Source of Confidence

Being the father of a soon to be 11 year old girl has markedly raised my awareness of way we are constantly bombarded by images of the supposed ideals of feminine beauty. It is given that context that my heart sank the other night, when in the car on the way home, my daughter asked me if I thought she was fat.

I was thinking about my response to her this morning as I was listening to a public service announcement on the local sports talk station on AM radio. The name of the organization that had procured the spot escapes me, but the message was about women's self image and the last line has haunted me.

Help the next generation of young women see their beauty as a source of confidence.

All I've been able to ask myself ever since hear the ad is "Really? Isn't that the problem rather than the solution?"

I happened upon an interview with Demi Moore in People magazine recently in which she was asked about her fears. Her reply is telling. "What scares me is that I'm going to ultimately find out at the end of my life that I'm not really lovable, that I'm not worthy of being loved."

Here is a woman that lives in the Hollywood culture of beauty. She's been lauded for her beauty and is exactly what our culture would hold up as the standard of what a woman should look like. If anyone should be able to derive a sense of confidence from her beauty, it is Demi Moore.

But she DOESN'T have confidence. In fact, peeling back the layers reveals a deep insecurity in her value and her ability to be loved. Confidence in her beauty, developing her look, and maintaining her image have done nothing to give her a secure identity.

Physical beauty, whatever we define it to be, is fleeting. Maybe in her soul, Demi realizes this. Some day she is going to be wrinkled, sagging, and gray. Time will catch up with her like it does everyone else. Then what is there for her, or anyone else focused on the mirror for significance, to take confidence in?

Our view of ourselves is developed externally. We need an outside standard. So, it is important that we pick the right one to go back to; a cornerstone that is stable and unchanging. Physical beauty is not that standard for women or men; it is captive to whims, comparison, trends, and age. It will be facade that will exhaust the pursuer and leave them unsatisfied. Like Demi Moore.

That is why, when my daughter asked if she was fat, I first told her no. Her weight is normal for her age. We talked about how she eats lots of fruit and veggies, she exercises and is active, and that her body is changing. But, I also took the time to go further. The women she sees on TV, even the supposed plain and normal ones, are not real. It is a false standard. My daughter's body will be shaped differently, and that is OK because God is the one who made it.

Which goes to my ultimate answer to her. Beauty is not a source of confidence. Neither is anything else that requires a value comparison or a leader board, for that will ultimately lead to being unsettled and never sure if she is good enough.

My daughter's source of confidence should come from the fact that through Jesus, God has entered her story and invited her to be part of his. She is chosen and loved. Not because of what she's done, but because that is what He made her for. She bears the image of the Creator and is part of Christ's body.

Those things never change. Which makes them a true source of confidence.

God's Doppler Shift

Ever been standing still when an ambulance or fire truck passes you with its siren wailing? You notice right away that the sound of the siren as it approaches is different that the sound it makes when it gets further away. Same siren...different sound. It's a matter of perspective. As the siren approaches, the sounds waves scrunch together creating one tone and as the siren goes away the waves stretch out. New tone. Here is a picture to attempt clarification:

It is amazing the difference your perspective can make. Another instance would be if you were driving a good, safe 55 miles per hour in your car. When another car passes you going 70 mph, from your frame of reference the car that passes appears to be going 15 mph, but if you were standing on the side of the road hitchhiking the car would certainly seem to be going 70. It's all about your perspective.

Fairly simple observations like that take a great deal of physics equations to describe. Sometimes it is like that with simple stuff, it's just a little more complicated that it appears on the surface.

Yesterday I took a walk and something like that clicked in place for me. Perspective. Specifically, what perspective am I drawing my view of self from. Lately I have been stuck feeling like a used McDonald's styrofoam container (I know they don't use them anymore, but work with me here). Used up and discarded. Feeling worthless and full of regret.

One of the things that has been tough to navigate on my journey to restoration has been people's response to me. For the record, I know that what I did was selfish and stupid. A betrayal of the trust of my spouse, friends and church members. You will not find me shirking that reality. With that said, I know that trust and friendship is earned and that takes a lot of time.

What I was not expecting was the distance. The running away. Like I have spiritual leprosy that others could catch. "I'll call you"...and then nothing. Doing lunch...then met with excuses about getting together in the future. I've grieved over this rejection which has been feeding my sense of worthlessness and unworthiness.

Something clicked yesterday, though. What I was feeding myself was generated by other people's perspective. Not God's. Thinking from God's vantage point, I am fully loved. Jesus still died for me, that did not expire. Sure God is disappointed, but I'm forgiven. He is not discarding me, He is using this for my good, my strengthening, and the good of His kingdom. It is His perspective that I have to live out of.

That's been my Doppler Shift. Accepting myself as God sees me...not so I can stay the same, but so that He can change me and lead me through His plan for me. That's the irony. In the old way of thinking I was going to get stuck. Stuck in regret. Stuck in hopelessness. In this new perspective I am open to God's change, and more accepting of the process - painful as it is.

I think that is what Peter had in mind when he wrote "set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed." My hope and my perspective must be fully focused on the grace of God. Thank you God for that.

Walls, Landmines, and Balance

I am a pretty linear guy. Maybe it is the math background, proving something by letting one piece of information lead to the next. Or maybe my nature is why math was appealing to me in the first place. You can hear it when I speak, whether in a class or in church. This linear quality also appears in that I like to finish one task before starting another. Not that I can't have many things going simultaneously, but I like things linear. Crossing things off lists. Making a beeline for the destination. When I drive, I don't like to stop except for gas, so do all your business when the tank is empty.

[Semi-amusing recollection - just before my wife and I married, I had accepted a job out of state. So my future mother-in-law came with us as we were doing a housing search. Six hours in the car and this woman wanted to hit every yard sale and rest area that we passed. That's just wrong on a long trip - you need to make progress.]

Anyway, I bring this up because the journey that I am taking toward strength is anything but linear. It's like being able to see where you want to go, there is even a straight path possible, but the path is replete with landmines to navigate and walls that can pop-up out of the ground unexpectedly. Like an episode of Wipeout.

Ever see that show? People spend a lot of time jumping from platform to platform to avoid rotating obstacles, streams of water, and falling into a pool of cold water. When they first see a obstacle they are so focused on their feet and maintaining their balance that they often miss whatever is being swung at them. Balance is the key. Watching where you step.

This is my present struggle on the journey to strength because of course the journey is more complicated than just overcoming my learned passivity. My wife has some crud that she is dealing with. We have improper roles and behaviors that we've learned and taken on. She also struggles with her reaction to male strength after growing up with an abusive father.

Abuse is strength used to demean and take advantage; it is unhealthy and not a true picture of what godly strength looks like. But it is hard for her right now to tell the difference. It all feels the same - which I am sure is why my being passive was the path of least resistance in our relationship. The awful consequence of which is that we both took on roles in our relationship that were opposite our design. I could lead and be respected everywhere but the place it mattered most. Frustration and emasculation for me. She feels like she can not relinquish control out of her fear of trusting her security to someone else. My wife is not able to enjoy the fruits of being a woman in a loving, godly relationship.

So as I try to walk to the goal of being strong in my marriage I have to watch my step and maintain my balance. Not so much worrying about how I might swing the pendulum the other direction and wear stained wife beater t-shirts around the house, slick my hair back, and demand dinner on the table WHEN I ARRIVE HOME! My path butts up against the walls she has built. Occasionally I step on a landmine that I didn't know was there and she struggles to communicate to me.

Recently I stepped on one of these landmines (as I am sure I do often, but we were able to identify this one). Sometimes I tend to be evasive in my answers. My main reason for doing this with my wife is usually about my fear of being inadequate. Several weeks ago I was evasive about why I had not yet fixed the sprinkler system. I felt more than a little stupid because I did not know the problem. Rather than face my fear and tell her I feel like less than a macho man, I told her that it would get done. She perceived this as I was letting things slide and didn't care that something was broken. For me it was fear. For her it was a broken promise and loss of trust.

I've got to balance facing my own fears versus reacting out of hurt. I'm afraid of being a disappointment. I'm afraid of not being loved. I'm afraid that I'm inadequate. If I were to continue living in my fears then I'd always be a passive people-pleaser. That really sums up my journey. Not being bound by fear. Stepping forward. Giving others the opportunity to meet up with my fears and potentially hurt me. Especially my wife. My struggle here, and the balance I have a hard time maintaining is being reactive in my hurt. Either wanting to repay the hurt or run away from it. It is hard to maintain balance when you know something is going to hurt, especially when, because of her own stuff, I don't think my wife understands why I am in pain - my desire to be respected and admired by her.

I've got to balance giving her the space to process her emotional and spiritual scars and heal from them verses making her aware of my feelings and desires for our relationship. It is the balance of not backing off too much and not pressing too hard. This is a process. I don't want us to regress to a place that is more comfortable. The path of least resistance leads back to where we were. In our relationship, it is going to be painful to make improvement. Cleaning out a wound is messy. Resetting a broken bone is painful. But the result is worth it. It takes time and effort. This is where I come up against the walls. My struggle is that I get frustrated and have a tendency to create expectations. It is sometimes hard to see progress when you are in the middle of something, like noticing the growth in your child versus the growth change in a kid you see once a year.

I've got to balance communicating and guiding as a loving husband versus becoming a teacher/counselor or pushing her dad buttons. My wife is going to reject any leadership in which I act as her dad, checking up on her. Since I love to do it for others, I easily fall into the trap of counseling or teaching her. Not providing what she needs, just providing the answers. This too has been a struggle. I am the Hank Haney of relationships; I can diagnose and tell you how to improve yours and all the while miss out of practicing the techniques in my own relationship. My leadership has to be by example. Without expectations. Making my wife my primary ministry. Guiding her through the healing process by going first and talking about what God is doing. Remembering what God is doing and living out of the change.

Maintaining balance is tough. I fall often. But while it is not linear, I am making huge progress. Two steps forward and one step back means that you are a step ahead of where you were. My hope is that soon I will begin to be the man my wife will finally find the joy of being a woman around. Taking down her walls for me and giving her respect and admiration in return. That sounds worth the effort.

You Just Have to Remove Three Screws

One of the evidences that I am getting older is that a number of "in my day" and "remember when" stories have started to creep into my arsenal. This occurred to me yesterday as I was trying to process the events of my late afternoon.

Remember when washing machines were fairly simple? A cylinder that was filled with water spun lazily one way then another and when the water was ready to be emptied the cylinder spun really, really fast to utilize marvelous centrifugal force to get the water out the drain. Pretty straight forward stuff. We had one of those for 12 years and I got to the point that I could diagnose and fix basic mechanical problems like a worn out clutch element.

Someone in the washing machine biz must have realized that this was a problem and billions of dollars in repair bills were being lost, so someone, somewhere in Japan invented the front loading washing machine. We have one. I'll admit, it has more buttons than my laptop, so as a guy I am immediately attracted to this device. Only problem is that it takes a PhD in mechanical engineering to fix - or so I've learned. Now to get the water out there is a complex pump at the bottom of the machine that spits the water against gravity to that drain they put halfway up the wall in all of our houses. Almost like gravity was a challenge to overcome rather than a helpful tool.

To give you a little context, the reason that we have a front loading washing machine is that my wife has OCD - obsessive compulsive disorder. It is a condition that she has developed as a way to order her world; providing comfort and control as a response to relational distress and chaos. OCD can take on many forms but for my wife it is particularly evident in the area of cleanliness and laundry. Before the crisis event in our lives last year, we used to joke about her neatness and laundry habit. Actually, by joking I mean that I deferred my super frustration with how much this meant to her by making jokes. Trying to appear like it didn't matter. Wearing a mask. Yet, inside I was lonely and not understanding why I was last on the list of priorities.

One of the pieces of good that God was able to work in the past year was getting my wife's attention that there was a lot of stuff in her past that she'd not worked through or even addressed and compulsions like the laundry were her way of putting a safe distance between us and also between her and God. She didn't know that. I didn't know that. Problem was that ignorance was not bliss, and my resulting behavior because of my loneliness, rejection and feeling disrespected caused me to play right into her insecurities. Vicious cycle. More of my failings in this area are sure to burst forth in future blogs.

While I now understand what is going on in my wife, that doesn't always make it any easier to respond to. For me that takes constant self talk and thinking through situations in a way that, right now, is unnatural for me. God made me good at relating to people in general, yet this is a stretch. Worth it in every way. Showing my love for her and being other-centered means that I need to make every effort to understand the trial of her world. Because this is still a process that I have to think through in each moment, times of stress become exceptionally hard.

So, I am still processing what I will call the front loading washing machine incident. (Not a catchy title, but effective.) Two days ago the machine stopped running, flashed an error message (told you it was cool!) and locked the front door. Good thing none of us had crawled in there, it self-locked when there was a problem much like the computer HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Thankfully we had purchased the warranty and a repairman would be out the next day. For my wife, here is where the stress starts. A repairman....in the laundry room....is he a smoker?....will he take off his shoes....is he sick?....and many, many more troublesome thoughts. None is this is meant to mock her, this is very real stress. So far, I have done good. Listened with eye contact. Comforted when necessary. Assured that when she wipes the machines down they will be clean again. Probably not a perfect job by me, but it was genuine and I'm improving. She needs to know that I love her no matter what; that she can be secure in my love regardless of whether or not this is how I would choose to react.

Repairman comes while I am visiting a friend in Orlando. Success. New pump. He is a non-smoker. Kept his tools very clean. Picked up. She was happy. I was relieved and hoping that I had built up a little trust in this mini-crisis. To celebrate I listen to the Bellamy Brothers' "Let Your Love Flow" real loud three times in a row on my drive home. Home is where chaos ensues.

Disaster. The new pump leaks. There is water on the floor. Repairman will not come back until approved by the warranty people. But hope flows in from the internet and I'm greeted at the door by "Scott, you just have to remove three screws and we can see what the problem is!" My wife is so beautiful and my heart was warmed that she thought I could do this that I actually checked out the website and said to myself "it is just three screws" and I agreed. Pride strikes again.

Every husband just wants the respect of his wife. This has been a long standing struggle in our marriage. Feeling inadequate sucks and happens to be one of my three fears as a man (in this I'm not unique.) So I squeeze into the laundry room - room being a term I use loosely. Big man in a small space! As I lose feeling in my legs I spy the three screws. But wait, there are a bunch of pipes here as well. No problem to remove those, right? Wrong. Water, water everywhere. With no pump, gravity takes over. I really should have known this. The gush of water and me with a coffee cup trying to catch it all. I am losing. To make matters worse, I gashed the top of my hand directly into a vein. Water everywhere and I am bleeding like a garden hose with a hole in it.



Now all I can hear is my wife hyperventilating. Poor woman. Blood on the washer and dryer. Water soaking into the flooring that now needs to be replaced. Dirty, wet towels everywhere. Nothing will make you feel less adequate that knowing you did this and now your wife is literally hyperventilating because of it. Self talk is now gone and I am reacting out of my hurt. She says "all this mess in my laundry room" and I say "I'm doing the best I can" and on and on and on. It was really much worse a scene that I'm describing, but I am way, way long here.

Her OCD is hard for me to understand. I do understand what it is and why it is there. But I don't necessarily "get" it. It is not a choice for her. Hopefully it will diminish as she works through her issues with God, with me, and some others, but it may not. Either way, what IS a choice is my reaction. My pride was hurt and in that moment I became self-centered. I wanted her to think of me and affirm me. Back to my old patterns and I reacted out of my hurt. Rather than offering compassion and security I probably made her feel like she was defective and a bother. Someone who can only be loved if she performs well or doesn't trouble me. I used to do that a lot. When my expectations weren't met (and they rarely were) I became needy. Reacting out of my hurt. Only offering love when I felt like I got what I needed.


My motivation was not love for my wife, but rather love for myself.


As I've processed the events of yesterday, I do see that stress was the key factor. Because of the added stress of the moment I reverted back. It has felt good to be free of that old behavior, but yesterday was a reminder that it takes constant work. Loving my wife well must become a second nature and that takes time. I am learning, but slowly. Another bit of learning that I've internalized - God doesn't love me less for my failures as a husband (or as a repairman), in fact I think He is pleased with what I'm learning and in becoming the man He designed me to be. It's a process, part of working out my salvation.


Oh, also learned that next time I will wait for the repairman.