Bible advise us to avoid danger, to stay safe or to be comfortable?

Instead of completing me or stealing my adoration for Jesus, my husband strides beside me, urging me on the way. Rather than detract from my love for God, he enhances it. Instead of filling a void in my soul, our lights burn brighter when held together in the dark.

Even so, my experience worshipping Falling in Love makes me wary of princesses as I think about raising my daughter.

Do I want her to feel beautiful, special, and feminine? Yes. Do I want her to equate beauty with self-worth? No.

Do I want her to be adored, admired, cherished, and wanted? Of course. Do I want her to derive her self-worth and life purpose from a man, searching for a man, like in the movie Jerry Maguire, to “complete her”? No way.

In spite of my hesitation to allow my daughter to play with princesses, I’m learning they, like all things in life, should be approached thoughtfully, and with moderation. Princesses are not banned from my home, but they are not encouraged, either. I censor movies where the princess falls in love, instead choosing movies like Moana, where the girl has a male friendship without having to fall in love with him.

I also want to avoid being duped by the media and marketers targeting my 3 year old girl. The term “Disney Princess” didn’t even exist until the year 2000. According to Cinderella Ate My Daughter author Peggy Orenstein, executive Andy Mooney stumbled on the princess idea when he checked out a “Disney on Ice” show and noticed all the girls were wearing homemade princess costumes. He wondered “how such a massive branding opportunity had been overlooked” (p. 13). Within a year of releasing the first Princess items, sales soared to $300 million.

Shows/dolls/movies-turned-books have crept quietly into our home, like commercials in book form. So we read them, then they disappear, to be replaced with stories that won’t cause my child to want more toys or encourage her to watch certain movies and shows.

I don’t hate princesses, I just don’t want Disney to brainwash my daughter into thinking she must be slim, beautiful or fall in love to have a meaningful life. I don’t want her to worship Falling in Love, but I don’t want her to fear it, either. Instead, I hope she will know she is special, adored and valuable because she is made in the image of God. And if she does fall in love one day, I pray Jesus will still be the protagonist in her happily-ever-after, just as He was when she was a little girl, a teen and a single woman.

***

Join me this month as we explore the theme of raising strong girls. I have way too many ideas and not enough time, but my goal is to post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays this month. Shoot me an email at scrapingraisins (dot) gmail (dot) com if you’d like to guest post on this topic.

As it’s sex trafficking awareness month, I’ll also be sharing some resources on that topic. Sign up for my mid-month digest and end-of-month secret newsletter to stay updated on all the posts as well as to get links to interesting books, podcasts, recipes and articles I’ve come across this month.

Sign up for my Mid-month Digest and Secret Newsletter HERE:

**This post contains Amazon affiliate links

The Peril of Princesses & ‘Passion and Purity’--Should we encourage our girls to play princesses?

What Women Want

Today is my 39th birthday, the last year before I turn 40. I believe this calls for a bit of gratuitous self-reflection, don’t you? As I think about my daughter, I realize what I want for her is what I want for myself–and perhaps what we want universally as women.

***

In the work place, home, in courts, classrooms and cathedrals, women want to be seen, heard, respected, and taken seriously. In a noisy crowd, we want our voices to count.

We want “kindred spirit” friends and life partners who adore us. We want to be loved, admired, honored, and cherished. We long to know and be known. We want to find a tribe where we belong.

We want to belly laugh until tears run down the creases on the sides of our eyes and not take ourselves or the world so seriously all the time.

We want to do meaningful work—not just as mothers and wives, but also as we live out our personal callings to paint, write, sculpt, lead, heal, teach, preach, crunch numbers, and transform dull spaces into decorative places that cultivate creativity. We want to know our lives made a difference in the world-that some seed we planted while we were alive will flourish long after we are gone.

We want to be a voice for the voiceless and a champion for the oppressed.

We want to make peace with our bodies and stand naked in front of the mirror without self-loathing, shame or fear. We want to eat when we are hungry and stop eating when we are full. We want to recognize that wrinkles, bulges and stretch marks are beautiful signs of a life well-lived.

We want to be known for who we are and not for what we look like, what we do, or what we don’t do. We want to be enough.

We want balance. We want to be healthy. We want to be strong—physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. We want to be confident.

We want courage to try new things, meet new people and travel to new lands. And yet we want contentment with where we are, who we’re with, and what we’re doing, too.

We want to relax every once in a while. We want to snuggle on the couch, walk in the woods, or sleep in. We want to lose ourselves in music and dancing. We want to be so engrossed in conversation that we forget task and time.

We want to look back on our lives without regret, proud of who we’ve become and satisfied with where we are.

We want soul rest. We long for deep peace that comes in knowing we belong to God and that nothing can rip us from his hand.

We want to taste heaven on earth, catch glimpses of Jesus in our neighbors, and notice evidence of God in creation.

We want to be women who dance without shame, question without fear, and speak without being muted.

We want to be women who love fiercely and freely, because we are fiercely and freely loved.

***

Join me this month as we explore the theme of raising strong girls. I have way too many ideas and not enough time, but my goal is to post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays this month. Shoot me an email at scrapingraisins (dot) gmail (dot) com if you’d like to guest post on this topic.

As it’s sex trafficking awareness month, I’ll also be sharing some resources on that topic. Sign up for my mid-month digest and end-of-month secret newsletter to stay updated on all the posts as well as to get links to interesting books, podcasts, recipes and articles I’ve come across this month.

What do women want?

Scraping Raisins Blog Themes

When Sex Trafficking Is Right Under Our Nose {An Interview}

Sex trafficking awareness. Interview with Daniel Lemke. Red flags, pimps, porn and what we can do about it.

Daniel Lemke biked 12,608 miles in 15 months to raise awareness about human trafficking. I interviewed him in Colorado in September of 2016, just a couple months after he completed his tour around the perimeter of the United States.

As January 11th is National Human Trafficking Awareness Day and Daniel recently published a book about his experience, called Kissing Lions, I wanted to share this interview with you. I’ll be sharing additional resources this month as well. Human trafficking is modern day slavery, and is happening right under our noses.

Me: What are some things you have learned about sex trafficking over the past 15 months?

Daniel: Most victims are runaways or from the foster care system. In fact, 1 out of 3 runaways will be trafficked. [According to heatwatch.org, two in every three kids will be approached by an exploiter within 48 hours of running away from home.]

This is some of the slang and vocabulary associated with sex trafficking I learned:

Survivors of sex trafficking are called “sparrow.”

Victims are a “commodity,” “item,” “product,” or “the bottom bitch.” From the outside we see them as a prostitute, stripper, and/or pornstar.

A pimp (male) or madam (female) are the “care providers,” “boyfriend,” “captor,” or “sugar daddy.”

The second in command, who will recruit and basically do anything for the pimp, is called “the Bottom Bitch.”

A gentlemen or “good guy pimp” is called a “Romeo Pimp.”

An aggressive or abusive pimp (like in the movie Taken) is called a “Gorilla pimp.”

A John is the client.

Me: What are some red flags to look for?

Daniel: I’ll give you an example. I had an experience during an open mic night at a café in western Colorado. The barrista knew nothing about the menu and the woman in charge, the “boss lady,” was constantly looking over her shoulder and had shifty eyes when a man would come in.

At one point, a man in a suit entered, acting like he owned the place. Pulling the boss lady aside, he kissed her and held her arm. I overheard him call the women “baby girl,” and his demeanor shifted as he chatted with the men around the room. The waitresses were flirty with the male customers, and were very good at flirting.

So all these signs made me suspicious: not knowing the menu, the manager being pulled aside, the charming gentleman addressing all the men, and the flirty women.

Nail salons and massage parlors are also often covers for sex trafficking. Usually if it has the word “lily,” it can be a code word.

Me: How does the customer find the place?

Daniel: Numbers on bathroom stalls and ads in newspapers can all be codes. Craigslist or backpages.com have entire sections dedicated to adult services.

Me: What are some signs that a child is being trafficked?

Daniel: Pay attention to who they are with and where they are they looking. Are they cowering? You should look for markings, bruising, tattoos behind the ear, on the chest, on other places you can’t see, or on the lip. They often won’t have any form of ID and will often be absent from school.

In my travels, I often used Couch Surfing to find places to stay. I once stayed with a pimp. I was able to ask him lots of questions. He told me the youngest kid he found was 16. He often found his victims by going to a mall or fair. He would walk up to a girl and compliment her and if she was confident, he didn’t even bother.

But if she was self-deprecating or seemed insecure, he would play into her emotions. He knew how to manipulate her so she would think he loved her. In fact, most victims usually refer to the pimp as their “boyfriend.”

Me: How did you know he was a pimp?

Daniel: As I entered his house, God immediately prompted me to get to the heart of things and be different. I’ve learned that if you don’t get to the heart of things within the first 30 minutes of meeting someone, you won’t.

“What is it that you do?” I asked him.

“I am an urge provider,” he said, kind of joking. “ I work in the exotic film business.”

I knew I couldn’t change his opinion, but needed to love him and show him Christ. He was extremely charming and even bought me an expensive steak dinner, and took me around town.

I learned a pimp makes an average of 200,000-400,000 dollars a year.
This guy would charge between $50 and $100 a girl per time for three to eight times a day. Most pimps will have multiple girls, or boys. That income is all untaxed.

It’s really hard to convict a pimp. The police needs hard evidence and the pimp knows how to avoid getting caught.

Me: What’s the role of pornography in sex trafficking?

Daniel: Pornography increases the demand for sex trafficking. Pimps sometimes have women do that first, then hold it over their heads.

I actually want to reach pimps. I want to convert pimps to legitimate business men and change their mentality. I want to get men on board in reaching them. I want to demolish the demand because pornography can lead to sex trafficking.

Me: How is this problem being addressed in the church and other communities?

Daniel: Not enough. I had a hard time getting churches to host me in my travels. Men’s groups need to talk more about pornography because there’s not much accountability. The pastors need to talk about what healthy love and sex is because otherwise our kids are getting it from the media. Also, many pastors don’t even address the men directly. Men like to fix things, so when they don’t see a way to fix it, they don’t even try. Of the organizations fighting sex trafficking I met with, probably 75% were headed up by women.

Me: What is the best way to see sex trafficking decrease in the U.S.?

Daniel: I fully believe that the only way to end sex trafficking is to have a firm and strong family dynamic. I think it needs to start with the man. Daughters need a strong father or she’ll go seek one out. Boys need to understand how to be a gentleman and a protector rather than a predator.

Me: How can the average person help?

Daniel: First is prayer. Second, people can help through finances and raising awareness. Restore One in North Carolina is one of the few organizations helping male victims of sex trafficking.

You need to talk and do. You could set up an awareness night at church and show a movie. One good one is a documentary called Nefarious: Merchant of Souls. There’s also a very accurate movie based on a true story called Eden. Hot Girls Wanted is a rough documentary that’s pretty poor quality about the porn industry, but it gets the idea across.

You can talk to legislators. Senators and house reps are actually really easy to get ahold of and then they’ll set you up with others. They need to figure out what laws are working and which ones aren’t. It’s different in every state.
You can go into your local police force and ask what you can help them with or partner with a local organization that is fighting sex trafficking.

Victims and pimps need counseling, a safe environment and reintegration into society.

William Wilberforce, an abolitionist, once said, “You may choose to look the other way, but you can never say again that you did not know.”

***

Resources Daniel Mentioned:

Nefarious: Merchant of Souls (documentary on the sex trafficking industry)
Eden (available with Amazon Prime)
Hot Girls Wanted (documentary about pornography)

You can buy Daniel’s book about this experience, called Kissing Lions , (in paperback, but also on Amazon kindle for just $4.99!) Listen to him talk about it on Youtube here.

***

Check back for more posts about sex trafficking awareness and raising strong girls during the month of January.

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(This post was edited at 1:14 pm on 1/10/18)

Sex trafficking awareness. Interview with Daniel Lemke about pimps, porn and the sex trafficking industry.

How We Raise Strong Girls

Do you want to raise a strong daughter? Here is a prayer for moms of daughters.

I want to raise a strong daughter. Of course, the word “strong” means different things to different people. Here’s what it means to me.

I’ll start with my daughter and the strength I already see in her.

She bolted ahead of us on the trail yesterday and picked up a white, round stone, her pigtails capturing flecks of the falling sun as she hoisted the rock into the river. At three years old, my daughter knows her own mind. She feels no shame and would gladly spend her life as a nudist if we let her.

She exudes confidence, curiosity, playfulness, humor, and bravery.

She stretched out her tiny hand at the museum last week and held a blond tarantula, earning a green sticker that said, “I held Rosie.”

Moving over to the next museum worker, she stroked the shiny, ridged back of a two-inch cockroach. Chills ran down my spine. I abhor cockroaches. It took everything in me not to shout and yank her hand away. Calm, and not realizing she just did something most adults wouldn’t be willing to do, she touched two of the most feared creatures without a thought.

I dread the day my daughter dresses in the clothes of shame, fear and self-doubt so many of us wear each day.  When she’s embarrassed to be naked, aware of what others think of her and terrified to try new things.

“Are they yucky?” she asked me, pointing at a terrarium of black scorpions.

“Do you think they’re yucky?” I asked.

She looks to me to define the yucky things in life for her. When you’re three, people, places and things can be easily categorized as “yucky” and “not yucky,” as “good” and “bad.” There are good guys and bad guys and very little in between. But just because I dislike certain bugs, foods or activities, I want to be careful not to influence my daughter to have the same likes and dislikes as me. I want her to be herself, not just a clone of her mother.

We moms are our daughter’s first teachers. A good teacher provides the means for students to learn at their own rate, in their own way and through their own experiences.

We moms are the curators of experiences for our daughters, gathering artifacts and inviting our girls to touch, taste, see, hear, and search for glimpses of God in the museum of life.

As I perch at the beginning of this journey as a mom to a little girl, what does it mean to raise her to become a strong woman? What wishes morph into prayers as I watch her toss stones into rivers and cradle deadly spiders?

Perhaps they’re the same prayers you have for your daughter?

To me, each of these prayers is a plea to see strength birthed in her:

I pray she knows she’s adored by God and by her parents.

I pray she is radiant, full of light and life.

I pray she weeps with compassion, bends to the ground in humility and allows others to march first in her life parade at times, though she is strong enough to lead on her own.

I pray she asks questions, listens to answers, bucks social norms, embraces a holy curiosity and has reverence for diverse people, rugged nature and God-sightings in the ordinary.

I pray she knows her gifts and how to use them.

I pray she tastes, sees, touches and hears heaven on Earth.

I pray she learns early on how to say “no,” but has the courage to say “yes” when the time is right.

I pray she falls in love with Jesus. The real-deal Love, not just the cultural Christian variety.

I pray she intuits a need and meets it if she can.

I pray she laughs often and chooses humor over negativity and critical words.

I pray she holds few regrets in a long life.

I pray her life experiences–the suffering, celebrating, successes and failures–cultivate patience, peace, and wisdom.

I pray she is not afraid to love wildly and be wildly loved.

Sure, I hope she enjoys what I like–reading, sleeping to the sound of cicadas in summer evenings, dramatic thunderstorms, running her hand from mane to rump on a horse, trying exotic foods, and collecting fascinating friends, but I also need to give her space to try on different personalities to find out who she is meant to be apart from me.

To have a strong daughter, I need to be strong enough to keep quiet at times and let her live into that woman. My prayers spoken over her as she sleeps with her small arm tossed over her stuffed dog culminate in a simple sentence–that she knows who she is and who she’s not.

This is what I mean when I say I want to raise a strong daughter.

What we want for our daughters is ultimately what we want for ourselves.

To be cherished.

To be respected.

To be safe.

To make a difference.

To be strong.

***

What about you? What is your prayer for your daughter? Who do you hope she will become? What is your role in her journey? 

***

Join me this month as we explore this theme of raising strong girls. I have way too many ideas and not enough time, but my goal is to post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays this month. Shoot me an email at scrapingraisins (dot) gmail (dot) com if you’d like to guest post on this topic.

As it’s sex trafficking awareness month, I’ll also be sharing some resources on that topic. Sign up for my mid-month digest and end-of-month secret newsletter to stay updated on all the posts as well as to get links to interesting books, podcasts, recipes and articles I’ve come across this month.

Related posts:

Dear Daughter

What I Want for My Children

Day 10: Friendship: The Need to Hear “Me, Too” (Part 2) {31 Days of #WOKE}

I used to bond with other women by talking about men. Many a friendship was forged over confessing a crush or finding we despised the same type of man. But the deepest friendships came out of the times when I dared to remove my mask and admit my greatest fears: that I was unattractive, too independent or ultimately unlovable. It was then that I could hear the words upon which every friendship must be built, “Me, too.”

In the places I’ve lived and cultures I’ve worked among (including my own), I’ve discovered that connection happens at the level of our deepest fears and greatest longings.

When we connect at the  point of our tender wounds–like two little girls willingly piercing their palms and co-mingling their blood in a pact of friendship–we can form friendships even in the most unlikely places.

***

The churches in my area have a fantastic program for the homeless. A large church and a smaller church partner together to house and feed homeless families for a two week period four times a year. Last night was the first time I volunteered to help others from my church cook a meal for these families. The plan was to eat together afterward. Stirring the German Potato Salad beforehand, I wondered what we would talk about.

What if I say the wrong thing? Will we find anything in common?

Scanning the room, I sat down next to a twenty-something Hispanic woman and her children. “How old are your children?” I asked as we picked up our forks to begin eating. “One and two, she said … eleven months apart.”

Exhaling and thinking of my six month old at home, not even fathoming being pregnant right now, I blurted out, “Did you cry when you found out?”

She laughed, “OOOH, yes.”

In an instant, over the horror of having a two month old and finding you are pregnant, we clicked.

She is a single mom, while I have a husband at home to help with our three children. She transports her kids around by bicycle and trailer while I drive a minivan. She is homeless, while just yesterday my husband and I looked at a four bedroom home as we continued our search for a home to buy.

And yet I understood her fierce love for her children. I inherently knew the determination she has to protect them. I respected her for doing what it takes to feed and clothe them. In that moment, we connected not because I know what it is like to be homeless, but because I know what it is like to be a mother.

***

A few years ago, when I was eight months pregnant with my first child, our church in Chicago did an all day outreach offering various social services on site at church for disadvantaged people in the neighborhood. One of the African American women I helped walk around to the different rooms had recently had a baby. I was surprised to find she had given birth in the same hospital I planned to go to and she mentioned she didn’t have an epidural. “That’s what I’m hoping to do, too.” I said. “So how was it?” I asked.

“It hurt like hell,” she laughed, “but you can do it.” I asked her more questions as I helped her and her mother gather their bags for the bus. I sent them on their way and reflected on that conversation. Though I was technically on the helping end and she was on the receiving end, she was the one who had gifted me.

But in that interaction, I also confronted an inner demon—something I’m ashamed to even admit in a public space. I found that part of me was shocked that deep down we were the same. Same hospital, same hope for a natural birth, same anxieties and fears about childbirth and same dreams for our future children. This feeling of surprise served as evidence of a latent belief that we weren’t the same. It cast light on prejudice crouching in the dark corner of my subconscious. And I want to drag that prejudice into the open where it can shrivel and die.

***

Every new friendship is a risk. This is especially true when we don’t know the rules of relationship with that particular culture or socioeconomic group. But when we offer up our insecurities as a gift and step out onto the universal bridge of fear, pain or longing that is at the essence of being human, we earn just enough trust to begin a friendship.

Friendship happens when we are vulnerable, shed culture’s heavy cloak and stand at the level of our bare humanity.

We are hope, anxiety, desire, talent, fear and doubt. We are blood, flesh, hair, bones, muscles, organs and sinews. We are soul, gender, spirit and mind.

As daughters of God, we are image-bearers, torch carriers, hope seekers and justice lovers. We are human, but more than that, we are children. We are cherished by the same Daddy who knit us together in our mother’s womb. Though we are different, the same blood shoots through our veins.

The challenge to myself and to you as I think about the relationships I want to have with those of different races, social classes, languages, educational levels, ages, political beliefs and cultures is this:

Stop being guarded. Put yourself in the position to be hurt, misunderstood or snubbed. Admit your weakness, fear, pain, doubt and anxiety to another.

Vulnerability is the midwife of trust.

Give away love like it was never yours to keep. And start believing that we are more alike than we are different. There are only gains in adding another gem to your friend collection.

 

New to the Series? Start HERE (though you can jump in at any point!).

A 31 Day Series Exploring Whiteness and Racial Perspectives

During the month of March, 2017, I will be sharing a series called 31 Days of #Woke. I’ll be doing some personal excavating of views of race I’ve developed through being in schools that were under court order to be integrated, teaching in an all black school as well as in diverse classrooms in Chicago and my experiences of whiteness living in Uganda and China. I’ll also have some people of color share their views and experiences of race in the United States (I still have some open spots, so contact me if you are a person of color who wants to share). So check back and join in the conversation. You are welcome in this space.

In the places I’ve lived and cultures I’ve worked among (including my own), I’ve discovered that connection happens at the level of our deepest fears and greatest longings.

 

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