Is the church a democracy? This is a question that my husband and I have been mulling over this week. While a seemingly abstract question, or at the very least random, the way you answer this questions has a LOT of implications for your individual life. Just hang with me and I’ll explain how.

At the heart of this question is the location of authority within every church. Assuming God and Scripture to be the highest authorities, the question of democracy asks whether the next level of authority lies in the hands of church leaders, or the congregation. On this matter, there is a fairly wide spectrum of churches. On the one end you have Catholics, for whom there is a trickle down structure of authority that finds its head with the Pope. On the opposite end you have denominations like Baptists, who give a lot more freedom to the individual congregation. Contrary to popular opinion, the Southern Baptist Convention does not rule over or dictate the lives of Baptist churches. Historically, Baptists churches have taught the autonomy or independence of the local church, which means Baptist churches can look as different as the people in each congregation. That’s why you hear about crazy fringe churches in the news that don the name “Baptist.” They aren’t reflecting a wider Baptist tradition, but instead their own congregation’s fringe beliefs. Baptist tradition gives congregations that freedom.

So we are presented with two extremes: all the authority lies in the leadership, or all the authority lies in the congregation. Given our country’s ideas about government, we tend to buck against any structure that gives absolute power to a higher ranking authority figure. And I can sympathize with that. There has got to be accountability. Unchecked power leads to corruption.

However, I’m not sure full-fledged democracy is the answer either. In Scripture we see a couple examples of democracy, and they’re not positive. In Exodus 32 the people took a vote so Aaron acquiesced to the consensus: he gave them a golden calf. In 1 Samuel the popular consensus was to appoint a king over Israel, so God gave them one: Saul. Throughout Scripture, the popular consensus was often a sinful one. That’s why God so frequently sent prophets to hold His people accountable. Without strong, godly leadership, they were like sheep without a shepherd. They strayed.

So while I am by no means Catholic in my understanding of authority, I am also wary of a truly democratic model of the church. But here’s where this issue really applies to each and every one of our lives: If we believe the authority of our local church lies first in the congregation, and not in the hands of leaders on whom God has granted authority, we give ourselves an out. We give ourselves permission to not follow the leading of our pastors and the movement of the church. Say the church sets out a vision for its people–the leaders feel called to serve the community more, give sacrificially to a cause, or send more people on the mission field—but you don’t “feel called” to this particular vision, so you don’t participate. The church’s larger vision is irrelevant to you. You simply don’t listen because you are the “decider.”

This is deeply problematic to me. I don’t want to overlook the individual circumstances of people’s lives, but this approach to church leadership can also reveal a tremendous lack of trust in God. If you serve a church that has systems of accountability for its leaders (that is to say, there are no blatant abuses of power at work in your church), then passages like Hebrews 13:17 provide our direction. We are to “obey our leaders and submit to their authority.” If they call the church to a vision of outreach that is Scriptural, we aren’t given a “what if” clause. We are called to follow.

While this might sound scary to some people, as if I’m affirming a kind of blank-check power to our church leaders, there is an alternate way of thinking about it. If God has given you leaders to guide you, teach you, bless you and grow you as a vehicle of His Holy Spirit, but you constantly defer to your own judgment about what is best, then you’re missing out on a blessing. You’re missing out on an opportunity to exercise faith in ways that you might not have considered on your own.

The purpose of me writing this is not to resolve the tricky question of church polity–how a church should be structured. There are strengths and weaknesses to every model in the book because we are all sinners serving a sovereign, redemptive God. What I DO want you to consider in the face of all these questions is your own view of authority. Has it been shaped more by your culture or by Scripture? Leaders are not perfect, but God calls us to submit to them without providing an escape clause. If we can do this responsibly and without bitterness, I suspect we will find blessing and new spiritual depth through our obedience to Him.

Now that Thanksgiving is over the Christmas season has officially begun! I’m proud to say that this year I managed to hold off listening to any and all Christmas music until now, and I successfully avoided the Black Friday madness once again. Although I admit that the latter didn’t take much convincing. On Thanksgiving Day Ike and I were driving to my grandmother’s when we heard a commercial belittling other store sales that waited “as long as 7am to open.” This particular store, on the other hand, proudly opened at 4am! Seriously?!? This has gotten out of control!

The Christmas season has also launched me and Ike into a debate about whether or not to tell our future kids that there’s a Santa Claus. When I was little and discovered that my parents had been lying to me my ENTIRE LIFE about Santa Claus, I felt very much betrayed, so I’m having some serious misgivings about doing the same to my kids. Not to mention the fact that Christmas is about Jesus, not Santa. Ike, on the other hand, doesn’t feel so strongly about Santa, and wonders how it will work out practically speaking when other kids are talking about Santa and our kids are the party poopers who burst their bubble. I guess we’ve got time to figure this stuff out, but let me know if you have any insights.

There is a lot of craziness that surrounds Christmas and it’s largely a distraction, but I wanted to share with you one thought as we enter into this season. Since I lost my grandfather 2 weeks ago, I’ve found it really difficult to listen to Christmas music. He loved Christmas music more than anyone I know, so it’s been hard for me to listen to it without crying. My heart aches inside every time, which makes me even more sad because I love Christmas music so much myself.

I imagine Christmas is like that for a lot of people. While it’s a time to rejoice, we’re also reminded of loved ones who are no longer celebrating with us. It can be very bittersweet.

The one thing that has comforted me during this time is to focus on why it is we observe Christmas; just what it is we’re anticipating. Hope. While I miss my grandfather so much and our traditions will now be tinged with sadness as he is no longer with us, I’m simultaneously reminded that the reason we celebrate Christmas at all is because of the hope we have in God’s redeeming work through Christ. This little baby would one day die and rise again so that we no longer have to despair or mourn. And this little baby also reminds us that those who have gone before us are singing songs to their Savior which make Handel’s Messiah pale in comparison.

So if you’re like me and you’re missing someone right now during this joyful season, I want you to know that you’re not alone, but I also encourage you to take heart. The reason we celebrate is because we have hope. God has come near, and death is not the end of the story. That is why we sing!

When it comes to giving our money to the church, my husband and I have tried to abide by two basic principles: 1) Give generously on a consistent basis, and 2) Budget our money in a way that allows us to be generous at unexpected times. For instance, say that a family in the church has an urgent financial need. We don’t want every penny to be so accounted for at the beginning of each month that we’re unable to help them. We want to have the freedom to give if such a need arises.

Granted, we don’t have a lot of money. Many of you reading this may not either. But these two principles of generosity can apply to more than just money. They can, for instance, apply to our time as well. While a lot of Christians do pretty well on the first principle–giving of their time to the church–I’m not sure many of us allow enough breathing room for those unexpected needs. Sure, if the need is urgent enough we’ll skip Bible study or miss work, but in doing so we’re only making life more hectic. We’re adding to the chaos instead of drawing from an overflow.

This is something I’ve come to reflect on a lot as I’ve cut down on my schedule these past few months. When someone has really needed me, I can give of my time freely without having to rework a thousand tiny details. But even more importantly, I can be totally present with others. I’m not tired or stressed so I can be more attentive and caring. My patience is less easily tested and I can have the clarity of mind to channel the Holy Spirit in my words, rather than speak out of the jumbled mess in my brain.

Life’s unexpected needs and emergencies don’t always occur on a schedule, so we need to account for that in the way we plan our days. And if an emergency doesn’t come up, then that’s time you can spend with God, friends, or family just allowing yourself to rest. Resting itself is an investment in the quality of your time at work and with others.

So be generous with your time, but not so generous that you stop being generous. That sentence makes me laugh to look at it, but that’s exactly what I mean to say. We must be wise, discerning and selective with the precious few hours that God gives us each day. Otherwise, our own plans for generosity might end up conflicting with God’s.

For a great passage on this, check out Luke 10:38-42. When it comes to time management, are you a Martha or a Mary? Most of us are Martha’s and we oddly pride ourselves in that fact, but Jesus doesn’t. Busy does not equal better. Sometimes busy means little more than distracted and ineffective.

Do you feel like you can be honest with your friends about anything? Or are there some things you just can’t share with them? You know it would hurt the friendship or strain the relationship somehow.

I’m not talking about secret sins or vices (though confession is certainly important in friendship). What I’m talking about is honesty at the risk of disagreement. Maybe you’re the only one of your friends who questions the inerrancy of the Bible, or who doesn’t think women should be ordained, or who believes it’s ok if the government allows same-sex unions, or who is a committed Calvinist. If you have any views with which your friends might disagree, can you talk about them?

In my experience, this hasn’t always been the case in my friendships. I have learned, over time, that there are certain taboo topics that cannot be raised. Depending on which circle of friends I am in, I’ve learned to avoid voicing my complete thoughts on subjects that would earn me an accusing look that says, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were on that team.” Immediately, I’m made to feel like less of a pure Christian. By voicing my opinion or question, the entire legitimacy of my salvation suddenly falls into question.

And just to be clear, this experience has transpired with both conservative Christian friends AND liberal Christian friends. And I’m sure I’ve even done it to others as well.

When we respond to theological questions and opinions in a manner that draws relational lines in the sand, we teach one another to be less honest. We also learn to only be friends with people who are as closely aligned with our own views as possible, which stifles growth and can be a deceptive form of intimacy.

Now that is not to say we shouldn’t be friends with people who share the same values. As Christians, the Bible tells us to fellowship with other Christians, not for the sake of feeding off one another’s same-mindedness, but to encourage, affirm and guard one another’s faith. Christ-centered fellowship is crucial for discipleship.

But most of us will never find anyone, including our own spouses, with whom we will ALWAYS agree. So the question is: Are you using your differences to increase the depth of your friendship, or are you avoiding tough conversations, thereby resulting in a superficial intimacy?

I recently heard a theologian commend Catholicism for promoting a unity so strong that Catholics can fight with another without causing division. I kind of like that idea. What if we loved one another so well that we could fight about something (respectfully, of course) without fear of being rejected as a friend? This kind of honesty has got to exist in marriage if there is to be any intimacy or trust in the relationship, by why not friendship too?

Christian friendships of this type require two things of us:

1. The courage to be vulnerable when you’re in the minority. It’s scary to put yourself out there when you think others will disagree with you or judge you. But if you never do this, then your friends don’t really know you either. In the interest of authentic relationships, be the first to set an example of soul-bearing intimacy.

2. Be the kind of friend with whom others can be honest about themselves. Be humble. Listen. Don’t make snap judgments. Even if your friend confesses an opinion you consider to be the most blasphemous thing you’ve ever heard, they’ll never talk to you about it again if you proceed to explain exactly how they’re wrong. We need to love other people so profoundly that they feel the freedom to openly process their thoughts and questions. When we do this in community we make accountability possible, rather than forcing people to mull over their ideas in unmonitored isolation.

Talk about this with your closest friends. What exactly is your relationship based upon? Unwavering agreement on all issues? Or unwavering love for God and one another? In John 13:35 Jesus said that the world will know we’re his disciples by our love for one another. Love has never implied the absence of conflict, but the transcendence of it.

Some of you who know me and my husband know this has been a really stressful time for us. Ike is in the throes of applying to PhD programs. He wants to study theology so we’ve been looking at schools all over the country and the world.

Now let me begin by saying that I totally underestimated this process. The other day I ran into a friend who’s going through the same thing, and she confessed that she’s irritable all the time, snaps at her mom and roommate regularly, and cries once a week. Yikes! But I can see where she’s coming from. In a sense, this next step judges the quality and value of her last 3 years of work. You’re essentially putting yourself out there to be judged by really important people. It’s no wonder Ike’s been grumpy.

Unfortunately, I haven’t been the most supportive wife. I keep giving him great advice like, “You wanna study theology, don’t you? Then why don’t you just trust God!” Not super helpful. Or encouraging. Or sensitive.

We’ve continued to butt heads over this matter–him being stressed, me responding with super-spiritual advice–and then I came upon an insight that was just the kick in the pants I needed. I was reading Wendy Alsup’s blog “Practical Theology for Women,” and she drew a parallel between joblessness and infertility that opened my eyes to what Ike is feeling. She wrote:

First of all, have you personally struggled with infertility or miscarriage? If so, you are uniquely equipped now to better understand your husband’s burdens with his job. If you haven’t struggled with child bearing issues, try to think about how you would feel if you had — if all your friends were easily getting pregnant and telling you what worked for them but none of it worked for you. If your vision for your future involved raising children but you realized your powerlessness to accomplish that on your own. In my own experience, I found very clear parallels between my struggles with fears and insecurities when I confronted the fact I may not be able to have children and my husband’s emotional struggles when faced with unemployment and job insecurity.

One thing I noted when I was struggling with infertility was that advice on what to do and things to try was helpful at times. At other times, it just added a weight to an already overtaxing burden. Similarly, during the near year my husband was unemployed, he was glad to try most any and everything anyone suggested. More on his resume. Less on his resume. Try this company. Try that company. But there came a point when every good suggestion he was given didn’t produce any fruit. And he needed a definite break from well meaning advice on what to try next.

To read the whole blog click here.

Wendy’s words were kind of an epiphany for me. First, it helped me to conceptualize my husband’s struggles in a way I hadn’t before. Though the circumstances are different from losing a job, the pressures are essentially the same. He’s trying to get into school, and our future hinges on it. That is a pressure he feels very uniquely from me. Thinking of it in terms of my own “source of meaning” was helpful.

But more importantly, her words are a template on how to give advice, and how not to. Most Christians, and most people for that matter, are terrible at giving advice. We approach it from a “here’s how to fix it” kind of perspective. Even when that perspective is clothed in language about God, you’re doing the same thing. Wendy’s words reminded me that before giving advice, I need to enter into the person’s space. Imagine what they’re feeling and thinking, and respond accordingly. I need to be quick to listen and slow to speak. I need to let them define the terms of what they need, instead of me.

So while her words were specific to marriage, the underlying approach is prescriptive for all Christians.

Giving advice is an art. We have to study it before we can really get good at it. Clearly I have a lot of learning to do. So as I learn how to be a better wife, as well as a better bringer of wisdom and comfort, I think I’ll use Proverbs 10:19 as my guide:

“When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.”

I have written about Margaret Sanger before (click here for a more in depth blog on her life), but in short she coined the term “birth control” and was the founder of Planned Parenthood. A controversial figure in history, she is commended by some as an activist for women’s rights, and vilified by others for her racist ideology.

Of particular note was her emphasis on eugenics. Eugenics refers to the purging of the human race, purifying it of weak or less desirable individuals through selective breeding and birth control. Eugenics was the driving ideology behind the Nazi Holocaust.

Some pro-choice advocates have attempted to downplay Planned Parenthood’s beginnings by arguing that Sanger’s eugenics ideology has been over-stated. Given that she published articles with titles such as “Some Moral Aspects of Eugenics” (June 1920), “The Eugenic Conscience” (February 1921), “The purpose of Eugenics” (December 1924), “Birth Control and Positive Eugenics” (July 1925), and “Birth Control: The True Eugenics” (August 1928), I’m not sure their argument holds much grounding.

But for further proof, I offer you the following interview with Mike Wallace from 1957. Towards the end of the interview she states that “the greatest sin is to bring children into the world who have disease from their parents and have no chance to be a human being, practically–delinquents, prisoners, and all sorts of people who are marked when they’re born.” That is eugenics language. The interview is also fascinating and slightly weird given that she denies having stated many of the quotations Mike Wallace asks her about.

Also, I can’t help but snicker at Mike Wallace’s endorsements of Philip Morris running throughout the interview. What the heck is a “man’s kind of mildness” anyways?

To view the video click here and then scroll way down. Let me know what you think.

This week has been a sad one for my family. On Sunday morning my grandfather passed away at the age of 87. Two weeks ago I would have never guessed I’d be writing this. Grandaddy was very frail but overall his health was strong. Unfortunately last week he had a mild heart attack which led to congestive heart failure, and he ended up contracting pneumonia. After that, we knew God was ready to take him.

Though very sad, a loss like this is not a tragedy. Not only was Grandaddy a great man who lived a long, happy life, but he was a believer. He used to say the most beautiful blessings I’ve ever heard. I wish I had a recording of them. He loved Jesus so there is hope and joy in this loss, knowing that he is now with his loving Father.

The hardest part about the last week was not his death, but watching him die. He was kept alive by a breathing apparatus that he absolutely hated, and it was a fight for him to breathe. Even though we knew it was God’s time for him to go, dying is ugly. There is nothing beautiful or glamorous about it.

As I sat next to Grandaddy’s bed holding his hand and watching his labored breathing, I was reminded of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 15: “Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” These words provided little comfort in the face of his suffering. That’s when I realized what the verse didn’t say. Paul didn’t proclaim, “Dying, where is your sting? Sickness, where is your victory?” That’s because there really is no goodness in that part of the process. The victory, the peace and the joy all come, ironically, in death. Dying is wretched; death is release. While we often commend people for their fight to live, the greatest glory of a believer comes in their death.

I guess I’m writing all of this to say that as much as I talk about life, as much as I want us to value the divine image in every human being, life is not an end in itself. The preservation of life is not my ultimate purpose. I recently read an article on the BBC about a study in which Christians were found to fight the hardest to stay alive in hospitals. They were the most likely to engage in extraordinary means to live as long as they could. This statistic is ironic, and may reveal a secret idolatry in our hearts. Though we have the greatest reason to embrace death, we fight it the hardest.

While we should value life on earth, we should never make it our idol. Life on earth compared to life with God is but a pale shadow. It is flawed and hard and painful. There is suffering and despair. But because of the Gospel, because of Christ’s sacrifice, death is now our servant. It frees us from our fallible bodies and brings us into everlasting joy in perfect union with God. Though we should never consider taking our own lives to achieve such bliss, nor should we throw up our hands and go to Jesus when the prognosis is grim (perhaps He intends a miracle!), should we fight God so hard when He is clearly calling us home? This is a question that many Christians, including myself, are not prepared to answer.

I miss Grandaddy a lot. He was quite a character. Yesterday my grandmother told me that he’d already planned to get my great uncle an earring as a gag-gift for Christmas. He was a really funny guy, and a light has truly gone out in this world. But over the years his body couldn’t keep up with his mind. Now it can. So I grieve for my family and the loss that we feel, but I do not mourn for him. He is with his Father in Heaven, and I rejoice in that.

 In my last post I explored the thinking behind women who would rather hang out with men than women. As the logic goes, women are too dramatic, emotional, boring, etc. For this and many other reasons, “low maintenance women” don’t want to put up with their “high maintenance” counter-parts.

As I concluded in the last post, this mindset has some troubling implications. When we paint all women in such a negative light, we’re no different than male chauvinists who do the same. We are female chauvinists. And this has theological implications. Rather than seeing women as having been made in the image of God and honoring Scriptural teachings that encourage women to fellowship with one another (Titus 2), we resort to superficial stereotypes that ultimately demean one another, and consequently dishonor God.

With all of that in mind, there is a second dynamic in play here. While a lot of women legitimately struggle to make female friends (perhaps they grew up with 4 brothers and that’s where they fit best!), we risk more than theological error here. There is a second dynamic, and it’s relational.

For some women, the excuse for avoiding female friendships can be a smokescreen for a relational dysfunction. Some women prefer male friendships because they like the attention. Plain and simple. They like thinking of themselves as “one of the guys,” the one girl that her guy friends can relate to. Unlike “those other girls,” she really gets them. It is a way for women to feel special or set apart. They’re not just like every other girl.

This is a need that exists within every woman. We all want to feel unique, and we seek to fulfill it in different ways. But rejecting female friendships should not be one of them. While male friendships are important, they also have to evolve in a way that female relationships don’t . As your male friends get married, or if you get married, you cannot be friends with them the way you were before. In fact, if your guy friends are even dating someone then you need to back off, and that can be a painful change. It can also be hurtful when your close guy friends choose to date other women, but never look your way.

These are obstacles that female friendships don’t encounter. That’s why emotional intimacy with a male friend puts you at greater risk than emotional intimacy with a woman. But more importantly, we should never tear down other women as a means for hiding our own idolatry. If you’re using male friends to fill a void in your life, don’t shift the blame.

So yes, it is perfectly fine to have male friends with whom you can fellowship as brothers and sisters in Christ. Sometimes it’s great to have a guy friend who can give you brotherly advice or a male perspective. But you need a support system of women as well. Proverbs 4:23 says “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.” We typically interpret this verse in the context of dating, but it’s an important filter for friendships too. Be sure you’re entrusting your heart to friends for whom your motives are clear and emotional intimacy will always be appropriate.

With all of this in mind, examine your motives and the nature of your friendships with men. Are you good friends with a man because you’re secretly hoping it will turn into something more? Are you close to a man as a means for filling some need for male attention? Or are you avoiding female friendships because of pride? Do you see yourself as somehow better or more grounded than most women? No matter your relationship status, this is an important issue for all of us.

A couple years ago I came to the conclusion that, on the whole, men are funnier than women. I know a lot of guys that are side-splittingly hilarious, but I don’t know many women who are. In fact, whenever I do meet a woman who I think is genuinely funny, I work as hard as I can to be friends with her and keep her around me.

In sharing this quirk about myself I’m not trying to sound like a jerk. I’m sharing it because this mindset is pretty common among women. While the preference for male friendship may not be as specific as humor, a lot of women prefer male friendships to female. Usually the reasoning is something along the lines of, “I tend to have more guy friends than girl friends. Girls are so catty or dramatic. Guys aren’t like that.” Either you or someone you know has uttered those very words. Am I right?

Having confessed that I myself have shared these sentiments, I believe this logic is a total cop-out and is insulting to women. More specifically, it has two very troubling implications. The first is theological, and the second is relational. In this post I will cover the theological implications of this issue. In my next post I will cover the relational.

Theological

To understand the problematic theology behind this thinking, we have to begin with the mindset behind it. This mindset is based on sweeping stereotypes about women, and we know this for two reasons. First, the numbers don’t compute. I know a LOT of women who use the above excuse for not hanging out with other women. Yet if that many of us truly feel this way, if that many of us are genuinely looking for drama-free relationships, then why haven’t we been able to find each other? It’s not like trying to find a needle in a hay stack. Yes, some women are catty and dramatic, but there are also a lot of women who aren’t. Especially in the church! If you can’t find female friends with a good head on their shoulders, then you’re probably not looking hard enough.

Second, the above excuse is based on the fallacy that only women are dramatic. I know plenty of men who are dramatic. Drama is not an exclusively female attribute. Men can still be moody, condescending, or lash out in fear. Not because they’re less manly, but because they’re sinners. As sinners, we are all subject to fits of craziness. We’ve all done it. And while women are admittedly prone to be more emotional, that emotion can often manifest itself in the form of warmth, kindness, hospitality, empathy, or a listening ear. Neither emotion nor femaleness equals drama.

In other words, women are avoiding other women as a result of unjustifiable stereotypes. We’re making giant claims about one another that can’t hold up. While personality differences prevent us from connecting with everyone, it’s absurd to write off ALL women based on sweeping generalizations. That would be like a single woman refusing to befriend married women because “they all just want to be housewives and churn out babies.” Sure, there are married women like that, but are they all like that? Heck no.

In the face of these stereotypes, we reveal the true spirit of what we’re saying. We’re really no better than chauvinistic men who stereotype women in insulting ways. We are female chauvinists.

Now if you look up the word “chauvinism” in the dictionary, it’s defined as a “prejudiced belief in the superiority of one’s own gender, group, or kind.” Given that definition of chauvinism, it would seem impossible for women to be chauvinists about other women. But this definition actually sheds light on the female chauvinist mentality. Women who don’t like other women often distance themselves from their gender, as if they’re somehow less a part of it. “I fit better with men.” They are attempting to judge from the outside. These women have stereotyped femininity so profoundly that their personal aversion to drama and gossip is interpreted as being less female. To be drama-free is to be less of a woman.

At this point we need to stop and consider what a negative conception of femininity this is! Do we really believe this about God’s design for women? Perhaps not consciously, but that is where that logic takes us.

As the crown of God’s creation, this kind of chauvinism against women hardly seems justifiable, or Biblical. We need to be aware of the statements that our actions are making. To define all women according to some negative attribute is to make a theological statement, because it makes a statement about the Maker. It is to either call God’s creation of women imperfect or unoriginal (since you’re assuming ALL women are dramatic girly-girls), or to make women out to be more fallen than men. According to Scripture, this cannot be so.

Be careful about the statements you make about other women, and make sure they are consistent with God’s words about women. As women we have a vested interest in glorifying God through our femininity. This not only means we honor God with our own lives, but we build up the women around us as well. I don’t mean to underestimate the difficulty that some women genuinely have in finding solid, female friendships, but I promise those women are out there. God created us in all shapes and sizes, so ask Him and He will provide. Just be sure not to slander the glorious creation of God’s precious daughters in the process. We will never be best friends with everyone, but the girly-girl who likes to wear pink and the tom-boy who likes to go four-wheeling can all glorify God equally. We need to celebrate that fact, and celebrate the creative God who blessed this world with so many different reflections of Him.

*For an interesting secular take on this topic, check out Ariel Levy’s “Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture”

This weekend marked 3 months since Ike and I got married. And an awesome 3 months it has been! We’ve had a ton of fun together, but we’ve also learned a lot about one another and ourselves in the process.

In particular, I’ve realized that I’m a bit of a control freak when it comes to driving. You see, I’m finding myself in the role of passenger more often than I ever have before. Ike almost always drives, and this is hard for me. We’ll be driving some place that I’ve been a million times, but then, horror of horrors, he decides to take a different route. He turns left where I would have turned right. He takes the interstate instead of the back roads. It starts to drizzle but he doesn’t turn on his windshield wipers because he “claims” he can still see out the windshield.

As a result of these decision-making discrepancies, I continually find myself asking gentle yet immasculatingly annoying questions like, “Love, don’t you think you need to turn your lights on at this point in the day?” or “Did you mean to take that turn? This route seems a little out of the way.” It usually bugs him when I ask questions like that so I’m trying to stop, but it’s really hard. Many times I would do things very differently from him. And as a passenger, I feel completely out of control.

The ironic thing about this situation is that Ike is actually a far superior driver. It’s not that I’m a bad driver, but he’s got a great sense of direction and spatial awareness. He can drive through heavy traffic and parallel park more adeptly than I can. He doesn’t get lost as easily. And he has an almost psychic ability to find parking spaces in a packed lot. He’s pretty much better in every possible way.

Why, then, do I feel this need to be in control when he is clearly the better driver? Why do I have to be in the driver’s seat, or at least making navigational calls from the passenger’s seat? Why can’t I just trust him?

This predicament confronted me head on when we went to Chicago last weekend. We were checking out schools for his PhD work next year, and we could only afford for one of us to drive the rental car. Because of our schedule it had to be me, so I soon found myself in the position of navigating unfamiliar, frantic Chicago highways in a tiny black Ford Focus. My GPS was essentially worthless with all the tunnels, my car was about half the size of every other vehicle on the road, and for some reason about 4 exit ramps in a row were all closed for construction–thereby trapping me on the Chicago highway of peril. By the time I made it to Union Station in downtown Chicago, I wanted to curl up in the fetal position. I wanted Ike to drive.

And therein lies my dilemma. On the one hand, I like driving because I can do it my way. I can go the ways I think are best. I can know that all the hazards are being accounted for. But if Ike drives, we are arguably safer. It is more reasonable and wise to put him in the driver’s seat.

As I wove through a confusing alignment of orange barrels directing me to who knows where, I reflected on all this. What makes more sense? For me to be in control, or surrender control to someone who’s a better, safer driver? The obvious answer is the latter.

It’s then that I realized my whole driving saga was not only an analogy for my marriage, but my relationship with God as well. In the case of my marriage, I like to be in control of my life but God blessed me with someone who complements my personality and abilities. He’s strong where I’m weak, he’s patient when I’m short-tempered, and he’s intuitive when I’m oblivious. Knowing all this, I can either trust my husband, or maintain my independence. I can either benefit from our arrangement, or I can reject it.

But it’s also significant to note that while I was driving through Chicago, my sense of personal control actually resulted in greater fear. What a picture of the Christian life! When we try to control our lives instead of submitting our cares to God, our sense of control is fleeting. Deep down, you know that you don’t really have control. Unlike God, you don’t have the power to orchestrate all things for good in your life. You can’t anticipate how everyone will treat you and what unexpected life circumstances will transpire. That’s why being in control of your life is the most terrifying place to be. It places a tremendous burden on your shoulders that you were never meant to bear, and it sets you up for disappointment. On a human level, control is little more than an illusion. The only person capable of claiming TOTAL control is God.

This is a hard reality for me to swallow, not only when it comes to God but especially in my marriage. It’s a lot more difficult to trust my husband because he’s an imperfect human being just like me. It’s one thing to trust God, the perfect Creator of the Universe, and quite another to trust someone who makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in his lap while using his knees to steer.

But surrendering control and trusting my husband is ultimately another means for trusting God. I trust that God gave my husband to me for a reason, and I need to learn from him. I trust that my husband is a provision of God’s grace in my life, and I need to embrace that grace.

This principle is also true for other areas of my life. Nearly every life circumstance, major decision, temptation or trial confronts us with the question: Do you want to be in control, or God? It took a terrifying journey down I-90 for me to realize that I really do want my husband in the driver’s seat. As much as I like to drive and make the decisions, it’s also a lot scarier that way.

And it’s the same in life. We can choose to be in the driver seat. We can choose a trip of greater anxiety and greater danger. We have that choice. But wouldn’t you rather hand the controls over to someone with THE perfect driving record? (…Pardon the cheesy analogy…) I know that I would, and I’ll remember that the next time I want my husband to take a different route, or stop making his lunch while driving 70 mph down the interstate. I’ll also remember that the next time I wanna jerk the wheel away from God, who knows infinitely more than I about navigating the obstacles and perils of my life.