On Ramadan and Friendship

I am exhausted.  This past week has been interesting to say the least.  I won't go into detail here, but ask me about one or more of these things sometime:

-Wednesday: a young man dressed as Link from The Legend of Zelda came into the pharmacy, asked some strange questions, and then stole items from the store.
-Thursday: I witnessed my first serious medicaI error and was on the scene at a minor medical emergency.
-Saturday/Sunday: met a classmate and future colleague at a first aid training course.

Now I am watching Bar Rescue (my favourite television program) and taking some time to relax before heading back to work tomorrow afternoon.  Three more weeks.  I can do this.

So, Ramadan is going on right now.  For anyone who isn't familiar with what Ramadan is about, it is a 29-30 day period of fasting observed by Muslims in which no food or drink is consumed during daylight hours.  But it is more than fasting, as I learned this week.  It is a time of prayer, community, thanksgiving, and generosity.  I was totally blessed this week by one of my Ramadan-practicing coworkers.  He and I worked the night shift together last Monday.  When the sun went down and he could finally partake of his one meal for the day, he invited me to sit with him and proceeded to share his meal with me.  We talked about our beliefs, about our desire to be people of compassion and of generosity, and about God and Allah.  We talked about the Qur'an and the Bible and the Torah and about how a true vibrant faith transcends the text and is inspired and moved by God.  I left the conversation feeling glad for the opportunity to discuss matters of faith and spirituality and feeling humbled by my coworker's generosity toward me.

Today marks the start of week twelve in YQR for this girl.  At the beginning of the summer I was sad about having to leave Saskatoon for 4 months.  However, I now know exactly why I was brought here at this time.  I am astounded by the grace of God and the way in which He is protecting my heart.  And the way in which He knows me.

"The secret friendship of the Lord is with them that fear him" (Psalm 25:14, RV).  Or, "The Lord confides in those who fear him; he makes his covenant known to them (Psalm 25:14, NIV).  It is amazing to me that the same God that is in control of the entire universe would take those who fear Him into his confidence, as friends.  As Oswald Chambers writes, the sign of a friend is not "that he tells you secret sorrows," but "that he tells you secret joys."

I want to catch the secret joys of the Lord.  My desire is to be so wedded to Christ's idea of prayer (Thy will be done) that I am sensitive to His voice.  "The things that make God dear to us are not so much his great big blessings as the tiny things, because they show his amazing intimacy with us; he knows every detail of our individual lives."

To my friends who have shared secret joys with me: I thank you and I treasure you.  I hold you very close to my heart.  I hope you hold me close to your heart, too, because I long to share my secret joys with you.

Besides feeling immensely tired, I also feel happy.  Leave it up to a quiet night and a pretty new peplum top to find me feeling like a new woman.

Happy Sunday,

E.

On Five and Feminism

Hi!

In just over four weeks, I will be returning home.  Five weeks from today is my first day as a medical student.  I am trying to accept the fact that summer is almost over even though it feels like it just began.  Five weeks.  Thirty-five days.

I am still having a difficult time wrapping my head around seeing my dreams unfold.  Every once and a while it occurs to me that I am going to be what I have been longing to be.  I feel excited and scared.  I feel a lot of other things too, but I am not sure how to put those feelings into words.  The feeling I have takes me back to being at the sea in Castlerock, Northern Ireland.  When I close my eyes I can see myself standing there, breathing in the cool mist of the seashore and letting the gentle scent of saltwater wrap itself around me.  I remember how I felt so far away from home yet entirely at home at the same time.  That is where I find myself now.

I have read quite a few books already this summer.  One that stands out as noteworthy to me is Wendy Shalit's A Return to Modesty: Discovering the Lost Virtue.  I stumbled upon Shalit's writings around Christmastime when I was browsing the feminism stacks at the university.  She is thought provoking, satirical, and funny.  While I do not agree with everything she writes about, much of what is written in A Return was relevant to me.  In short, the book discusses how our culture has shifted from one in which a woman was to be ashamed of her sexual experience to one in which a woman should be ashamed of her sexual inexperience.  Feminism's demand that women be seen as equals to men has resulted in young women being pressured to overcome their hang-ups--in particular, their hope for romance.

Feminism is meant to empower women but it has done the opposite on so many occasions.  Of course I am glad that as a woman I can choose and advocate for myself.  I can buy a house or a car.  I can be a doctor.  I can wear whatever I want because this is my body and no one else's.  Or can I?

Sometimes I catch myself thinking that it would somehow be wrong or shameful of me to let myself fall in love or to be romanced.  I have to admit that when I hear my girl friends talk about just wanting to get married, have kids, and be stay-at-home moms there is a part of me that does not respect them for wishing such things.  And I know that's wrong and that I should not put a "just" in front of it.  But I have this feeling that since I can be an independent woman that I should be.  I will have my own career, my own house, my own car (or bicycle), and my own life--and I will be happy on my own because I can be.  Or will I?

Women have equality with men, but not equity.  And I think what most women want is equity.  To be honest, as a single woman I am tired of the demands that society places on me to not only be my own wo man, but to be my own man.  In a culture where respect for female modesty has nearly been completely lost I find it difficult to not have to look out for myself in this way.  At this point I must be my own protector and my own provider because men who do not acknowledge or care about female modesty will not be gentlemen.

I am not just talking about dress (i.e. is my skirt too short; is my blouse too sheer?...) but about everything within a woman's character that is naturally modest and becoming.  The stuff that is so wonderful about being a girl that I have sometimes felt forced to suppress.

What I want--and I think many other women would want, too--is for the right to be a woman and to be treated as a woman.  Not necessarily as one "equal" to a man but as one "equitable" to him--complementary to him and vice versa.  We want to know that the desires we have for romance are good and that we need not suppress them, even if first we want to be doctors or lawyers or whatever.

So men: let us be ladies.  And be gentlemen to us.  We are longing to give you that kind of respect in return.

Pardon my rant.  This is more than enough about fourth-wave feminism for one night.

I am looking forward to seeing you Saskatonians in five.  If you think of me, let me know.  I am always up for a call or a skype.  I am thinking of you often and praying big prayers for you (Ephesians 3:14-21 style prayers).

Here's to believing that romance is not dead.

Cheers,

E.