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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

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