The Carol Danvers Statement: A Marvel of Biblical Womanhood

My ten-year-old daughter recently returned from her first overseas church trip. She spent the week in a new culture, trying new foods, and serving the children of friends. Before she left, I gave her a bracelet that reads “Be Brave.” We talked the week before about brave women in the Bible, such as Miriam, Deborah, and Priscilla. We read their stories and learned about how God put them in positions to serve others, gifting them with the courage, strength, and wisdom for the task at hand.

Since she returned last week, our family schedule has prevented me from getting to spend extended time with her and hear about her trip. I decided a daddy-daughter outing was in order.

So, on Monday afternoon, we set out to see Captain Marvel, the latest installment in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), notable for being Marvel Studios’ first superhero film with a female lead.

Naturally, I wondered what message the film would send my daughter about what it means to be a woman. Would Captain Marvel be Elle Woods from Legally Blonde, only with a cape and superpowers? Would Carol Danvers be a snarling feminist, out to erase and flatten all distinctions between men and women? Or would my daughter see a woman who stewards her gifts, strength, and opportunities to help others, to do good, and to inspire those around her?

In the interest of full disclosure, I should note that I am no expert in the MCU or superhero movies by any stretch of the imagination. I entered this film almost entirely ignorant of the Captain Marvel character and her backstory. So, what did I find?

****SPOILER ALERT****

WARNING: The following portions of this article may contain spoilers. Read at your own risk. Continue reading “The Carol Danvers Statement: A Marvel of Biblical Womanhood”

A Letter to My Dad on His 70th Birthday

Dear Dad,

Happy 70th Birthday!

You’ve never been an easy one to buy gifts for—and there’s probably not anything you need that I could buy you anyway. So, I thought my gift to you on your 70th Birthday would be to give public thanks for what a gift you’ve been to me.

As I sat down to outline all that I’ve learned from you, the things appreciate about you, and the memories I most cherish, it didn’t take long to for the list to grow to be quite lengthy. I don’t have space here to mention everything, but here are ten things I’m thankful you showed me in life. Continue reading “A Letter to My Dad on His 70th Birthday”

An Open Letter to Rachael Denhollander on #SBCtoo

Dear Rachael,

This past week, the Houston Chronicle published a three-part series on sexual abuse in the Southern Baptist Convention.

In response, you asked: “Pastors, where were you? When we were pleading for you to speak up against your peers or the leaders your support props up, where were you?”

I want (and need) to answer your question. Continue reading “An Open Letter to Rachael Denhollander on #SBCtoo”

Christmas is for Weeping Mothers

Yesterday, I attended the funeral for our friends’ 16-year-old son. I noticed his mother in the front row, dabbing away her tears. I thought about the tears she would certainly shed on Christmas Eve this year (and in years to come). Then I remembered—Christmas is for weeping mothers. Continue reading “Christmas is for Weeping Mothers”

Seeing Down Both Sides of the Street

Several years ago, I went for a long walk in my wife’s hometown while staying there on vacation. As I looked down the sidewalk, I noticed a well-to-do looking woman walking toward me. As she reached the intersection a block ahead, she crossed the street. Then she continued to walk in the same direction. I assumed she lived on that side of the street. At the end of the block, I glanced back. Once past me, she crossed back to my side of the street and continued on her way.

I wondered for a moment at her action. Why had she crossed the street? There was no mud or broken sidewalk or dogs to avoid. Then it dawned on me—she crossed the street to avoid me.

I wondered at that for a moment. Why did this woman want to avoid me?

Then it hit me.

Continue reading “Seeing Down Both Sides of the Street”