For What It's Worth

The Emasculation of Men

2009-07-08T11:23:00.002-04:00

I just read this really nauseating piece of writing My First Abortion Party.

This is my response:

The other sadness here is the emasculation of men in the abortion debate. Because abortion is seen as a woman's issue, and only women have a say in what happens with their bodies, men are left by the sidelines wondering "Hey, what about me? I was there too, remember?". Which is its own curious reaction. If it was just sex that didn't really mean anything, and the result is a bunch of cells that don't really mean anything, then why are men concerned or even care at all what happens? It is because in their heart of hearts they KNOW there is a baby there, and that baby is their own flesh and blood. And any good and responsible man has an aching urge to protect their child, regardless of the circumstances of conception. But women, in their quest for freedom (from what, I'm still trying to understand), push the men away, removing their kinship to the "clump of cells", telling them they don't matter (when they did obviously, at least for the time it took to conceive), and that what they think, feel, desire is irrelevant.

And men are letting it happen.

Why more men don't speak up about abortion is beyond me. I'm not talking about those on the outside looking in, I'm talking about the men hurt by abortion. Those men who are brushed to the side of the road, and chucked in the bin to be seen as useless as the "clump of cells" sucked out on the abortionist's table. Why is it that more men are not speaking out? I can almost understand why some women would not/could not, due to the emotional pain and sheer embarrassment and shame of killing their child. But the men who are pushed aside and hurt just as deeply, sometimes even more so because they are left so powerless by the women who tell them they don't matter outside the bedroom - these men need to tell the world their side of the story.

So the result of this emasculation of men through abortion is generations of men who are no longer seen as protectors. No longer thought of as strong and dependable. Men who are only useful as needed, and have no redeeming value outside of providing a paycheck and a warm bed. We see this daily in the caricature of men in sitcoms and advertisements, movies and billboards. Men are now the butt of jokes, women are the strong and intelligent, men are weak and stupid.

And there are those who actually scratch their heads and wonder why we have exploding divorce, spouse abuse, child abuse, and runaway men who don't care for their children. These men were raised in a society to believe they are useless - and so they live up to that ideal. And this is even more prevalent among African American men - see the connection between higher abortion rates in that community? An ah-ha moment to be sure.

So - how do we break this cycle? The first reaction is to say get rid of abortion. But that just does not seem to be happening fast enough. I mean, in the mean time. What can we do to bring our men back to being men and not just pushed around sissies?

They need to speak out - I can't do it for them. No one can do it for them. The men who are pushed to the fringes of the party, kicked to the curb, and told to shut up and go away while their children are murdered (and told to pay for the process), need to SPEAK UP. They need to tell these women that they will NOT be dismissed and will not sit idly by while their babies are sucked out through tubes, they will NOT be made the patsy of disgusting "sperm donor" jokes.

Because if the men can't stand up for themselves - no one else can, or will.

If you know a man who is the victim of abortion, please ask him to speak out and help to put an end to this madness.

Ages and ages past - it's a new world now.

2009-05-15T14:59:00.001-04:00

It's been a very long time since I've posted to this blog. We live in a very different world now. How life has changed in just a few short years. We now have a president who is tearing apart the very fabric of this country, while those who love and adore him trample on all that is good and holy. Perhaps the topic of further posts.

In the mean time, I've found that love of my life, the man who is the twin of my soul. The thought of him makes me smile even as I write this. :-) He makes me crazy insane at times, but love him still I do and would marry him again tomorrow if given the chance. Ahhh - the beauty and grace of the sacrament, I never knew or imagined it could be so good.

Not much to say just starting out again here after so long. But I hope to write a bit more frequently now. I used to keep written journals, but I find that I just don't have the time to put pen to paper these days.

God bless us all.

For My Simon

2005-04-21T21:07:00.000-04:00

08/31/2004

Come out, my Knight
And be with me
And shed your heavy load
Release the armor of the years
Give me your heart to hold

Cast off your shield
And come to me
Be safe within my arms
Give Shield his retirement
Let me hold back love's harms

Lay down that sword
Be one with me
We'll not need it where we go
Love's gentle kiss, its soft embrace
Will guard us from all blows

My Knight! My Dream!
Share life with me!
Lie down on velvet cloak and take my hand
With raven's hair and eyes of night
Not Knight, Not Wolf - - but Man

Reflections on the Eucharist...from a message board post

2005-04-20T19:46:00.000-04:00

08/26/2004

Last night, while saying my evening prayers, this discussion was on my mind. I nearly went down stairs to post this, but decided to sleep on it and post this morning.

We have all agreed and established that our God loves us. He loves us so much that he sent us His son. What did we do? We nailed Him to a cross. He could have stopped it, he didn’t. He chose to die for our sins.

This Son, who loves us so very much, in spite of what we did to Him, left us with something. He did not leave us with only our faith, or a church, or something to believe in. He left us HIMSELF! In the Holy Sacrifice of the mass, Christ comes to us again. Not as a symbol of what he once was, not as a reminder of a meal a long time ago. Christ gives Himself to us, in a most intimate and personal way. I don’t mean to be vulgar in any sense with this, but what is more intimate, and personal than taking another to your lips? We are a physical people, and Christ knows this from His own experience. He knows we need more than just a saltine cracker, we need Him! And what a wonderful and amazing gift this is to us! To receive Christ in the Eucharist is for me an amazing and indescribable experience. Because I know He is there.

Christ performed miracles, they are noted throughout the Bible. He raised Lazarus from the dead. He healed wounds, blindness, etc. These are never disputed. He raised Himself from the dead! By Christians, this is not disputed. So if He can do these things, why can’t He come to us – Body/Blood/Soul/Divinity – in the sacred sacrifice of the mass? Why is it so easy to accept everything else He did, but not his one thing? Is it because of interpretation of Scripture? He said – “this is my body” – “whoever eats my body and drinks my blood” – why are these words not as clear as others spoken by Him in the Bible? Is it because they are just too wild to believe, that a Man would say such outlandish things?! Surely He did not mean – really eat him? Or did He? I believe He did.

Now granted, I’m Catholic. But I’m not this way because it’s what I was told to believe. I chose this because it just makes so much sense to me. There is much I can’t articulate or explain, but I know in my heart to be true. I guess that’s why we call it faith.

Ok – that’s off my chest. I feel better now. I don’t expect you to agree, I just hope to shed some additional light on why I feel as strongly as I do and how I come to my personal understanding of this miracle of faith.

A good time to die

2005-04-20T19:21:00.000-04:00

Is there ever a “good” time to die? There has been some discussion regarding the timing of the death of John Paul II, and how mourning has drawn us away from the joy of Eastertide. But I think his death is well timed actually, if viewed from the right perspective. I believe God called him home this first week of Easter for a very specific purpose: To show us, again, the gift of the Resurrection.

Last night my Church held a special Mass for the Pope. As I approached the Church, from almost a mile away, I could see the bunting – massive slices of it – flapping in the warm spring breeze down the sides of the Resurrection Tower of the building. It took my breath away. Inside, I found more bunting. But inside and out, there remained the promise of Easter. Peeking out from behind the black, where wider swaths of gold and white. Waiting for the day of a new pope – giving us hope and promise that soon the black will be removed and the white and gold of a new beginning will be revealed to us.

The Church was filled with white Easter lilies, blooming just as brightly and splendidly as they were last week, reaching up to the blackness that drapes the enormous expanse of the inner vaulted space of the sanctuary. Reaching for the white and gold, hiding behind the black. Reaching, as we all are, in hope and expectancy of what is to come.

Isn’t this what Easter is all about?

To Adam's Kin

2005-04-20T19:08:00.000-04:00

07/30/2004

Goddesses and Knights in love and in loss
He writes with the pureness of a heart aged with years he has not lived

A man so manly he could never understand
The heart of a poet soft yet strong, a spirit of song and light

A love so surreal in it’s depth, breadth, height
A love that was so beyond it was only “this” and nothing more

A friend, a lover who never truly loved
Choosing second best and wasting life

Teacher Lover Poet Dreamer Cheater
Sadness so deep to drown who only wants to save and be loved

And he who gave life and loves blindly
Beauty and perfection is all he sees through love tainted eyes

God’s gift I am to be as Woman of his rib
But where is that breast to which I belong?

Come to me – be one with me
Find me, I wait for you!

Fire in my soul, love in my heart for you
I wait in patient pining for His will to be done

Do you live in this life or the next?
Must I wait till judgment to see the twin of my soul?

Patience is my name and so the Father spoke
Wait…and I will be with you
Wait…and I will hold your hand
Wait…and I will be with you
Wait…and he will come…

…and in your wait you are not alone.

Ahhhhh Spring Time!!

2005-04-20T19:06:00.000-04:00

Blue skies! Mornings full of birds so excited with the prospect of the day that they sing before the sun even peeks over the trees. The world becomes green. And yellow, and red, and pink, and purple! Daffodils and crocus welcome us to a new season of life renewing itself.

And I start making plans. Windows must be washed, the garage swept out, rugs washed and hung out to dry. Sure, they sound like chores, more work to be done after a day of work for someone else. But to me they are the little things that make me look forward to this time of year. Time to open the windows wide and let the lace blow in the breeze! To put the bed linens out to dry crisp and fresh in the sunlight! How I would hate to live in one of those new communities where you can’t hang out a line of wash – to me it means home.

I’ll pull out my sewing projects now. Motivated by the beautiful magazines full of bright sunny homes on the cover, all with snappy white slip covers and vases full of peonies. It’s time to get busy like the bees, buzzing around and turning the warm cozy cave of winter into a happy home full of sunshine and smiles.

And this year I look to spring with the extra excitement of a new life. Love has come to me, bright and happy and exciting as the daffodils. Hope has turned to bliss. Fear has turned to contentment. Sadness has turned to joy. Again, life renews itself. This spring I will look forward with a new hope. Not one of despair and wondering, but a hope which sustains me and moves me toward the future. To a future where, perhaps one day, I’ll have a little girl of my own to share the spring with. A little one to share my wonder at the amazing way life renews itself year after year. And toward life with the man whom I know will fulfill and complete me. The one who has come with me to this new place – this springtime of our life together, where we make plans and look to the future. No longer looking alone we now look with the same eyes to a common place.

This time next year we will be counting the days to our wedding. A spring wedding! How perfectly fitting I think. When the rest of the world will be renewing itself, yet again, in its never ending succession, we will be starting our life together as a new creation in Christ.

And so we will make plans. And in between now, and the last spring time of our lives, I will press the petals of these days between the pages of my heart to remember them always. The sweetness of springtime. Full of bright promise, crisp linen, vases of peonies, and love. It’s what I live for.

Eye of the Beholder

2005-04-20T18:58:00.000-04:00

What is beauty? What have we been taught to perceive as beauty in the world around us? If one is to believe Madison Avenue, then it’s the lithe and sexy supermodel – legs that are 6 feet long, dark flowing hair and seductive eyes.

Society tries to feed us this image and make us believe it. We are told that if we don’t have the perfect abs, the perfect car, the perfect lips, the perfect job – we just aren’t one the “beautiful people” – and there’s something wrong with us.

And some times we fall for it. We cut ourselves to “fix” what we are. To change what we were given so it fits the distorted view of society. We can be beautiful…if only.
But in reality we know beauty to be something else. Something we really don’t see at all. We just know it. We may see it with our eyes, but it is the heart which recognizes the true beauty.

Our kindergarten teacher taught us that there is beauty in the flowers for mother that we draw with crayons on crumpled colored construction paper. Mom thinks they are beautiful, because they came from us. She sees beauty in the smudged drawing of her that makes her look like she’s been on a bender, but the beauty is all she can see.

A child as it slips from the womb, bluish gray and wrinkled, covered in blood and mucous. Does this fit the plastic Hollywood image? Yet we weep with joy at the beauty of the event.

Our spouse sees us as we grow old and gray. Time lines the face and hands, with the mosaic of our lives. Like fine china, crazed with loving use. But still he thinks we are beautiful, and more even than before time touched our porcelain glaze.

So in spite of how society tries so desperately hard to tell us that we don’t know what truly is beautiful, how is it that we really do know better? Can you imagine looking at a beaten and bloody body of a man and thinking of beauty? Would you ever be able to see the anguish in the eyes of one who is being pounded with nails and think of beauty?

Christ gave us the ability to do just that.

He gave us the ability to see. Not with our eyes, but with our heart, with our soul. To see beyond the suffering and the grief. Beyond the blood and the gore. Because what lies beyond is something so beautiful as to take our breath way. It is the gift He gives. It is what He offers. To the casual observer who does not believe in Christ, the crucifixion is a horrendous and hideous act of brutal savagery upon an innocent man. But – when you take that leap of Faith, and take what Christ has freely given, your eyes are opened to the larger and truly more beautiful picture.

Take that leap! Jump – from 30,000 feet – take the free fall! If you believe that God will be there at the bottom waiting to catch you, it will be a beautiful flight. If not……well, let Hollywood write the scene for you.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. We’ve heard it all our lives. Could it be that the beholder isn’t the one who is stupid enough to see beauty where others don’t, but truly the one who sees beauty where only God would be clever enough to hide it?