I’ll be honest. I’m not sure I’ll be much of a blogger. Consistency is not my strong suit and I’m incredibly critical of my writing. And is there really anyone who wants to read yet another blog written by a mid-career (that sounds so much better than “middle aged”) Presbyterian pastor? Okay, my mom. Maybe my spouse. My daughter (if I write about the theological profundity of Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana).
Tonight as I write this I’m watching the unimaginable – a black man and a woman seeking the nomination to be president. I remember being told I could be anything when I grew up (except a firefighter, but that is another story!) but I never had this image ingrained in my psyche. What does it mean for my daughter to watch a woman run for president as if it was the most natural thing in the world? What does it mean that she reads a story about Jesus and comes across the words “peace be with you” and says, “mommy, you say that!”
Oh believe me, I know sexism is still alive and oh, how I wish it was different (it really does cut to the core, doesn’t it?). But tonight, I’m thankful for history
