Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

leadership

3 words that would guarantee my vote

We were watching the first NASCAR race of the season, and when it ended, we switched over to the latest GOP debate, our first time tuning in to any debate in this wild election season.

Until then I’d read articles and status updates, watched parodies, and heard about the ridiculous behaviors of the candidates and their claims. Seeing it first-hand was something else. The shouting, the interrupting, the slinging of insults. Debates are not exactly civil forms of discourse.

I should disclose here that I have no freaking clue who I am voting for, nor do I consider myself a Republican or Democrat. So, the choices are pretty much wide open for me, though I can say with near-certainty that I will not vote for Donald Trump.

I might reconsider, though, if he said three little words.

Michael Browning via Unsplash

Michael Browning via Unsplash

***

The election process is built on promises. Plans for change. Reform. Dreams of better than what we have now. No matter who you align with, your candidate has ideas for how he or she would do things if elected.

And all of them are lying to some extent, whether they intend to or not.

I’ve never run for any kind of office, so maybe the following illustrations are weak, but I have made promises to myself that I haven’t kept.

Promises like, “Our marriage will be different.” Marriage is hard work. Spouses fight. Divorce is a real possibility. All the things people told me before I was married, I dismissed because I thought I knew better. I imagined something different but I didn’t have all the information. I had no idea what it would be like to join my life with someone else’s and to work through the rough patches.

Promises like, “I won’t be that kind of parent.” Isn’t it amazing how much we know about parenting before we have kids? The truth is, it doesn’t matter what kind of parent I think I’m going to be because each child is unique. I can’t possibly predict my parenting skills before I meet the objects of those skills.

I don’t have any data to back up this claim, but human nature being what it is makes me think that every president has broken a promise of some kind. What was pledged during a campaign was altered once in office.

It’s foolish, really, to expect a person to keep all the promises they make about the next four years because none of us really knows what the future holds. Did George W. Bush expect to be president in a post-9/11 world that brought terrorism to our country and security changes none of us could have imagined ever needing?

Could John F. Kennedy have predicted his death before his term had ended? Did Lincoln anticipate a brutal civil war? Did Hoover know he’d lead the country during a depression? Were FDR’s promises based on the country’s involvement in a world war?

These are all examples of disaster and tragedy, sure, but aren’t those the things that sidetrack our dreams? That challenge our promises?

***

So, what are the words I want to hear from a candidate?

“I don’t know.”

Those three words say so much. They leave room for learning, for teamwork. They are a humble admission of weakness. (My husband says they also would be political suicide.)

Frankly, I’m tired of know-it-alls. Tired of overpromising and underdelivering. I’m suspicious of big plans and lofty dreams. Maybe that means I’m a cynic or a pessimist. Or a realist. I want to believe that the next president will do good, but I’m also aware that he or she is just a human, like me, with just a few more qualifications for national leadership.

I want to hear why a person is qualified for the job, what drives them to campaign for a position that will undoubtedly age them and wear on their families.

And it’s not that I don’t want to hear anything about a candidate’s dreams for the nation; it’s just that I don’t want them to sound like guarantees. I’m okay with a leader who says, “I’m not sure what I’d do in that situation, but I know whose advice I would ask, what factors I might consider.”

Maybe I’m the one dreaming now. I get that there’s a playbook to follow in this game, and no political strategist would advise a candidate to say these words.

But I know if I heard them, I’d be much more likely to vote for that candidate. They would at least have my attention for something other than circus antics.

***

I know how hard it is for me to say, “I don’t know” in my own life. I want to have answers. I don’t want to admit there are things I don’t know.

So, maybe the best I can hope for is to start with myself. To admit my inadequacies, my areas of weakness, the things I don’t know.

And maybe that will never change a nation, but it will change me.

Good thing I’m never planning to run for president.

Why I no longer fear the word 'feminist'

Today, I’m linking up with blogger Sarah Bessey, author of the newly released book, Jesus Feminist. You can read my review of it here. And read others’ reflections on what it means to be a Jesus feminist here.

I was vaguely aware of the feminist movement in high school and college but watched from a distance. I wasn’t sure of myself as a human being, much less a woman, so it didn’t seem to matter to me.

Then I found Jesus. Or maybe He found me. I’m still not quite sure which it was. And I learned that men and women had clearly defined roles in the church. And leading wasn’t one of them for women.

I was mostly content with this arrangement, though something in my soul still rebelled when I was told I need a man’s protection and/or leadership. As a single woman, living on her own, I wasn’t quite sure how to accomplish this nor was I sure I agreed. But I was young and an even younger Christian.

Still, I wrestled when I saw a woman I love dearly, who is clearly called to lead, be refused that leadership time and again. But it’s what the Bible says, right? So, how could it be wrong?

When I finally met the man I would marry, that biblical hot-button word “submission” never really seemed like an issue. He didn’t demand I submit to him. I didn’t silence my opinions, though I probably deferred to him more than I wanted to. Because that’s what a biblical wife does, right?

My husband started seminary, and for the first time, I was presented with a different way of looking at women in leadership. My husband was in classes with women. Women who are called to be pastors. Who faithfully serve congregations. Who preach. And care. And shepherd. And lead.

The world as I knew it was shifting, and I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, I’d gotten wrong.

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Then, I birthed a daughter. A feisty red-head who showed her independence from birth. (She arrived five weeks early because well, the world was just too interesting to miss.) As she’s grown, we’ve seen the potential in her. She was “preaching” sermons not long after she could talk because that’s the sort of make-believe play that happens when your husband is seminary. Even after her brother was born, and now when they “play church,” they are both pastors. Both teachers. Because, why not?

And I began to realize that I couldn’t deny her gifts, whatever they were, if I wanted her to do what she was meant to do in God’s kingdom.

I believe she has a purpose. A God-given one that has nothing to do with what I want for. It might not be world-changing, at least not on the grand scale. But it will matter. And I want her to know that she is not limited just because she is a girl who will be a woman.

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So, I am a Jesus feminist, for her.

But also for me.

A few years ago I took a spiritual gifts inventory, something I hadn’t done in a while. And a new gift emerged. One I’d never expected nor ever seen before.

Shepherding.

I thought it was a mistake because that’s an awfully pastoral sounding gift. I figured it was because my husband was in seminary and I’d been gleaning the leftovers from his studies.

But, why not?

As we’ve navigated the post-seminary waters, we’re discovering together, he and I, that we are called to ministry together. He has the seminary degree, but we are partners. And there’s nothing wrong with that. With men and women working together to share the good news, to tell of the kingdom work of redemption.

I am a Jesus feminist because when I read the Gospels, I can’t help but see the way Jesus values women. I’ve heard that Jesus is the most sexist man who ever lived, but it’s simply not true. For the culture in which He lived, He was a liberator of women.

I am a Jesus feminist because I see women changing the world. When they band together to end a civil war in Liberia, or apply for loans to start a business in an African village to feed their families and bring hope to their community, or use their time, resources and influence to ensure women in Cambodia have a better life.

I am a Jesus feminist because I love my husband and want to share his burdens. I love my brothers in the faith and want to encourage them in their callings. I love my sisters in the faith and want them to see their place in the kingdom.

I am a Jesus feminist because I believe women are worth it. And even though the declaration feels a bit daring and controversial, I’m no longer afraid to be called a feminist.

In the end, it’s not about being better than men. It’s about living out my calling and loving well.

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So, what about you? I’d love to hear your thoughts.