Feather Weight

  “Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness. For shoes, put on the readiness to preach the Good News of peace with God.” Eph 6:14-15

 

  The time for using the painted woman isn’t over but some changes have been made. The dragon’s teeth are smaller, its colour faded in places, the outline not so bold.

  I pray God will guide me so that all that’s painted is the space around where it was. Hear my prayer, O God that the woman’s tear will no longer be part of the picture and her womb, her innermost self, bears only beautiful things.

  After yesterday’s post, I spent some time outside replacing a crucial, GFI electrical outlet that had quit working last fall. It’s needed to power the ornamental pond pump and my lawn mower. Some neglected housework got taken care of, too, until the idea for this painting emerged clearly in my mind.

  That’s a process, too.

  I got thinking about how sexism and gender roles are like feathers. They float down and settle on our souls. One, on its own, doesn’t weigh anything.

  “How much does a ton of feathers weigh?” A mind bending question we used to ask each other as children.

  There wasn’t enough room in the woman’s womb for a ton of feathers. That’s where the boot comes in.

  I am not proud to admit owning a feathered pair of my own.  It isn’t surprising. None of us knows anything more than what we learn until we learn differently.

  The feathers on my boots mark each time I held a woman in contempt because she was fearful of changing an outlet or using a hammer. They also mark each time I sneered at women whose lives involve a passion for fashion and make-up. The human objectifying beauty scale is the darkest feather on my boots. There is a feather with, “Blond jokes” etched into its’ shaft…

  Heck, let’s put this in here, too…many feathers are the disparaging and sexist comments made about men; especially the ones who were softer, gentler, and less “manly”…

  I confess before God and you, dear readers, these boots weigh a ton.

  God, forgive me. Let the only feathers I lay on others be the ones from Your wings that don’t weigh anything at all.

  The boot soles are made of judgment. (I didn’t know that until this moment.) Without a sole, the boots could not be worn. The ones on my pair look like 1960’s platforms made up of layer upon layer of thick leather.

  Lord, help me learn the difference between judgment and discernment.

  It is time to get rid of these ton-weighing boots because they are incredibly out of fashion for a follower of Jesus, so waaaaay last season! They don’t fit in with my soul’s new, makeover wardrobe anyways.

 

  I watched a home reno show last night. The family had a little boy and a little girl. The boy’s room was decorated in rich colours and adorned with super-hero stuff. The film crew had installed a bright, plastic barrier over the door. They urged him to use his super-powers to break through and see his room.

  The little girl only had to open her door. Her room was decorated in a pastel, dusty pink with flower decals on the wall. As she sat on her bed, she didn’t look very happy with the new décor. It was nowhere near as fun as her brother’s…but she was, after all, a girl. All little girls love pink. Besides, why would a girl want to imagine she, just like her big brother, had super-powers anyways? She’ll never need them.

  It made me so sad to recognize feathers everywhere are still churning out one ton boots with ten inch platform soles. It makes even me sadder to realize the boots actually weigh megatons times ten hundred million thousand pounds.