Do What You Want Miley.

August 27, 2013August 27, 2013 / Erin Kirk / Leave a comment

In case you live in a cave, Miley Cyrus basically broke Twitter Sunday with her foam hand and vinyl-clad VMA performance with the pervy and awkward Robin Thicke. Blogger Elizabeth Ester called it “predictable” and sums up the whole hot mess here.

The only lyric I remember from Miley’s song was “I do what I want.” Over and over. Wow, what a marvelous idea Miley! Humans, especially 20-year-old girls, fare so well when discharged from any measure of accountability.

So my question is:

Who is advising this woman? And in 18 months, when she wakes up in rehab, will they care? As her team (read: the people making money off her) will surely tweet, “Miley’s in a really good space and she appreciates your prayers,” will she be smart enough to snap out of it and FIRE THEM, so she can become something other than a caricature?

Young women here’s a tip: if anybody benefits more than you do from your “exercise of freedom” they are exploiting you. (Unemployed live-in boyfriends spring to mind.)

Maybe if Miley had a few feminist friends on her team, they might say: “Miley honey, that performance you have planned will debase you as a woman. It’s stupid, it’s lazy and you’re so much better than that.”

Or maybe a few gals from her old Baptist Church in Tennessee might say: “Miley honey, that performance you have planned will debase you as a woman. It’s stupid, it’s lazy and you’re so much better than that.”

Although many people think biblical wisdom is irrelevant and antithetical to 21st century culture, it comes from many mouths and often looks a lot like common sense.

Maybe Miley could take a cue from Justin Timberlake, whose VMA performance was so well choreographed and fun it screamed creativity, discipline and hard work. He was also humble and generous when he received his awards. Guess what? All that is biblical too, and he even received thunderous applause. So maybe the zombies aren’t coming just yet.

This morning Miley tweeted a new slutty pic of herself as if to say, “Ha, I meant to create something that even Hollywood would deride.”

It’s telling the picture was shot from the back.

The wise inherit honor, but fools get only shame. Proverbs 3:35

A Prayer for Bucking Horses.

August 23, 2013August 23, 2013 / Erin Kirk / 8 Comments

I got bucked off my horse this morning while moving cattle, and I’m mulling two life lessons from it.

I may look innocent…

Number one: It’s about 70% my fault because when it’s 100 degrees outside nobody feels much like riding. So the horses eat, sleep, and punk around the pasture, until shipping day when we yank them from their early morning slumber and we head out to gather calves.

And none of that’s a big deal until the cows get a little trotty and you’ve got to dig your heels in and get up there and stop them. Well, Prince Cuddles was offended by that, so he dropped his head and bucked me off, perhaps expressing his desire for more regular exercise.

On my way to the ground I had the following thought:

“Oh, this shouldn’t be too bad.”

And it wasn’t, I got up, gave Sam the high sign and got back on.

Lesson Number 2: The only reason I was fairly relaxed about my 41 year-old body hitting the ground was, I prayed about all of this ahead of time.

While hauling the horses to the back side of the ranch, I talked to Jesus about a few people who’ve asked me to pray for them; I asked for horse, human and bovine safety and we discussed marriage, which ranch wives everywhere will tell you, takes a beating on shipping day.

I’m not saying prayer is a lucky rabbit’s foot and nothing bad can happen after you pray, because obviously I still got bucked off. But praying just helps me not worry about outcomes so much. It reminds me that He promised to never leave me nor forsake me (Deut 31:6) and he will command His angels to guard me. Psalm 91:11.

So forget the candles, incense and King James English you don’t need all that. You just need to a little faith that he is who he says he is, and he’s standing by to help.

Two Lessons from a Mud Hut

August 19, 2013October 26, 2013 / Erin Kirk / 15 Comments

These women are dangerous.

See this little hut with the grass roof and mud walls? I can hardly believe it myself, but for seven days, eight women called it home.

It amazes me now, solitary as I am, that I didn’t throttle anybody or succumb to panic in the suffocatingly close quarters. In fact, I thrived there. The midnight prayers that rose from that hut were so precious, I keep admiring them like a handful of emeralds.

Pray, then balance sandwiches on your head.

Here are two things I learned in that hut.

1. We are stronger in tribes – even independent Americans.

While I prefer to sequester myself from other humans and their intolerable messes, it makes me weak. In Africa, I allowed older, wiser women into some deeply shaded parts of my life, allowing their years of wisdom and experience wash over me, and I finally understood what it is to rest for a moment in someone else’s faith.

See, when we go deep with people, into their triumphs and messes, when we witness their failures and are not scared or offended, we grow in community. Perhaps that’s why Jesus told us to stay in church, so we can deal with the inevitable conflict of being human and learn what grace really means.

The reward for the effort is deep affection for one another, and the experience of God’s grace. I love these women now in ways I can’t fully describe.

2. Prayer with a group of woman all kneeling at the feet of Jesus, works.

One night in that hut, we gathered under sleeping bags and headlamps and prayed for things some of us have never spoken out loud. I saw icebergs calve, skyscrapers of hidden guilt and fear, shearing off those women and crashing into the water below, melting in the light of God’s grace and mercy. Jesus told us to do this because He knew it would make us lighter, more nimble, and dangerous to the enemy, but I had to go to Africa to take it seriously.

After all, what scares you doesn’t scare me, so in the name of Jesus, I can walk into your dark corners and kick some ass for you. Then you can do it for me.

And something changes between us forever.

Hubbard Glacier (Photo credit: roger4336)

I wonder if our independent streak is sometimes a cover for laziness and fear. Of course it’s easier to mind our business and small talk each other to death, but who will slay your dragons when you’re too far down to do it yourself? Who will call that thing you believe about yourself the bald-faced lie it is? Who will say, “You’re drowning in Scotch but I love you and I’m here?”

So if I must choose between a lovely stone manse, with silent wings and empty grounds, and a tiny, mud hut with your socks on my bed and your burdens in my heart, I’m taking the hut. Because I need you, and you need me. So let’s do this thing together.