The Struggle for Equality

It's not what you think it is

We live in a world with very blatant inequality.  I'm not disputing that.  Statistically women get paid less than their male counterparts for doing the same exact job.  And they pay more for similar products or services than men.  Ethnicities are treated better or harsher. Politics, sexuality, education level, finances...rampant inequality.  And I acknowledge that it's happening. But that's not where I'm going with this post.

Often when we think of equality, we think of "sameness."  If I'm a factory worker and work on the assembly line with 15 years of experience, I want the same pay as the guy next me doing the same exact task with the same 15 years of experience.  If two people with the same education and experience are up for a job, skin color or accent shouldn't make a difference in qualifications. That would make sense.  But the equality that we find in our daily lives tends to be a bit more gray.

And I'm going to challenge you:  what you're looking for isn't equality.  It's fairness.

When you go shopping, do you want "sameness?"  All the shirts are the same color, same size, same brand?  Do you hope for every car in the parking lot to look just like yours?  Do you buy the first house you see because you fully expect every other house for sale is exactly like this one?  NO!!!

What you want is that a small sized shirt will cost the same as the medium one.  You want a car that represents your personality and needs that is competitive in price with other similar options.  You want a home that will provide space for your family while also fitting your budget.  Fairness, not equality.

What about gift giving holidays for your children?  Do you choose fairness or equality?  What's the difference?

Equality says "I have three kids and they need to have the same number of gifts."  What you may or may not do is then spend the same amount of money on them as well.  In which case, you'll be hard pressed to get the same amount of gifts for the same amount of money if your kids are 3yo, 8yo, and 15yo.  Good luck!

Fairness says "I have three kids and I will spend the same amount of money on each one."  One year our teenager wanted a bass guitar.  We told him that would use up his entire gift budget.  He didn't care.  He was ok having only one gift.  Later his sister had the same budget. But she was interested in different things and so her money went into several gifts.  Should we have been equal and gotten her a bass guitar?  No way!  But we were fair and spent the same amount of money on each of them, even though the quantity and quality of the gifts was not equal.

Here's another example of equality gone awry.  Many years (decades) ago, I had just moved out and gone away to college.  There was a popular song that came out and the chorus was about a letter a mother had given her daughter, encouraging her to always call home.  "Here's a penny for your thoughts and a quarter for the call."  It always reminded me of my own mom, who I would call often.  One day I mentioned the song to her and how it always made me think of her.  For Christmas that year (long before we stopped celebrating), my mom had printed those lyrics and taped a penny and a quarter to the paper in place of the words and framed it to give to me.  I loved it!  It was the most special gift.  I treasured that $0.26 framed song and put it on my desk.  During a visit home sometime later, I went into my sister's room - and saw a frame that was identical to mine.  I asked her where she got it.  "Oh, Mom gave it to me.  She says it's from a song, but I've never heard of it."  I was heartbroken.  What was something special between me and my mother was no longer special because my mom had given the same exact gift to my sister.  And my sister had no reference to truly appreciate the gift that now meant nothing to me.  In my mother's eagerness to be "fair," she chose to be equal.

We, as humans, aren't looking for equality.  In fact, we crave not being treated the same in many, many ways. We don't want cookie cutter treatment from others.  We want genuine uniqueness.

I do not take my daughter to my son's favorite restaurant.

I do not make my son my husband's favorite meal.

I do not buy my sister a sweater in my mother's favorite color.

I do not want my husband to give my best friend the same attention that he gives me.

And I do not want God to answer my prayers in the same way He is answering someone else's.

Read that last one again.

What if God was as equal as we say we want Him to be?  What if He responded to your need the same way He responded to my need?  You need a job and I need healing and we both got a friend who brought us a casserole.  Yeah, that doesn't help either of us.

Our needs aren't the same! And that's the whole point of this topic.  

We often think that God isn't being "fair" when what He's actually doing is not being equal.  I don't want Him to interact with me in a way I don't need.  I don't want Him to respond to me as if I'm someone else.  I want Him to know me and to meet my needs as best He knows how.  That's the beauty  of fairness - being in relationship with someone and knowing their likes and dislikes and favorite things and allergies and needs and desires and then being able to interact with them with that knowledge and build them up by treating them as the special person that they are, rather than treating like everyone else and no one is special.

So let me reiterate again:  I am not discussing the inequality of some human beings being treated better over other human beings.  I do not condone any lessor treatment of any person for any reason.  What I am pointing out is that in our cry for equality, we forget what we're asking for from a personal and intimate perspective.  We should all be striving more for fairness in our relationships rather than spending our time and resources on making everything equal.  

And perhaps we should change our perspective to look for the things that are in our lives pointing to fairness and known-ness.

*They know how I like my coffee and brought me a cup that's perfect.

*They know my favorite flower and painted me a picture of a bouquet.

*They know I don't like that restaurant even though it's their favorite and chose to go somewhere we'd both enjoy.

*They know I'm struggling with this class and offered to help me.

*They know that I am in need of a babysitter and came over to stay with my kids.

What is actually happening is that you are being LOVED by not being treated equally.  By knowing you and your life, you are being treated fairly and with great care.  It's a beautiful thing.

The Mirror and The Scale

How I hate you

The mirror - This flat two-dimensional surface that reflects whatever is in front of it. Where I look multiple times a day. Where I see every flaw. The tiny hairs to pluck. The blemishes that never went away after puberty. The double chin. The hair that does nothing. The curves that aren’t flattering. Stretch marks decades old. Pale skin that will never hold a tan.  In my eyes I can see the disappointment in myself. I can see my lack of self-control. I can see all the ways I’m not the woman I wish I was. The woman the world wishes I was.

The scale - This hidden device is pulled out for only one reason: to measure me against the norm. To show me the number that goes up even when I try to do right. The number that determines the number on my clothes. The number that tells me I’m too much, and therefore not enough. The weight in my heart is heavier than the weight on the scale. 

No two items have ever caused more damage to an individual on a daily basis. And even if the scale can be avoided, the mirror more than makes up for it - using your car windows, computer screen, and reverse camera to catch you off guard and keep you discouraged over and over throughout the day. Every day.

I hate these two items more than any others. And they hate me. They are not kind, but brutally honest. There is no compliment before ruining my day. Any attempt at recovering from their judgement is futile most days.

So I struggle. I struggle to break the cycle with negative self-talk. I struggle with self-love. I struggle to face the day when I see what others will see as soon as I leave this room.

But the mirror doesn’t reflect everything. It can’t reflect the smiles exchanged with others. It doesn’t record all the kisses from my husband. It never plays back all the laughter. It doesn’t keep a record of hugs from my children. It cannot show the prayers I pray for others. 

And the scale cannot measure everything. It cannot know the number of my IQ or bank account or credit score. It does not measure the depth of my relationships or the distance I’d go for my loved ones. It was not designed to weigh the burdens of a mother’s love or a wife’s faithfulness. 

These two items can only do one thing each - report what’s visible on the outside. They show so little of what makes up a person. They may show a beautiful body, but cannot indicate a person’s character, education level, work ethic, talents, loyalties, prejudices, morals, or beliefs. 

The most important things that make up a person are unable to be measured by these two devices. And yet we live by them daily, accepting their information as weighing more than all the other things that make us unique and special and valuable. As if the size of our waist is more important than how we treat others. As if the thinning hair or crooked teeth make us less attractive than the words we throw at others on social media. 

I don’t know how to break the cycle for me. I do know that reminding myself of my other attributes is imperative if I am to find my smile in my reflection. What I am on the outside is NOT the sum of who I am as a person. Who you are on the outside is NOT the sum of who you are as a person. 

One of my favorite movies is Shallow Hal. I wish society would take more time to invest in the inner qualities and reward those than to make others feel worthy and worthless for differing levels of attractiveness. The mental health of average people is suffering. And the ego of above average people is staggering. There's also a song by Barlow Girl called Mirror.  One of the lyrics is "you don't define me."  And that's where I'm making my stand.

 

The image in the mirror is not my beginning and end.

 

The number on the scale is not my beginning and end.

 

I am more than these two devices.  And so are you.

"It Must Be Nice"

You have no idea, but I know what you mean

“It must be nice to not work.”

“It must be nice to have insurance pay for that.”

“It must be nice to be rich.”

“It must be nice to be retired.”

“It must be nice to have no kids in the house.”

“It must be nice to have a good husband.”

These are all things I’ve had said to me multiple times in my life. I don’t know why people feel the need to express their thoughts (envy? bitterness?) in this way. I wish they’d stop. But more than that, I wish they knew how wrong they are. I'm not often this confrontational in my writing, but I really think this is something that needs to be addressed.

“It must be nice to not work.” I don’t work because a disability and a broken system prevent me from working. I’ve had years of pain and lost mobility and surgeries in my future. You have no idea I have crawled across the floor because it hurt too much to walk.  I have been unable to pick up my newborn because my hands were too weak to hold her safely. I have used a shopping cart as a walker. I’ve been told I’m faking it. I’ve had a doctor tell me if I need a handicap placard that badly, then I should just get joint replacements instead of a piece of plastic for my car. You think I don’t want to work? Share my ideas? Be a part of a team? Be given accolades and promotions for my successes? You think it’s fun to have talents and have no outlet to use them? But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to have insurance pay for that.” My insurance helps to pay for very expensive medicine that makes it possible for me to live a life that looks as “normal” as possible. You have no idea it allows me to not be in a wheelchair. It allows me to drive. It allows me to do mundane chores instead of hiring someone to help. And it costs us money every month to pay for that insurance. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to be rich.” I’m not sure what the definition of “rich” is, but apparently we’ve arrived. And I laugh at this the most because it’s not even close to the truth. We raised seven kids. We paid child support for years. We spent years counting pennies. Our kids didn’t get family vacations. They didn’t get a car when they turned 16. There were no college funds for them. You have no idea we instead spent five years figuring it out so my husband could finish his degrees. We moved a lot for job opportunities. We paid off debt. We said “no” to fun and “yes” to responsibly. We sold things to have money to pay for kids’ gifts and field trips and yearbooks. And now those kids are raised and we have an even tighter budget. But because we have some nice things, we’re rich? Few people saw the struggles. They only see today. It took sacrifice to get here. We aren’t rich. We’re trying to be smart. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to be retired.” My husband is ten years older than me. So I’m reaping the benefits of retirement life sooner than some of my peers. But it’s not without its own consequences. You have no idea that our income changed dramatically. We had to make decisions for twenty and thirty years from now and hope we’re choosing correctly. We had to find a new routine. We had to adjust to all of our time being together. It is nice to be retired. And it can be boring and lonely and annoying. But yeah, I know what you mean. 

“It must be nice to have no kids in the house.” Our kids. This is such a complex, loaded, emotional topic. When they’re little and you’re sleep deprived and they’re sick all the time and you don’t know if they’ll need therapy after all the mistakes you think you're making on a daily basis...you can’t wait for them to be grown. And teenagers are a test for sure. But what people don’t know is that there were years of having more kids than bedrooms. There were more birthdays than budget. There were more mouths than groceries. You have no idea we had years of distance as some of them needed space to work through their own experiences. We haven’t had all seven kids in the same place for almost fifteen years. So while I enjoy the relationships I have with my adult children - and it’s nice to have time alone just me and my husband - I long for the days when we were all under one roof. When we could drive each other crazy and still smile at sleeping heads before doing it all again the next day. I’d love a Thanksgiving with every one of my children around the table. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to have a good husband.” I’ll tell you, it’s not nice having a good husband. It’s AMAZING!!! But the people who say this to me don’t know the pain I went through to get him. The lies, the infidelity, the refusal to work, the rejection of my small children, the anger, the harassment. You want a good husband my way? You have no idea what I went through! You’ll need to leave with nothing and live in low income housing. You’ll need to get food stamps. You’ll need to have no car for months. You’ll have to have a very limited support group in a small town with few resources. You’ll need to go to court over and over and over to prove lies against you have no merit. And you’ll have to explain to your children why the man who created them wants nothing to do with them. It was NOT nice going through those years. But yeah, I know what you mean. 

What you mean is “It’s not fair that I see you having/doing/being whatever I feel is missing in my life.” 

What you mean is “I want to make you feel guilty for what you have and where you are.”

What you mean is “It never occurred to me that you have a story of pain and struggle that might make me think differently if I cared enough to ask and listen instead of put my fear of failure onto you.”

I don’t owe anyone an explanation of my life. And yet I feel obligated to explain when people make these flippant remarks about my life. I feel obligated because I have tried to use every bit of my life to not only encourage others, but to also show them that I can relate because I have been there. I do not gloat in my material possessions. I glory in my journey. The Lord walked with me through every one of my difficulties and used them to grow my faith in Him. And He grew my compassion. My perspective. My ability to look for the silver lining. Nothing I’ve gone through has been wasted.

But what strikes me the most is that many of these statements come from people who have not experienced going hungry or getting divorced or having estranged children or learning to live with a disability. How sad is it to make a comment that can cut so deep with no depth of awareness. 

“It must be nice to be employed.”

“It must be nice to be healthy.”

“It must be nice to have everything you need.”

“It must be nice to have the same job for forty years.”

“It must be nice to have your children nearby.”

“It must be nice to never have been divorced.”

These are things I’ve never said. Never once in all of my lack did I ever look at others and think that what they had was undeserved just because I didn’t have the same. The two are not connected. 

I’m sure some people say it and never give it another thought. There was no intended malice. But the damage is done nonetheless. So if you’re reading this and you’ve made a comment like this, stop it. It’s judgmental and trite and unnecessary. Instead, be excited for them. Ask them their story. Listen more and keep score less.

If you’re in a season (or two) of doing without, I want you to know you aren’t alone. There are things that can be growing you now if you’ll let them. Your compassion, your perseverance, your faith: things that cannot be measured by the world’s standard of riches. In those dark moments, do not forget to look for the silver lining.

 

“I have a place to sleep.”

“My kids are healthy.”

“I’m safe.”

“I have a friend.”

“I have Jesus.”

These are things I have had to tell myself.  I had many times I would remind myself of the good I had even in the midst of my circumstances. Even if it’s only one thing, I promise you have something good right now.

Don't be ashamed of where you are. In the struggle or on the other side, you own it. You keep working toward improving yourself and your situation. Do not let anyone guilt you for successes, big or small. We need more people like us who can overcome and see the world through a lens of gratitude instead of envy.

Wives

...I’m talking to you

Let me tell you a story.

Eight years ago, I was trying to sell a house. My husband had already moved three states away to start the new job that was an answer to prayer. We were geographically separated, and it was a very stressful time in every area of our lives. But the biggest stress was financial.

Our realtor suggested we install new carpet. She said it would be the key to getting an offer. My suggestion was to offer a flooring allowance so the buyer could pick what they wanted. But after two months of little interest, the realtor re-suggested that we install the carpet ourselves. 

I did not like that solution. I was supposed to be saving money, not adding debt. There was no guarantee we’d recuperate the cost of new carpet in the sale of the house. I’d have to pay extra to install around the current furniture (versus a buyer having flooring laid before they moved in). What if a buyer didn’t want carpet? What if they walked away because they wanted hardwood? What if they pulled up what I just paid for to install hardwood?! No, this was a bad idea. We needed to stay the course and wait for a buyer to be interested in the flooring allowance.

A friend asked me how the sale of the house was going. I told her about the realtor’s suggestion and all about my stress and frustration and reasons why it wouldn’t work. Then she said, “What does your husband think y’all should do?” And I said, “HA! He wants me to replace the carpet!” It was a very exhausted, sarcastic, flippant end to the conversation.

But the Holy Spirit had just let a friend spiritually smack me in the head. Because what I realized within a couple hours of that discussion was that I’d been ignoring my husband. I’d been spending all of my energy and thoughts and prayers to go against what my husband had been telling me to do. And I had to repent. To the Lord, and to my husband. 

I have an amazing husband. He forgave me and said he knew I was trying so hard to be a good steward of our finances. He knew my heart was in the right place to want to avoid new debt. But he truly felt that new carpet was the right choice, and he didn’t know how to get me to agree with him. Well, problem solved. 

We replaced the carpet. Within a week, we had an offer. A full price offer. And the buyer’s three year old little boy did somersaults all over our (their) new carpet because he’d never lived in a house with carpet before. Cue the tears! 

So wives: what does your husband think y’all should do? You need to be listening to him. 

I’m not talking about “my husband thinks we should rob a bank.” I don’t mean “my husband wants to buy a new car, but we can’t pay our rent/mortgage.” 

I’m referring to the conversations you two are having about what to do with your lives and your family and your bank account and your dreams. When you know both of you are praying, but you’re still not on the same page with your ideas. 

I’m talking about letting go of your own solutions and letting your husband lead.

I was in rebellion about installing new carpet. I didn’t mean to be. I thought I was doing the right thing. But the more I fought, the more stressed we were. As soon as I accepted my husband’s decision - and the reality of adding more debt - there was a huge burden lifted off my shoulders. In my eyes, there was no way spending $5000 would bring me relief. But it did. Because my realtor, my husband, and God all knew that if we’d change that carpet, the house (our major stress factor) would sell. I was the one refusing to listen.

Where are you not listening? Is there an area in your life where people you love and trust are telling you to take a risk, but you’re digging your heels in? Are you too busy coming up with legitimate excuses that you don’t hear the Father encouraging you to trust Him?

I am so thankful for the friend who only asked me one question: what does your husband think y’all should do? She changed everything in an instant.

Sometimes our husbands are wrong. Sometimes they lead us and we have a hard time following because we know they’re wrong. I have one of those stories too. But the beauty of my life is that ultimately, my faith isn’t in my husband. It’s in Yeshua Jesus. Even when my husband leads us down a road we shouldn’t have taken, the Lord brings us through. He brings peace and blessings from the mistakes. Even when I rebel against Him and my husband, Christ brings correction and strengthens bonds through forgiveness. 

Wives, I know submission scriptures have been abused by some churches and some husbands. But that is not the truth of the word. To submit to your husband takes the responsibility off of you and onto him. And the burden on your husband is not light. Your husband answers to the Lord for your sake. A wife who can respect her husband’s decision and encourage him and walk beside him through that decision has pleased the Lord. There is blessing in that posture! I encourage you to pray about whatever area is troubling you right now and seek your godly husband’s advice: 

“What do you think we should do?”