L. Maristatter's Blog

From my Substack: On the adult in the room

"I wept for Charlie Kirk. I wept for the unthinking violence that killed him. I wept for the shooter. I wept for all of those who will call me a hypocrite for weeping. As if weeping over an untimely death—any untimely death—is a sin. As if weeping over a broken life is a sin.

"I wept for a powerful, beautiful, once-promising nation that has lost its way."

Read the rest on Substack:
https://substack.com/home/post/p-1736...

From My Substack: On joining the choir

"They are laughing because they believe there will never be a price to pay for what they’re doing. They are laughing because they know the world is burning and resources are dwindling even as populations swell, but they think they’re at the top of the heap, and while the rest of us starve or die from lack of healthcare or increasing pollution or from natural disasters made worse by climate change, they will be okay, because they threw in their lot with the survivors.

"They are wrong."

https://lmaristatter.substack.com/p/o...

From My Substack: On getting over myself on Mother's Day

"The church has long sought to soften and co-opt the iron-willed love of women, and its corruption of Mother’s Day is no exception. But the anemic, pathetic bromides of patriarchy cannot soothe our grief, mitigate our rage, nor heal or bring to life those sons and daughters maimed and murdered by war. The endorsement of war from the Christian pulpit must end; this Mother’s Day, women must insist on it."

https://substack.com/home/post/p-1633...

From My Substack: On Not Making the Whole World Blind

"All this illustrates something Robert Reich calls 'the contagion of courage'—when we see others acting in a fearless manner, it inspires us to do the same. The concept has been used so often in movies, it’s become a trope: a crowd of people sits, silent and scared, until one person stands up or steps forward, and then another, and suddenly the whole group is on its feet, shouting defiance or storming the castle or demanding a union."

https://substack.com/home/post/p-1617...

On Things Staying the Same

"It was the covers that drew me in. The covers that immediately told me the long-entrenched and rampant misogyny in the church is still alive and well and hungry, always seeking to warp minds and stamp out truth, and reproduce its shameful misinterpretation of the Bible on the next generation.

"On the face of it, this reaction sounds extreme. But let’s examine the covers with a communicator’s eye, because it isn’t."

Check out my latest Substack.

https://lmaristatter.substack.com/p/o...

I'm on Substack!

For those who don't know, I've (finally) started my email newsletter, AND I have an account on Substack. So if you're interested in updates on Tiny Tin House Book 2 (which I hope to have out later this year), please drop me a note with your email or subscribe on Substack—both are free.

Ordinarily, here's where I would post the link to my first newsletter. But I ran across something yesterday that's much more important—something I think you should see. It's a comment on Diana Butler Bass's talk about what happened to the Christianity left to us by Christ, and how those who corrupted the message changed everything. Trust me: It's worth your time.

https://substack.com/@lmaristatter/no...

On Miley and the Thief of Confidence

I always think I’m not going to like Miley Cyrus. But she always manages to change my mind.

Case in point: this year’s Grammy Awards.

Her performance was not the most beautiful, flashiest or most technically perfect to ever grace the Grammy stage. She sometimes misses her pitches, and her dance moves—while on point and effective—will never be mistaken for those of Tina Turner or Janet Jackson. 

It doesn’t matter.

Miley is an entertainer. And she has the one thing any successful entertainer absolutely must have.

Confidence.

She has it in abundance. It oozes out of her, not only while she’s performing, but also while she’s speaking. While she’s walking. Eating dinner. And—I suspect—while she’s making love. 

This is why she wrote the song “Flowers,” the song she just won a Grammy for.

“Flowers” is a new classic breakup song. It’s in the vein of Carrie Underwood (“Before He Cheats”) and Taylor Swift (pick one). But “Flowers” is all Miley.

I can buy myself flowers
Write my name in the sand
Talk to myself for hours
Say things you don’t understand
I can take myself dancing
And I can hold my own hand
Yeah, I can love me better than you can

Miley wrote this song—and this is speculation, but not much—because she has discovered the one uncomfortable truth about living one’s life as a confident woman. 

Most men hate it.

So do most women. 

And because of this, most confident women cave. They allow that confidence to be stripped away, bit by bit, day by day, until they become the tired, soft, appropriately cowed woman our society will approve.

Not Miley.

As Mom and I watched Miley sing, I said, “You know, what bugs me about Miley is that she has not a speck of humility.” 

And a tiny alarm bell went off in my brain. And a tiny voice—the one that’s helping me deconstruct—said, How DARE you, Lisa?

Humility is a significant part of the Official Christian Code of Behavior. It’s revered in churches and lionized in sermons. We not only love it in church—we love it in society. “He’s wildly successful but still so humble!” 

Well, of course. Men can get away with humility (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) because they’re already at the top of the heap, and they know it.

For women, however, humility is a requirement for navigating life—especially as a Christian. This is evidenced in articles like “15 Personality Traits of a Humble Woman (Who Everyone Respects).” Right out of the gate, the author writes,

A humble woman is someone who knows herself and her capabilities – but doesn’t feel the need to show off. 

“Show off”? Excuse me, but why is “showing off” always applied to women and girls? Boys are lauded for “showing their strength” or “growing into their leadership abilities.” But girls are criticized for “acting bossy” or “showing off”?

The article goes on to say that a humble woman will do things like bake delicious banana bread without feeling the need to post about it online, because by doing so she’s thoughtful and empathetic.

Because God forbid a woman’s skills and talents should make someone else feel bad about himself.

Other authors emphasize that a woman should have “a biblical view” of herself, not be a worrier or a people-pleaser, and admit her need for “help” and “rest.” The list goes on. In more conservative churches, it includes things like submitting to one’s husband and pastor, focusing on the children, volunteering in the kitchen. Keeping “her place.” Staying in “her lane.” It becomes a way of thinking, a mental pattern that, after years of conditioning, becomes very difficult to shake, and demonically easy to inflict on the next generation. Which, of course, is the whole point. Once I, as a woman, have accepted that humility is a fruit of the Spirit, I, as a woman, must work diligently toward that end to become acceptable to the church—and by extension, God.

There’s just one problem. Humility is not listed in the Bible as a fruit of the Spirit.

From Galatians: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” The closest you can get here to humility is “gentleness,” and that’s a reach.

Before you get me wrong, I’m not suggesting we canonize Miley Cyrus. I don’t think she’d be comfortable as Saint Miley, anyway. 

What I am saying is that all too often, we allow our perceptions of what is and is not biblical to determine how we perceive people. And all too often, those perceptions are flawed, because we do not and cannot know a person as well as God knows her. My words to Mom were a knee-jerk reaction from decades of flawed teaching—teaching I’m currently deconstructing from. 

The effects of tainted humility hit me hardest in my most vulnerable place: my voice.

Like Miley, I’m a singer. And like Miley, I’m an entertainer. I was born to it. I’m a natural on stage. This works at the Grammies. In the church? Not so much.

I spent years singing on praise teams, and every single time I got up to sing, I tied myself up in spiritual knots. I’m enjoying this. Oh no! I’m supposed to be humble. Don’t be too happy. Don’t want the best new solos. Don’t draw too much attention to yourself.

Needless to say, this didn’t work out too well.

Every time I got up to sing, I was nervous. I worried about how I was coming across to the congregation. (Because if you think those good, godly people won’t judge everything you do the minute you step on the dais, you are WRONG.) I was worried my “worship” was becoming “performance” and someone would notice. I was worried that my clothes were wrong or I was moving to the beat too much (which I did get called on the carpet for). I was trying to transition from being a confident performer to being an appropriately humble praise-team member. 

And I failed.

God has gifted me with an incredible ability to communicate Their love through song. By trying to be what I thought the church—and God—wanted, I destroyed my talent and very nearly destroyed my faith.

Miley is a terrific role model because she embraces who she is. She knows she doesn’t always get it right, but that isn’t a woman problem, that’s a human problem. Her learning is messy because she’s in the public eye. Most of my learning (mercifully) happens in private.

The best thing about this essay? Miley won’t care what I say, either way.

I think that’s what I love about her most.

https://hackspirit.com/personality-traits-of-a-humble-woman/  .

https://www.desiringgod.org/messages/greatness-humility-servanthood

If you want a great example of a woman owning a stage, a performance and her own talent, click here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSC4TcLJfAg

Review of "The Woman They Wanted"

The Woman They Wanted: Shattering the Illusion of the Good Christian Wife by Shannon Harris

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I think right out of the gate we need to highlight the place in the Preface where Shannon Harris (now Bonne) writes, “The criticism I present of my own church does not mean I condemn all churches, Christianity in general, or other religions.” This is important, because those on the conservative right are trying to convince people (read: Christian women) that “Shannon Harris is leading people away from Christ! Don’t read this book!” That’s nonsense for not only the reason cited above, but also because Shannon never tries to convince anyone else to follow her lead. She’s telling her story. As usual, conservative Christian men get their knickers in a knot over a woman telling the truth of what has happened to her, especially if it has to do with the church.

And that’s exactly what convinced me I had to read the book. I wanted to know if these men were right. They’re not. What they are is frightened.

Shannon details the years of church-based experiences that took her from a confident, fearless child to a psychologically traumatized woman who could barely function—a woman she didn’t recognize when she looked in the mirror. As the wife of a celebrity-pastor husband, everything she wore, did and said was scrutinized and criticized. The worst part of this kind of so-called “constructive criticism” is that when it comes from someone in authority in the church, it isn’t just their opinion—it’s God’s opinion. It’s what we begin to think we must do to present ourselves to God without stain or blemish. Even if that isn’t stated explicitly, it’s implied because of the environment and the authority/subordinate relationship.

News flash: That is what grace is for. None of us can present ourselves to God without stain or blemish without the redeeming work of Christ.

One of Shannon’s critics pointed out that she wasn’t raised in the church, so why was she even considered to be Joshua Harris’s wife (as if it matters to anyone but Shannon and Joshua why they’re getting married)? I can tell you why. Because without any kind of a scriptural foundation, Shannon was much easier to control. And this is the crux: the constant criticism of women in the church stems from the desire for control.

That’s why this book resonated with me so strongly. As a former praise team member in a conservative church, I can relate, although I didn’t experience the level of microscopic control Shannon endured. Hers is a story of how the church—both men in leadership and their wives—conspired to convince a woman to not trust herself or her intuition. They separated her from her friends and family and anyone else who might affect her thinking. Because if we don’t trust ourselves, they can keep us off balance, guessing, never centered in our perception of what is right, and more importantly, what God wants for us. It’s spiritual abuse and it must stop. Today. Now. (And if you are reading this and you are defending this kind of behavior or experiencing this kind of behavior, please understand: You are in a cult. Please get help, and get yourself out. You can still be a believer, but Jesus does not require or endorse this kind of control.)

But it’s easier for conservative Christian men to criticize the woman reacting to her abuse, instead of criticizing the abuse that damaged her. Because if they criticize the abuse, they have to examine their own complicity in the systems that foster and nurture it.

To those who are upset with Shannon for not “taking responsibility for what she went through,” not “dying to self,” and not “submitting herself to God”—before you pile on, sister, maybe try walking in her shoes, first. You are not qualified to judge the psychological and spiritual damage this woman experienced. And God hasn’t yet finished writing her story.

Thank you, Shannon, for your courage in writing this book. And thank you for not denigrating my faith, even though you suffered from the worst parts of an abusive religion. You indeed “inspire women and other readers to live more courageously and authentically wherever [we] are.”



View all my reviews

Tiny Tin House is available as an audiobook!

(And there is much cheering! Check it out on Audible!)

In the Christian States of America, where religion rules, one woman discovers the only rules are about survival.

Although she’s legally an adult, eighteen-year-old Meryn Flint must live at home until her stepfather, Ray, finds her a husband. That’s the law.

But when Ray kills her mother and Meryn must flee for her own safety, she quickly discovers there’s no safe place in the CSA for a woman on the run. Unless she’s willing to marry her former boyfriend—a man who’s already demonstrated his capacity for violence—she’ll be forced to live on the street. And that’s a dangerous option for a woman alone.

As time runs out, Meryn is offered a third path: build herself a tiny house, a safe place to call home. Even though it’s a violation of her Family Duty as well as every moral law on the books, Meryn seizes the chance.

But even a tiny tin house might not be enough to save her . . .

My favorites of 2023

My Favorite Books of 2023.

This is always such a difficult and subjective task! It’s made harder by my lack of memory; I often have to go back and refresh my mind on a book’s topic or prose. It’s one of the things I loathe about getting older!

Twenty twenty-three was an interesting year for me from a literary standpoint. I tried hard to break out of my usual reading patterns, and was rewarded with some true gems that I otherwise never would have considered. Cases in point: Paul Harding’s This Other Eden, a tragic, remarkable, atmospheric dessert of a read; the immersive Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin; and Tombstone: The Earp Brothers, Doc Holliday, and the Vendetta Ride from Hell by Tom Clavin, its history meticulously researched and impeccably brought to life.

I did follow some expected paths, which led me to Bonnie Garmus’s Lessons in Chemistry and Neal Shusterman’s Scythe. And of course I had to read Colleen Hoover, just to see what all the fuss was about—and definitely jumped on the Hoover bandwagon after reading It Ends with Us. (Don’t expect me to stick with 2023 releases for my reading list. Too many books! Too little time!)

Veronica Roth is an ongoing favorite, so I caught up with her latest, reading Arch-Conspirator and Poster Girl (both great reads). Roth is in the unenviable position of knowing that every book she produces inevitably will be compared with the Divergent series, but what I like about reading her new stuff is seeing how she’s moved on and started taking chances. Not to mention that her Goodreads page is a lot of fun.

I have a few re-reads on my list this year, the most notable being The Snow Queen by Joan D. Vinge. I first read it in high school, and despite the decades, my affection for Tiamat and its complex and fascinating society is undimmed. Her writing is evocative and complex, and the society she built is incredibly believable.

Of course I made sure to have several feminist books on the list, including When She Woke, The Crane Husband, Dear Ijeawele, or A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions, and Lone Women. And I found some celebrity gems (not my usual jam), and I can heartily recommend Jada Pinkett Smith’s Worthy: The New York Times bestseller, her husband’s memoir, Will, Shannon Harris’s The Woman They Wanted: Shattering the Illusion of the Good Christian Wife, and Tina Fey’s absolutely hilarious Bossypants. I adored finding out that Sam Heughan is a hiker, and reading his reflections on life, acting, and hiking companions in Waypoints: My Scottish Journey.

Most of these books are in the running for my favorite, for a host of different reasons. But since I have to go with just one, here it is: Chain-Gang All-Stars. The excellent prose combines with inventive (and horrifying) plot to make for one satisfying, moving and eye-opening read.

I will add one caveat to this post: Goodreads is not good about faithfully adding everything I’ve read to this year’s list. (Either that, or I’m not doing it right, which is likely the problem.) I had to go hunting, and I know I missed several books. So next year’s list might have a few additions.

What was your favorite read of 2023? Do you stick to your genre, or do you read all over the library? Thoughts? Let me know!