Original air date: 28Jan10
[Blogger’s warning: this entry involves “language” ... words such as “estrogen” and even “uterus” are included. Read on at your own risk.]
Measure of a Man ~~Jack Ingram
“Do the best you can do,
love many / trust few,
Work hard for the money in your hand,
That’s the measure of a man.”
According to Jack Ingram, it’s pretty simple to measure a man. Grow to the point where you choose what’s noble, swallow your pride, and have a respectable woman by your side and you’re branded a Man by a catchy country song. But is it really that simple? Just how DO we “measure a man?” What criteria do we use? Is the measure of a man the amount of income they bring into the family? The years they are married or the number of children they have? What about the number of times they have thrown their coat over a puddle so that a fair maiden can walk over it? I have been wondering lately just what exactly is our measuring stick. What about a woman? How do we measure a woman? (And no, I’m NOT talking about the 24-36-26 kinda measurements.) Well ... maybe I am. Isn’t that at least part of it? After all, if you were an archeologist from another time & place and you were studying America in 2010, what would you see as the traits that are esteemed in a woman? Her noble character and a gentle & quiet spirit would surely NOT make the ‘top 10’ by studying our media! So do we try to say we aren’t influenced by that? In fact, does what we say and what we feel even resemble each other?! Are they even distant cousins? Recently I have had to face the reality that not only are those not even ugly step-sisters to each other in my brain, but I doubt they’ve ever even shared spinach dip at a family reunion before. I don’t think they’ve ever met. But how dare I admit that! Here I am, going on record to say that I’m a hypocrite. Yup, here you have it in black & white. (Or at least grey & cream.) And here’s where I sink even lower: not ONLY does what I say not match what I feel, but the standard by which I judge myself isn’t even close to the standard by which I judge others. I wish it were, though, because I am a WHOLE lot kinder to others. I am able to give others forgiveness, for example, MUCH easier than I forgive myself, and I expect (& nearly demand) growth and maturity in myself at a super-human rate that I would never dream of holding my friends accountable to. I get so disappointed with myself when I fail to meet those standards. But what about the worth of a woman? Please don’t get your hopes up that I am going to gift-wrap a nicely concluded finishing statement by the end of this entry. I’m not being mean, it’s simply because I can’t give what I don’t have ... and I have no resolution to this question yet in my heart. Six or seven years ago, if you had asked me, “What makes a woman?”, my answer would have been one thing. One year ago, it would have been another. For some reason, my recent *diagnosis of Endo changes things. Maybe because of the limited treatment options. My next order of business is to find a new GYN to treat me. Because Endo is “encouraged” by the presence of estrogen, we have to rid my body of estrogen in order to control my pain & problems. Between the Endo and the Behcet’s, it seems that my body’s biggest enemy is, well, my body. Talk about being “Behind Enemy Lines!” I live with the enemy! I am the enemy. So in order to beat this “enemy” in my skin, we are going to have to take out (or neutralize) the parts that are causing the problems. That leaves [for the most part] the two options of: (a) medically-inducing the state of menopause by receiving injections every 3 months, which really messes with my body; or (b) surgically-inducing menopause by removing my uterus and ovaries ... (who are the little guys responsible for making most of my hormones) -which really messes with my body.
Read: “surgically-removing what makes me a woman.”
Now, SURELY I don’t REALLY believe that one organ makes me a woman any more than another organ. I had my wisdom teeth out, and I didn’t have an identity crisis. I have had bunions and keloids removed, and I felt no special loss. Heck, I could even donate a kidney and not feel less of a woman. So why are these organs any different?? Because these are the ones we’re afraid to talk about at the dinner table? When talking to most every medical professional I’ve seen about the decision of whether or not to have the hysterectomy, their #1 question is: “Did you plan on having kids?” Well, no .... we didn’t plan on having kids. They get this relieved look on their face, as if that was the ONLY consideration - and one doc even said, “Well then it won’t be a big deal.” Would you believe me if I told you that doc was a woman who was in her low 30’s?! I just stared at her, stunned. Kinda brings to mind the saying about, If I have to explain it for you to understand, you’ll never understand. My life has never been geared around the plan to have kids. When I married Danny, the fact that he came as a “package deal” with Chris and Kayla was a blessing I could never have imagined -- it is definitely the closest to having kids I will ever be. But they are both grown .... it’s not like I’m teaching anyone to tie their shoes; we are more on the peer level than that of a parent-child. You can’t get far in scripture before you read that God respects a woman who takes the roles of wife and mother seriously, and dedicates her life to bringing glory to God by fulfilling those roles with her whole heart. But what about women who will not be mothers? I can easily give a whole page full of scripture, not to mention just common sense, to explain why I know [in my head] that God values each man and each woman, regardless of whether or not they procreate. In fact, even the apostle Paul states that marriage is only appropriate for some ... and that for many people it’s more desirable to never marry! “The woman who is unmarried ... is concerned about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body & spirit; but the one who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how she may please her husband. This I say ... to promote what is appropriate.” (1 Cor 7:34-35) Those are hardly the words of a God who says every woman has to bear children. God does not have one mold that every woman must fit (well, at least not in this respect.) So when I decided to talk to an older woman in the church who has reconciled being a godly woman and yet not having children, I looked around and realized that there isn’t a woman older than me in our church that has not had kids. Hmm. But really, this isn’t a decision about having kids -- that was never up for debate, and Endo doesn’t change that one way or the other. I say all that just to say, as someone who was trying to reconcile being everything that God is calling me to be as a godly woman in my present circumstances, being faced with getting rid of the parts of my body that define me as a woman kinda poured a little salt in an already complicated wound.
Uh-oh. See? I said that phrase without even thinking about it. Did you catch it? I said that those organs “define me as a woman.” How can I be so shallow on one hand, yet not believe it at all on the other? I think a lot of it comes down to how we define what is “feminine.” The typical picture that comes into my head when I think of that word is wearing a flowy, pink skirt with a daisy in my hair as I bring a pitcher of homemade iced tea out to where my man is digging a ditch in the front yard. But is that the ONLY definition of feminine? Am I just as feminine when I’m spinning donuts in my red 4x4 through giant mud puddles just because I love how a muddy truck looks? I mean really, does being feminine require pink high heels? This is a web that has been woven back to before I was even a Christian, when I first began grappling with the vast chasm between the world’s definition of a woman and God’s. My definitions of being a woman and being feminine are being challenged and redefined on a virtually daily basis ... and this Endo process is only complicating it.
In my head I am struggling to quaintly wrap up this post, and the reality is that I can’t do that because there’s no resolution in my heart. All I can offer is a host of questions, and pray that the Spirit reveals to me the guidance I need to make this decision. I can EASILY look at the women I know that have had this surgery and without even batting an eye I can surely say that they are every bit a woman, whether or not they still have a certain organ or two. So why do I feel the standard is so different for me?? Why is this even an issue???
