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Friday, September 12, 2025

Come Now, Let us Reason Together: Thoughts on the Assassination of Charlie Kirk

An Ordinary Day…

I was having a bit of a spa day. Something I never do, but it sort of evolved. Sitting in my car outside the nail salon, I was pondering whether I might have better luck with the hairdresser than I had had with my pedicure.

I had created quite the ruckus in the place by making a few simple requests. It became a problem that I didn’t want the foot bath (someone I knew had unrelenting athlete’s foot and those tubs skeeve me) but I did want a clean looking towel. Then, apparently, I chose the wrong color for my particular toenails, and the nail stylist seemed like it would really break her heart if I went with the muted mauve. Reluctant to cause any more static, I acquiesced to her choice for me.  

Turns out frosted peach toenails make my bulbous big toes look even more like mini wieners than they usually do. Who knew?

I was sure the nails were more than dry when I slipped off the crazy excuses for flip flops they give you and slid back into my sandals. Mistake number two was not making this transfer of foot apparel while still inside the salon. If the polish had smeared while I was still inside, I more than likely would have had them retouch it. But to reenter after all the fuss and feathers – I just didn’t have it in me.

I opted instead to make plans with my daughter-in-law to go to an early dinner. Our plan was to meet at Bertucci’s after she did a few things and I got my hair cut.

Let’s just say the service at Hair Cuttery far outweighed its counterpart in the nail business. The stylist chatted amiably and it seemed we had many of the same values. Always nice to find a like-minded thinker. The jury’s still out on the cut itself, but two out of three ain’t bad.

Turns Extraordinary

Then I saw the news alert. Charlie Kirk had been gunned down. My first thought was, ridiculously, he won’t be hurt any worse than Trump was in Butler. It didn’t even cross my mind that he wouldn’t survive. I immediately mobilized my prayer teams and did my own part while waiting for my DIL to arrive.

She was running late, so I gobbled up the news channels. Rich Zeoli seemed positively sedate. I’ve never heard that guy on slow, let alone subdued. It was like all the stuffing was knocked out of him. The guest he had on sounded about to break down at any moment.

What influencer in his right mind who holds Kirk’s positions isn’t upping his life insurance and beefing up his home security system in the wake of this murder?

The question is, though – where will we land?

Not just the guys in Charlie Kirk’s league, the ones with the most visibility and the most to lose. Where will the days ahead find those of us who get up every morning only to punch in at work or, like the students this fallen icon loved, show up for class? Will we continue to shake our heads and close our mouths when ideologies are forced upon us that we don’t believe in? Will we commiserate with like-minded friends with whom we feel safe, only to keep silent when the winds are against us?

Will we join with the voices that will blame this horror on the gun that ended Kirk’s life, even though he would be the first - still - to defend laws that allow Americans to defend themselves?

Kirk would never have supported giving madmen guns, but he did believe in trying to reason with his opponents in the spirit of Isaiah 1. His philosophy was simple: if you let people speak, then dialogue with them, maybe you can come closer to agreement. If you find points of agreement, minds can be shaped without bludgeoning your opponent into submission. In other words, if people can be helped to see common sense based on morality and decency, rather than terrorized out of sharing a dissenting opinion, maybe – just maybe – we can all play in the sandbox safely.

With or without guns.

I’m not going to take the Second Amendment any farther, nor am I prepared to offer an argument any more robust than that. I will say, however, that in this unprecedented era of school shootings during which I worked as an educator for 23 years, I did wonder many a time whether or not I’d be coming home at the end of the day. And you know what? It would have given me peace of mind if I had been aware of any levelheaded, armed professionals on the premises, should our safety have been threatened by outside agents who maybe weren’t so levelheaded or concerned with silly things like following the law.

More than any public figure I can think of at the moment, this gentleman - this gentle man - allowed opposing voices the time and courtesy he felt they deserved. I’ve watched reels in which he hushed his own supporters to allow spouters of views he held abhorrent the chance to speak.

So they could reason together.

Let that sink in, America.

A Time to Reason

I’ve recently begun dipping my peach painted toes into some online debates. Not because I enjoy the experience. My parents didn’t raise a combative daughter. My nature is to go along to get along. I didn’t shrink from getting into it with my kids when I was raising them (in fact, whatever poor excuse for parleying skills I have, I owe to those two loophole finders). But sit me in a meeting where I’m the lone voice and I become laryngitic.

But I’m coming to realize there’s a real danger in playing it safe. Safe only goes so far. As far, actually, as it takes to lock ourselves into our own homes with our own opinions and let’s just keep them out of the public square, shall we?

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

Reuters claims the authorship of this quote is in question, so I’ll leave it unattributed, but with deep appreciation for the wisdom it conveys.

Charlie Kirk understood this. I’m sure he held a large life insurance policy (if anyone would insure him). He hired bodyguards. He wasn’t looking to get poached like a game bird, but he was willing. Both he and his wife must have been well aware of the peril-laden plateaus he embarked on each time they kissed goodbye.

The thing is, they counted the cost and found it reasonable.

He was, after all, first and foremost a man of reason.

“Come, let us reason together,” implores our Lord. Can his creation do any less?

So, let’s reason together about what happened on Wednesday. While resisting the urge to paint Charlie Kirk as a savior – I’m sure his family and those who knew him best could disavow us of any such notion – I don’t think it’s a stretch to state that this man represented the interests of both sides of the political aisle. Those who appreciated his message and those who didn’t. If that were not the case, why would he have spent so much precious time that he could’ve had with loved ones trying to reason with dissenters? To try to win rather than silence them?

I want to follow in God and Kirk’s footsteps in this regard, and I’ll start with the pain I saw on the face of my left-leaning friend the morning after the assassination. I could imagine her thoughts while listening to me share my grief about the loss of this conservative icon. “What of the brutality done to individuals from the Democratic party?” her eyes seemed to lament. “Shouldn’t their wounds, some of them fatal, hold just as much relevance as those of a man honored by your side?”

My response is threefold. First, while I shrink at references to sides and camps and for a second even tried to find alternative words, I chose in the end to call spades spades. Every war has sides and we are most definitely in a culture war that seems to be advancing us ever closer to a wasteland. I can’t in intellectual honesty deny the existence of partisan lines, but one thing I will try to do is avoid an “us versus them” mentality. “We” are all part of the human race, made in God’s image, and I will not deny someone’s humanity regardless of how repellent I may find his or her beliefs.

Second, at least in my book and my dealings, those from the opposite camp who were injured or killed for their political beliefs won’t go unremembered. Rep. Gabby Giffords, Rep. Melissa and Mark Hortman, Rep. John and Yvette Hoffman, the horrors that happened to you matter just as much to me as does this latest episode of violence against someone with whom I’m more politically aligned. Last time I checked, you all spilled the same color blood as that of my fallen hero. I will neither forget nor diminish your tragedies, and I ask the same of you.

Third and finally, I will dare to pray and hope we are entering the turning point Charlie Kirk stood for.

God rest his soul. God comfort his family. God bless America.

Sunday, September 7, 2025

Problems

 

Problems. We've all got them. They vary in size and intensity, severity and impact. 

I'm not sure where I got the idea that I wasn't supposed to have problems, but somewhere along the way that notion made its way into my head, and it created, well, problems.

For instance, when one's philosophy is that everything ought to go swimmingly and then it doesn't – well, that's a problem. 

Furthermore, when one deems every problem that comes one’s way a disaster and blows it all out of proportion – a philosophy I also internalized early – well, here again, we have a problem.

My preferred way of handling problems used to be running from them. Literally walking away from people or situations that caused angst. Door slammed, locked and bolted – at least until the other person cried “uncle”, which was far from guaranteed.

When I couldn’t get away with that strategy, I tried making nice. People-pleasing. Fawning. That often resulted in loss of respect and the opposite of the desired result.

Then there was the “lean waaaaay into the problem and let it overtake every thought” modus operandi. Any happy thought was immediately banished in favor of brooding over THE PROBLEM.

At the ripe, young age of 62, I’m learning there are better ways to handle problems.

First of all, to borrow a phrase from Charles Stanley, I need to update my thinking. Instead of “why me?” my mantra is ever so gradually becoming “why not me?” What makes me think I’m exempt from unfairness from people, places, or things? For that matter, how do I know the “unfairness” isn’t a heavenly nudge meant to grow me?

I’m rereading a book called Thank You for Being Such a Pain. The premise is that life doesn’t just “happen” to us; rather, things arise to teach us something. It’s especially helpful to pay attention when we find ourselves encountering similar situations/people over and over again. Where there are patterns, there are usually reasons for those patterns. Quick disclaimer: the author, who has a delightful, readable style, tends to attribute causes for said patterns to “the universe.” As a Christian, I can’t ascribe events to an unintelligent, created universe. After all, the universe didn’t just happen, did it? Even if one believes in the Big Bang, who or what set off the bang? For every effect there is necessarily a cause, and to me it makes much more sense to believe in an intelligent being who created all the intelligence with which we are blessed. (For more on this topic, see Gregory Koukl’s Street Smarts.)

Now that I’ve gotten totally sidetracked, let me return to the topic at hand. Since I’ve improved in the areas of running away and people-pleasing, the M.O. I’m currently trying to kick to the curb is obsessing over the problem to the exclusion of other aspects of my life.

First of all, that isn’t Biblical. Second Corinthians 10:4-5 says, “ For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ…”

Paul couldn’t be more clear here. He wants us to view EVERYTHING through the lens of what the Lord is trying to teach us.

So much for ingesting my problems, chewing them up endlessly without spitting them out (perish the thought! That might lead to peace of mind and we can’t have that). So much for centralizing the problem, making it the focus of my life, spending every waking minute pondering solutions and possible approaches to tackle whatever boogie man is currently stealing my attention.

Land sakes, the Bible offers scads of advice about how and where to exercise the mind, and I have yet to find one that suggests dwelling endlessly on something outside my control. What I do find are tons of assurances that if I lean into the Lord and detach from the problem, blessings will ensue.

Final caveat: I’m not suggesting ignoring problems or failing to take sensible steps to resolve issues. That approach would take us back to the running away strategy which we’ve already dismissed as unwise. Rather, in the absence of alternatives to make things right, as it were, sometimes the wisest action is no action. Waiting on the Lord. Being ready at all times to mend fences wherever possible, but allowing the Lord time to settle dust and ruffled feathers.

My personal experience with running ahead of God in trying to bring about the solution I think I want has consistently been disaster. At this point in my life, enough already!

I’ll give the final word to this succinct but packed poem. The internet can’t make up its mind who wrote this little gem, so I’ll just place it here anonymously but with deep gratitude for the unnamed author who so perfectly “nailed” the concept of letting go and letting God:

As children bring their broken toys, 
With tears, for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God,  

Because He was my Friend.


But then, instead of leaving Him
In peace, to work alone;
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried,
“How can You be so slow?”
“My child,” He said, “what could I do?
You never did let go!"

Sunday, July 13, 2025

Old Age Isn't a Deal Breaker

My stove is an eyesore.

There. I said it.

This baby has boo boo's that I've tried to fix with metal repair paint. Alas, it turns out there are varying hues of this magical goo, and I unfortunately chose the wrong one. 

My range is an electric model, and it's well over 20 years old. Like anything of such an accomplished vintage, this workhorse has needed a replacement here and there. I've changed up the drip pans on more than one occasion, and the latest batch has the coils sitting ever so slightly askew. 

End result? Things are a bit tilted in the making – but the final product is still more than respectable.

Similarly, the desktop on which I’m composing this piece just celebrated its sixth birthday. If we were talking about a child, we’d say he was just beginning his journey. When electronics – especially ones that get as much wear and tear as computers – hit this kind of milestone, the word Neanderthal springs to mind.

At the risk of jinxing my good fortune, I must pat this thing on the back (make that motherboard) and declare it an Energizer Bunny that gets the job done.

Don’t misunderstand me. We have limitations. The monitor predates the tower, so it’s lacking in some areas. For instance, Zoom meetings are rather quiet on my end due to the lack of a microphone. A few letters on the keyboard are indistinct or even rubbed off altogether – again, a sign of age but, heck, my fingers know where “L” is supposed to be, so we soldier on.

Some would assert that I ought to just scrap my old dinosaurs and start fresh. Out with the old, in with the new. The thing is – well, truth be told, there are a few things preventing such an ageist approach. First, there’s the “they don’t make ’em like they used to” factor. For instance, I’ve researched kitchen ranges and find them long on expense and short on durability and lifespan. Secondly, I HATE – in the strongest sense of the word – the process of researching, price shopping, arranging delivery, and generally all things connected with replacing worn out stuff with newer but soon-to-be-worn-out stuff. When dealing with computers, let’s not forget the utter joys of setting up the system and transferring files.

Who needs it?

The bottom line is, when it comes to appliances and electronics, I limp along for as long as I can and replace when I must.

This isn’t such a bad strategy, all things considered. For one thing, it’s great practice for getting older. Let’s face it: time marches on, time waits for no man – pick your idiom. However we choose to phrase it, none of us is getting any younger, so we may as well find some way to cope with the changes. True, our bodies benefit from new parts from time to time, but not one of us can boast a full body or mind transplant. This is one of many reasons I can’t support the gender transitioning phenomenon sweeping our nation, but I digress.

Since we don’t have the luxury of throwing away the aging models God gave us, we simply have to manage them.

This brings me to why I trekked over to the Blue Church in Springfield recently. This faithful organization has an absolutely mind-blowing ministry called the Caring Hearts Lending Closet. Let me share the shout-out I gave them on Facebook:

Amazing staff and stuff! I never saw such a huge array of expensive freebies! Karin was prompt in responding to my email questions about availability and times. Catherine fed and watered me while I waited for my turn at bat (which, by the way, was only minutes). You heard right. Not only are they collecting, inventorying and distributing FREE medical supplies, but they hand out breakfast to boot. PT Maura Tehrani Henderson donated her time to show me how to size and properly use the items I was taking home. As if all this weren't enough, another volunteer whose name I didn't catch schlepped my "winnings" out to my car and loaded them in. This is truly a grand ministry, and I walked away feeling completely blessed.

I visited this community event because some of my parts are working less than optimally. Since I’m very interested in preserving function (see above), I thought it best to grab some equipment in hopes of shoring up the old gal.

The Bible offers many insights into the aging process. In fact, this timeless book has scads of passages about the wonders of growing old, and the wisdom which often accompanies that process. Scouring my own website, I find I’ve written extensively on this subject, even referencing the old stove (same one) which catapulted this article.

Can one bring suit against oneself for plagiarism?

Nah. Let’s consider this an update and leave it at that.

Case in point. My prayer partner and I enjoy ministering to a small elderly population at a local nursing home. One of our “ladies,” as we fondly refer to our geriatric buddies, has quite the sense of humor. At 92 years young, this dear woman has more than her fair share of ailments. Once, while battling a cold, she quipped that she planned to get rid of the cough by cutting her throat! Another time, instead of complaining about ongoing GI troubles, she joked about them thusly: “That tenant down there – he’s been given an eviction notice but he won’t leave!” And I’d be remiss if I failed to quote the time when she was discussing a 78-year-old acquaintance. She interrupted her story and sighed, “Oh, to be 78 again!”

This lady is not only a riot, she’s as sharp as the proverbial tack. I recently “assisted” her in e-mailing government officials regarding an issue about which she was concerned. In my authorial hubris, I wrongly assumed I’d be doing most of the writing and she would merely sign off on the correspondence. Imagine my surprise when this nonagenarian rattled off exactly what she wanted to say succinctly and articulately. Not only that – she didn’t agonize over word choice or endlessly edit, as I’m prone to do.

A lesson learned…

It’s time to wrap this up. I started this article a couple of months ago, and it’s been lollygagging listlessly on my hard drive ever since. Some pieces come effortlessly and can be knocked out in an hour; others, not so much.

I guess what I really want to say is how important it is to recognize the beauty in all stages of life. With youth comes energy and verve; as the years creep by (make that speed by), we lose some of our stamina but gain perspective. For example, I felt very self-conscious telling my bosses I would be hobbling into work with a cane for the foreseeable future. The funny thing was, no one else seemed to give much of a hoot. Oh, everyone was sympathetic and concerned, but I quickly realized my colleagues and students were going to take their cues from me as to how to react to the change. If I acted like an invalid, moaning and groaning, we would all feel awkward. If I treated it like the practical, sensible strategy it is (as an educator, I sought and implemented practical, sensible strategies with students during my entire career), we could all move on without any fuss. Interestingly, after I got over the emotional discomfort of using the cane, it became a trusted friend, made more so because it had belonged to my dad. Thankfully, as my doctor predicted, eventually the cane became unnecessary, and simply resided in my locker “just in case”. 

The goal, it would seem, is to keep whatever function we have while adapting gracefully to what we’re losing.

"The righteous shall flourish like a palm tree, He shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those who are planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bear fruit in old age; they shall be fresh and flourishing, to declare that the Lord is upright; He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him." 

                                                                 - Psalm 92:12-15

Tuesday, June 24, 2025

Reclaiming the Rainbow

                                                        

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high
There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby


Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true
1

                                             

The Battle Lines

When Judy Garland trilled these classic lines 80 plus years ago, who could have foreseen the battle that would be raging over the rainbow in 2025? The gender movement was yet one of the “unthinkables” that Francis Schaeffer rightly predicted would become a "thinkable" in the future2 if good men continued to do nothing. However, over the past two generations, this colorful, streaming banner has become the symbol of LGBTQIA+ pride and endorsement. I find myself in the ludicrous but needful position of having to stake my own claim to the dazzling arc we call the rainbow.

The Basis

As a Christian, I place my faith in almighty God, the veracity of whose Holy Word has been upheld brilliantly by scholars far more learned than I (Josh McDowellC.S. Lewis, Lee Strobel, and Robert C. Walton, among others). Because these astute luminaries have argued ably on the subject, I see no reason to add to their work here. However, acknowledging that many in our secular society scoff at all things Biblical, I leave it to my audience to peruse some of the sources referenced above if they feel the need to sneer at the mention of how the Book of Genesis relates the origin of the rainbow.


The Background

 

Simply put, the rainbow first appears in Genesis 9:8-17, following the account of a world-wide flood (which is largely confirmed by unrelated sources in the ancient world, all offering various "takes" on the deluge, which bolster its credibility).3 The rainbow stands prominently as a promise from God that He will never destroy life on Earth via flood waters again. It is worth noting that He makes no assurances that humankind will not be subject to some other form of deadly judgment in response to disobedience. On the contrary, the Bible does detail catastrophic consequences for wickedness, often in the form of fire. 

But a large contingent of Earth’s occupants today would prefer to think of the creator of the universe – if they give Him any thought at all – as a God of love and acceptance of any and all kinds of belief systems and lifestyles. As such, they find it easy to co-opt and reassign meaning to the band of colors about which Garland sang so poignantly those many years ago.

The Battle Stakes

As a young teen, I received as a gift a glorious, handmade poster from an artistically talented friend. She calligraphed song lyrics from an album track we both loved which, incidentally, expressed in simple terms how a relationship with an all-knowing God transcends human love and understanding. My friend punctuated the poster with the swirling hues of a rainbow.

 

I’m burdened by the fact that that image, which saw me off to sleep on both tranquil and troubled nights, has been hijacked in my mind by a political and ideological maelstrom, none of which is based on science. What is scientifically indisputable and fact-checkable is that, in the wake of the gender movement, women are being harmed and their private spaces and athletic opportunities usurped by female-identifying men; children are being stripped of their innocence, and their concerns dismissed; life-altering decisions are being affirmed and thrust upon juveniles, whose minds are not biologically equipped to make said decisions, by “trusted adults” who are charged with protecting them; “increasing minors’ access to cross-sex interventions is associated with a significant increase in the adolescent suicide rate; and, finally, a vast array of serious health risks, including blood clots, heart disease, cancer, strokes, bone loss, infertilitytype 2 diabetes, acne, and mental health comorbidities and substance abuse behaviors are found among the transgender population.

 

Allow me to drill down into one of the aforementioned concerns stemming from hormone “therapies” and surgical procedures connected with “gender affirming” treatment. It is generally acknowledged among medical professionals that such interventions seriously impair fertility, including the very real possibility of complete sterility. Health care providers attempt to compensate for this by offering prophylactic measures such as pre-treatment freezing of eggs and sperm. However, these options are prohibitively expensive and typically not covered by insurance. In addition, the National Institute of Health admits that the ability to preserve reproductive cells in prepubescent children (a process historically reserved for childhood cancer patients) is largely untried and questionable at best. This factor constitutes a further indictment of the medical profession’s implementation of such life altering procedures among minors.

 

Readers are urged to view these facts in context with the national push for no-holds-barred abortion (nine states and the District of Columbia allow abortion up to the point of birth) to the tune of over 64 million abortions in the U.S. since Roe v. Wade's passage in 1973. It might seem logical to assume that abortion numbers have declined in the wake of the Supreme Court’s 2022 decision which returned abortion laws to the states (Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization); sadly, that has not been the case. Increased access to abortion pills via telehealth appointments, as well as “independent organizations… providing direct assistance such as financial support, transportation, childcare, translation services, lodging, and more” to facilitate abortions, have actually resulted in higher yearly numbers of aborted pregnancies in the U.S. since the Dobbs decision.

 

Coupling these daunting statistics with the stampede of physician assisted suicide legislation taking place in our country (currently ten states and the District of Columbia allow medical assistance in dying) and globally (a mindset which resulted in the withholding of treatment from and removal of life support against parents' wishes of babies such as Charlie Gard and Alfie Evans), one wonders if population control is not the ultimate end game of all this social engineering. 

 

Eugenics, anyone?


The Breakdown of Values

 

Lest my readers suspect I’m wandering off into the weeds, let me clarify my point. I’m attempting to show how our society’s love affair with death via abortion and assisted suicide has brought us to the point where our kids are at great risk from the gender identity movement. When human life becomes disposable, our youth internalize this message. (Shameless plug: in my novel, Belabored, one of the themes I try to hammer home is how the main character, Tanya, falls prey to pro-choice arguments and subsequently questions whether her unborn child’s life is worthy of protection.) Is it unreasonable to assume that the next logical step in this continuum of death-glorifying worldviews would be for young people to be willing to risk their fertility and, indeed, their entire futures on an ideological gamble?

 

My prayer is that the resources herein will stimulate discussion among individuals who are willing to reconsider the prevailing social agendas. I’m offering to any who are willing to examine it an “alternative view to the alternative view” that is increasingly being peddled as fact. Declaring that “the emperor has no clothes” may have frightening aspects, but silence is a much more terrifying option. The stakes couldn’t be higher, or the potential for disaster more far-reaching.


The Blight

Our nation is poised to celebrate its 249th Independence Day very soon. Amid the rejoicing, it seems intellectually honest to note that the glorious words of our forefathers were stained for generations by racism and sexism, as deeply as if the pens that set signatures to revolution-heralding parchments held blood in them.

In a brilliant strategy, the gender ideologues, who are shoving the scientifically groundless undermining of biological differences between the sexes down our throats and the throats of our children, are doing so in the name of human rights. The same pundits who are inflicting this ideology on society are rallying their troops in the spirit of oppression that fueled the actions of women like Susan B. Anthony and Rosa Parks. In reality, this baseless, harmful philosophy is becoming as institutionalized as the cultural blights of slavery and oppression of women were for a huge, shameful part of our country’s history.

It has appeared everywhere in recent years. Public schools, funded by taxpayers, have added gender identity materials to their libraries and curricula. Public libraries, also taxpayer-funded, have jumped onto the Drag Story Hour bandwagon, which introduces gender confusion to impressionable young minds. Even the organization formerly known as Boy Scouts has caved to pressure and opened its doors – and overnight events – not only to girls who identify as boys, but to any girl who cares to join.

Is nothing sacred?

Gender ideology is galloping towards becoming as ingrained in our children’s thinking as were the equally unfounded ideas that skin pigment and a double set of X chromosomes made one group of individuals inferior to another. The movement to saturate young minds with this scientifically indefensible concept smacks of Mao’s Cultural Revolution, with its emphasis on doing away with “old ideas”. It simply must be countered.

The Big Misconceptions

The championing of “gender affirming care” among children relies heavily on a study published in 2014 in the Netherlands. The findings of the “Dutch Study” have come under serious criticism due to subpar research methods, small sample size, and lack of a control group. One critique bemoans the fact that “The Dutch clinicians chose incommensurable scales to measure gender dysphoria, which calls into question their finding that dysphoria declined following cross-sex hormones and surgery.” This flawed foundation, which opened the door to the administration of hormones and “gender reassignment” surgeries to at least 13,994 children in the United States as of 2024, is rightly giving pause to many professionals weighing in on gender dysphoria among our youth.

Another misconception that has taken hold is that if young dysphoric individuals are not given access to hormones and surgeries, they are at extremely high risk of attempting and/or committing suicide. I addressed this concern in my article, In the Name of Gender. My assumptions were based on the premise that, when one attempts to change gender, that person simultaneously tries to erase his/her birth name and previous experience/existence while living as the sex listed on his/her birth certificate, which can lead to feelings of worthlessness if the “gender transition” doesn’t bring the desired happiness. While researching Reclaiming the Rainbow, I came across some vital information which expands on and even challenges those assertions. I quote below (bold text mine):

Suicide among trans-identified youth is significantly elevated compared to the general population of youth (Biggs, Citation2022; de Graaf et al., Citation2020). However, the “transition or die” narrative, whereby parents are told that their only choice is between a “live trans daughter or a dead son” (or vice-versa), is both factually inaccurate and ethically fraught. Disseminating such alarmist messages hurts the majority of trans-identified youth who are not at risk for suicide. It also hurts the minority who are at risk, and who, as a result of such misinformation, may forgo evidence-based suicide prevention interventions in the false hopes that transition will prevent suicide.

The “transition or die” narrative regards suicidal risk in trans-identified youth as a different phenomenon than suicidal risk among other youth. Making them an exception falsely promises the parents that immediate transition will remove the risk of suicidal self-harm. Trans patients themselves complain about the so-called “trans broken arm syndrome” – a frustrating pattern whereby physicians “blame” all the problems the patients are experiencing on their trans status, and a result, fail to perceive and respond to other sources of distress (Paine, Citation2021)…

A recent study of three major youth clinics concluded that suicidality of trans-identifying teens is only somewhat elevated compared to that of youth referred for mental health issues unrelated to gender identity struggles (de Graaf et al., Citation2020). Another study found that transgender-identifying teens have relatively similar rates of suicidality compared to teens who are gay, lesbian and bisexual (Toomey, Syvertsen, & Shramko, Citation2018). Depression, eating disorders, autism spectrum conditions, and other mental health conditions commonly found in transgender-identifying youth (Kaltiala-Heino, Bergman, Työläjärvi, & Frisen, Citation2018; Kozlowska, McClure, et al., Citation2021; Morandini, Kelly, de Graaf, Carmichael, & Dar-Nimrod, Citation2021) are all known to independently contribute to the probability of suicide (Biggs, Citation2022; Simon & VonKorff, Citation1998; Smith, Zuromski, & Dodd, Citation2018).

The “transition or suicide” narrative falsely implies that transition will prevent suicides. Clinicians working with trans-identified youth should be aware that although in the short-term, gender-affirmative interventions can lead to improvements in some measures of suicidality (Kaltiala et al., Citation2020), neither hormones nor surgeries have been shown to reduce suicidality in the long-term (Bränström & Pachankis, Citation2020aCitation2020b). Alarmingly, a longitudinal study from Sweden that covered more than a 30-year span found that adults who underwent surgical transition were 19 times more likely than their age-matched peers to die by suicide overall, with female-to-male participants’ risk 40 times the expected rate (Dhejne et al., Citation2011, Table S1). Another key longitudinal study from the Netherlands concluded that suicides occur at a similar rate at all stages of transition, from pretreatment assessment to post-transition follow-up (Wiepjes et al., Citation2020). The data from the Tavistock clinic also did not show a statistically significant difference between completed suicides in the “waitlist” vs. the “treated” groups (Biggs, Citation2022). Luckily, in both groups, completed suicides were rare events (which may have been responsible for the lack of statistical significance). Thus, we consider the “transition or die” narrative to be misinformed and ethically wrong.

In our experience working with trans-identified youth, an adolescent’s suicidality can sometimes arise as a response to parental distress, resistance, skepticism, or wish to investigate the forces shaping the new gender identity before social transition and hormone therapy. When mental health professionals or other healthcare providers fail to recognize the legitimacy of parental concerns, or label the parents as transphobic, this only tends to intensify intrafamilial tension. Clinicians would be well-advised that gender transition is not an appropriate response to suicidal intent or threat, as it ignores the larger mental health and social context of the young patient’s life—the entire family is often in crisis. Trans-identified adolescents should be screened for self-harm and suicidality, and if suicidal behaviors are present, an appropriate evidence-based suicide prevention plan should be put in place (de Graaf et al., Citation2020).4

It is worth noting that suicide among the trans population can be linked to despair over unmet expectations. Apparently, when a person reaches the end of the trans rainbow, having exhausted all interventions to present as the opposite gender, there can often be a tragic realization that all the surgeries and complications have been for naught. Scott Newgent, who attempted to change gender from female to male, says this: "It takes about seven or ten years to understand what you have done after medical transition.  In the trans community we call it the seven-to-ten year [sic] suicide itch.  .  .  .  [sic] And at some point, you have to go back and go. [sic] Why did I do that?  And then you go, Did it fix anything?  And you think to yourself, No.  . . . and then you see a transgender person who is older like you and you go, Did it help you?  and they go, It didn't help a f--ing thing.  And then you go, What are we doing then?  Why are we staying silent?"

Newgent (who is comfortable with people using male or female pronouns to describe her) also alleges a lack of expertise among physicians who offer “gender affirming care”, citing a huge array of medical complications and botched surgeries among the trans community. Newgent decries the chronic infections and ongoing health battles she continues to fight in the aftermath of “gender confirmation” treatment. Indeed, a cursory scroll through the internet will yield phrases like “teetus deletus” in reference to removing healthy breasts to align with gender identity, and other euphemisms like “groin job” that minimize the effects of “gender affirming” procedures. Such catchy terms appeal to young social media consumers while downplaying the myriad risks of these radical interventions.

Detransitioner Prisha Mosley, who miraculously became pregnant after attempting to change gender, describes the horror of carrying a child in her maimed body: “Mosley is particularly haunted by removing her breasts. She now has painful ‘rocks’ that have formed under her chest, or what her doctor says are milk masses stuck under scar tissue with no outlet because her nipples were reattached and are merely, ‘decorative. My doctor said some breast tissue was not removed and I have milk coming in as a response to prolactin.’ Instead of a soft pillow for her baby, her chest is hard.” Mosley’s experience would seem to bear out Newgent’s assertions of subpar care or, at the very least, lack of foresight among physicians offering gender treatment.

The Buck Should Stop Here

Finally (although I have no doubt other critics could provide further reasons why assisting children to change their body chemistry with unnecessary hormones and amputate healthy body parts ought to be illegal), let’s get to the heart of the matter. Who should have ultimate authority over these controversial procedures when it comes to children?

To tackle this question, let me allude to a simple example. Lately, I’ve been filling in for my church’s regular Sunday school teachers. These are the folks who minister week after week to wiggly preschoolers and inquisitive grade schoolers. They plan lessons, stock cupboards with craft supplies and goodies, and generally deserve halos for turning the Lord’s day into a workday for themselves so tired moms and dads can recharge their spiritual batteries.

Being a somewhat frustrated teacher at heart, I find myself tempted at times to ditch the lesson I’m being asked to teach in favor of one of my own choosing. There’s a big part of me that wonders if kids wouldn’t find it more interesting to study a lesser-known text rather than rehash ones with which many are already well acquainted. Through the years I’ve noticed an overemphasis on accounts like Jonah’s adventure in the fish’s belly and Noah’s ark building efforts, both of which I believe to be divinely inspired (not to mention that Jesus referred to both as factual); that said, I know of so many less familiar texts that could fascinate and inspire little hearts. But I digress.

Here’s the point: I don’t yield to that temptation. I respect the fact that the day in, day out instructors have prepared a lesson, and I’m simply holding down the fort. While it might be easy to jump in and wow the little ones with a whole new format and outside-the-box lessons, I recognize that the church has entrusted the responsibility of these kids’ spiritual education to certain people, who have selected certain materials, and I am beholden to said people and said lesson plans.

Contrast the scenario I’ve just described with the behavior of entities such as schools and counselors, which in some cases have taken it upon themselves to support youngsters expressing a desire to “gender transition” in the absence of parental consent. Parents who wipe noses and bottoms, foot the bills, and dangle on the hook for their offspring’s behavior are being excluded from one of the most life-impacting events that can happen to their children. Tragically, courts have been known to rule against parents’ wishes on the gender question. Non-parental agents are entrusted to come alongside, not overrule, lawful parents and guardians, who only loan power to these groups to help shape their kids into future adults. Anything more is an egregious overstepping of authority.

My position is that no outside agency has the right to usurp the rights of law-abiding parents whose only “offense” is refusing to let still-maturing children make irreversible decisions. The parental instinct to protect youngsters from unforeseen dangers (what Scott Newgent calls “seeing around the corner”) should be honored and celebrated, rather than mislabeled “family violence”.

The Backlash

Sadly, recent years have seen an alarming spike in lawsuits against groups and individuals who have refused to compromise their values. People with sincerely held beliefs are finding themselves dragged through expensive, often prolonged litigation in order to keep their jobs or stay in business. A tiny segment of the United States’ population is driving a narrative that has not been scientifically proven or ethically tested, and fear of repercussions is rendering many silent during this crucial time.


The Breakthrough

Thankfully, many voices of reason are adding divergent views in high decibels to the sweeping acceptance of “gender transitioning” young people considered too immature to sign most contracts but apparently old enough to consent to the lopping off of body parts. We are seeing an international about-face regarding gender policy in many western countries. For example, in 2020 Sweden’s National Board of Health and Welfare issued a report admitting, “People with gender dysphoria, especially young people, have a high incidence of co-occurring psychiatric diagnoses, self-harm behaviors, and suicide attempts compared to the general population. Co-occurring psychiatric diagnoses among people with gender dysphoria are therefore a factor that needs to be considered more closely during investigation. Suicide mortality rates are higher among people with gender dysphoria compared to the general population. At the same time, people with gender dysphoria who commit suicide have a very high rate of co-occurring serious psychiatric diagnoses, which in themselves sharply increase risks of suicide. Therefore, it is not possible to ascertain to what extent gender dysphoria alone contributes to suicide, since these psychiatric diagnoses often precede suicide.” 

Similarly, in 2023 Denmark’s Journal of the Danish Medical Association noted, “… in Denmark and other countries there is a much greater proportion of gender dysphoric youth with comorbid mental illness (e.g., 75% in Finland). These conditions include depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts/self-harm, autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).”

In the UK, the Tavistock and Portman Gender Identity Clinic closed in 2023 after an independent report on its practices declared, “To date, there has been very limited research on the short, medium or longer-term impact of puberty blockers on neurocognitive development.” The closure followed a lawsuit by Keira Bell, whose story along with those of other gender detransitioners, can be found in my article, In the Name of Gender.

Here in the United States, SCOTUS has just handed down a 6-3 decision in the Skrmetti case, constituting a major breakthrough. Three teens and their parents, along with then President Joe Biden, brought suit against a Tennessee law banning puberty blockers and hormone administration to minors suffering from gender dysphoria. The ruling, challenged only by the three historically left-leaning justices, upheld the state’s right to protect young people from making permanent decisions in response to a largely temporary problem, and opens the door for other states to do likewise.

The Bottom Line

 

Despite the possibility of fallout, I feel driven to state my position clearly. What motivates me is the example of my parents, who knew what they stood for, and why.

 

My father once told my siblings and me that he had a driving principle in his life which, at crucial decision-making junctures, kept him out of trouble. He said he would ask himself, “If I engage in this behavior, what will my children think of me?” 

I believe Dad’s life rule applies to inaction, too. James 4:17 states, “Whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.” Heaven forbid that be said of me by future generations.

My mother took things a step further. While Dad’s philosophy kept him from destructive behavior, Mom’s aim was to try to let no injustice go unrighted. This propelled her to advocate for an ailing relative who was divested of a small inheritance by a greedy church leader. Mom later took similar action when she became aware of a school friend whose mental illness threatened to render her homeless. Finally, perhaps her magnum opus (on par with raising her children to be responsible, compassionate adults) consisted of the following. After learning that the child of a destitute family had been seriously injured, she made it her business to obtain their contact information from the news station which had reported the story. Together, she and Dad diverted some of their hard-earned savings to provide a brighter Christmas for the disadvantaged children in that home. I don’t think Dad was ever prouder of her.

My parents didn’t kid themselves that their small contribution to this family’s welfare would ultimately change the latter's overall situation. A few dollars’ worth of toys would not get these folks out of subsidized housing or keep their kids away from drugs or predators. However, they found themselves poised at a certain moment in time to make a small difference in an ongoing problem.

During this month in which pride is being celebrated, I feel the need to join the ranks of those who have been paddling against the “T” part of the LGBTQIA+ tide threatening to sweep our youngsters into lifelong health problems and drug reliance. Many brave detransitioners are speaking up about their unfortunate experiences with this social experiment, and I don’t want them to speak into a vacuum that should be populated by intelligent adults. Things are starting to shift. I hope, through my writing, to be part of that momentum.

Like my parents, I can’t hope to “fix” the entire spectrum of social change that is sweeping this country. Nor would I wish to. The United States has long been a bastion of charity combined with ingenuity, the result of which continues to be aid for the distressed and hope for the downhearted. I believe many who are buying into the gender identity movement are thus motivated and have the purest of intentions. My hope is that, having taken time to seriously consider the points herein, they will find themselves stirred to action of a different sort and, in so doing, reclaim the original meaning of the rainbow for the next generation. May it be said of us that we put “the dreams that we dare to dream” for our children over our personal comfort and security, at a time when a national nightmare threatened to engulf them.

 

 

1Over the Rainbow, music by Harold Arlen, lyrics by E.Y. Harburg: 1938. Performed by Judy Garland in MGM picture The Wizard of Oz.

 2C. Everett Koop and Francis Schaeffer, Whatever Happened to the Human Race?, revised edition (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1983).

 3Robert C. Walton, Defending Your Shield: Responding to Attacks on the Uniqueness of Christianity (Brookhaven: Planters Press, 2016). See chapter 2, The Flood

 4S. B. Levine, E. Abbruzzese, & J. W. Mason (2022). Reconsidering Informed Consent for Trans-Identified Children, Adolescents, and Young Adults. Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy, 48(7), 706–727. https://doi.org/10.1080/0092623X.2022.2046221.

 

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Progress Means Improvement, Not Perfection

My response to a child of God who’s seeing progress in her life but still not meeting her own expectations:

Oh, precious one, you think so much like I do! I’m glad you are reminding yourself to look at your
growth; how far you’ve come is always a better point to examine than how far you have to go.
Remember, our goal is to become more like Jesus, but it’s lunacy to think we’ll ever arrive at any approximation of His perfection.
Just stay the course, sweetheart. Keep striving to do each next right thing, and if you’re going to compare your growth in the Lord to your lack thereof, why not recall how far the east is from the west, as Psalm 103 suggests? Verse 12 tells us that’s the distance He put between us and our sins at the cross.
Pretty comforting, isn’t it?
I’m praying for you right now, sweet girl. The catch phrase these days is “You’ve got this!” My take on that is, no, I haven’t “got this”, and truthfully I never will.
But how wonderfully relieving that our Lord “got” all of it at the cross, and He’s giving away forgiveness FOR FREE!

What a Savior.

Friday, April 11, 2025

Test Post

Hey Gang,

As ever, I continue searching for the perfect (well, acceptable would be good enough) subscriber service. To that end, please forgive this silly test post. 

We are getting there...

Look for more substantive blog content as soon as all the bugs are fixed.

Onward, upward, and homeward,

Thea

Friday, February 28, 2025

February Part 2

The Demon of Control

In my last post, I worried over things I couldn’t control and fretted over the futile pride that causes me to try to change things/people/events over which I am powerless.

Oy vey, as my father would say.

The Inevitability of Pain

This has been a month of fear and funerals. February seems to have that effect on a lot of us. We slog through wind and ice and cold (at least in our part of the country), and all we have to show for it is another day of the same - aching muscles and weary hearts.

But I mean this post to be hopeful, not despairing.

As I said, my family (and here I mean both biological and spiritual) has been doing its share of grieving of late. Loved ones are either sick – and I mean sick – or have left this world to gain entrance into another. My role in all of this has been more indirect than personal, i.e., I have served as a supportive presence rather than an actual participant. In short, I’ve been shoring up the troops.

Again, I’m striving to be upbeat but…

So far, not so much.

Let me switch gears.

The Value of Accountability

One thing that’s been useful during this period of semi-chaos has been to keep a ledger of sorts. Not to wax political, but I’m thinking of the current administration’s demand that government workers account for their activities on the job. I began tracking my own activities in 2020, when the COVID crisis kept me out of work for about six months. I decided at the outset that I wasn’t going to waste that period of enforced leave. I was well experienced in frittering away down time, having spent many a summer vacation and holiday break wiling away hours and regretting it after the fact. So, this time, when the government and my employer were paying me to “stay home and save lives,” I created a schedule for myself and tried to catch up on things I couldn’t get to during a regular work week.

I drafted a book proposal. The recipients didn’t bite, but them’s the breaks.

I joined and even cohosted nightly prayer meetings. Recalling the impact of corporate prayer in the wake of the 911 attacks, my prayer partner and I drilled down in this particular area. Our efforts resulted in the formation of a weekly women’s Bible study. I can’t say how much these activities impacted others, but yours truly gained a lot of spiritual ground.

The Power of Community

I reached out to other members of my church to see how they were faring during this frightening time. There wasn’t much I could do to help, as we were all simply trying to keep our own heads above water, but it gave me a chance to go through the church directory and make contact with hitherto unknown attendees.

My Aunt Carole had a wonderful practice of checking in often by phone. She lived at a distance and didn’t drive. Her health was only so-so, meaning she couldn’t do much but encourage. But encourage she did. Regularly. Even forcefully, in the gentlest way possible, if you know what I mean. If a few calls went unreturned, a more urgent request for an update would ensue.

This lady understood the power of caring and made it a habit.

Aunt Carole’s earthly body has left this world, but her lessons have not. On days when I feel lazy or uninspired, even defeated, reaching out to others can bring me a sense of purpose. The vacuuming may remain undone, but another soul can be touched.

While I’m on the subject of aunties, Aunt Doris promised to be there for me after the death of my one remaining parent. Like Aunt Carole, her age and limitations made it unlikely that she could do much more than listen and maybe offer a few words of counsel. She did, however, coin a phrase which made its way into my head, my heart, and even my novel: “Sometimes you just need to talk to somebody with white hair.”

I realize this last comment is a bit of a digression from the topic at hand, since Aunt Doris’s phone hugs began long before the COVID era. Citing author’s privilege, I’m leaving it in anyway because it reinforces the importance of community, and not exclusively from one’s biological family.

Community matters now, it mattered during COVID, and it will matter whenever and wherever we find ourselves. My friend, Tina, figured this out long ago. It’s taken me a little longer, perhaps because I’ve been blessed with a close family. Having something as a given can make for a sense of entitlement, or rather, expectation that it will always be there. Taking for granted, I suppose. Tina has experienced many losses and thus realizes the need to not go it alone. She is and always will be an example of casting one’s lot with others and living by that concept.

The Slow Demise of Pride

All these goals are worthy and good, but just when I’m feeling indispensable (yeah, right), I fall hip deep into a flareup of an underlying condition which had been behaving itself for several months. Out comes the cane and in go the NSAIDs.

Those palliatives may be little, but they pack a big punch.

It’s not the pain I mind so much. I know how to do rest and relaxation, but I’m not too keen on helplessness. Check that. I’m not helpless; I’m simply less able to be helpful, at a time when family and friends are in need of all the help they can get.

Apparently, my heavenly Father feels I need a lesson in humility.

So be it.

Accordingly, on this final day of February 2025, I offer up the power I can still exercise in the midst of powerlessness. Power to call on a Power far greater than any I could boast. Power to relegate pride to its rightful place – as so many people I love are involuntarily having to do right along with me. Power to slowly but surely admit that divine power overpowers, overshadows, and overcomes any perceived power I’m blessed to possess.

What a Savior.