Why I’m not applauding Bruce Jenner

I’ve been told I can be pretty liberal for a Christian. My husband often pokes fun at how passionate I get over issues that don’t even involve me, especially issues that many Christians stand against, (like giving service to gay couples at bakeries), and he will shake his head and smile at how loudly opinionated I get.

I have several gay friends who I absolutely love, atheist friends I have fun having conversations with, and co-workers I’d die for despite their very opposite line of beliefs. I don’t protest in the streets against civil rights, I don’t gawk at tattoos and piercings or judge those who drink wine at work functions. I believe in women’s rights in the workplace and respect for all races. I believe that everyone has the right to worship however, even if those religions contradict with mine. Liberal? Fine. I like to call it human.

And because that’s who I am, some will expect me to applaud Bruce–or Caitlyn–Jenner.

Consider me on the other side of the fence with this one.

Vanity Fair just published this magazine, with Bruce Jenner completely dolled up and feminized now, announcing that he’s a woman named Caitlyn, and that he’s always felt it within himself to become a woman.

bruce jenner

Bloggers, journalists, and the whole of social media has already been blood thirsty over this subject. I’m kind of late to the party, I know. I’m sure that as soon as that picture hit the shelves there were thousands of writers and commentators and Jane Doe’s salivating at the chance to shoot down the first Conservative that sauntered into the opinion party with a line of thinking sure to ruffle some feathers. Because in this day and age, don’t you DARE call something wrong if that something makes someone out there HAPPY. Because happy is the name of the game nowadays, no matter what.

Just do what makes you happy….right?

Now I’m not dismissing the fact that we should love–always. We should be tolerant and kind and understanding of pain or difference in beliefs. There’s no excuse to not love every single person who graces this earth.

But here’s the question we come to. Where do we draw the line?


When does our obligation to be politically correct and tolerant cross the boundaries into celebration of wickedness or the absurd turning away from what’s moral and right? When do we lose our right to freedom of religion or morality simply because those who don’t have religion get offended or call us bigots and bully us into silence? Where do we draw the line?

Like I said, I have friends from all backgrounds and belief systems and my favorite part about each of them is how much they respect my beliefs and my ways of stating what I think without hurting them in the process. But unfortunately not everyone in today’s world is like that. We are nervous to offend. Scared to hurt. Absolutely terrified to be a bigot, or to be intolerant, or heartless. I live in a world where “I’m a Christian” or “I’m Mormon” or “I’m conservative” pretty much sounds like, “I’m a gun-toting, ignorant hypocrite who hates anyone who doesn’t go to church on Sundays.” Sorry if that sounds harsh, but it’s truer than you think.

John Boehner

We are slowly transforming and changing as a society. Our entertainment industry cheers for those who step outside of traditional values, heralding those who change their genders or advocate for the freedom to do “whatever one chooses to do” as “heroes”. Because we’re told that those kinds of people are “real” and “honest” and “brave”. And the rest of us, who feel that the things Bruce Jenner is going through might be a need for intervention or help or might simply just be wrong–we’re just bigots, or religious nuts, or pigs or…shall I go on?

It’s a real illness in our world. But we won’t heal it, simply because too many people feel that there’s nothing to heal. As long as everyone is happy–even superficially happy–what’s the need to butt in?

WASHINGTON - APRIL 25:  Pro-choice activists shout slogans as they take part in the March For Women's Lives April 25, 2004 in Washington, DC. Hundreds of thousands of activist demonstrated for abortion rights and opposition to the Bush Administration's policies on reproductive health issues.  (Photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images)

Jesus himself butt into the lives of others, calling people out when they walked a crooked path, yet breaking bread with them at the same time and reminding them of His Father’s love. Jesus himself cared so much about those around him that he couldn’t bear to be silent. He loved his friends too much to just accept things as they are or to hide His light from them.

We need to love like that.

jesus turning tables

I refuse to applaud for anything and everything because that’s not being true to what is right.

Those who have a crisis of identity or a crisis of self image needs more than public approval. I refuse to applaud for those who have lost sight of who they truly are, much like an anorexic sees a falsely overweight reflection. I refuse to clap my hands when my rights are smothered to appease the feelings of those who have lost their way all for self-gratification in the here and now. I’d rather advocate for help to those who need it. I’d rather urge people to look out for those who might need prayer or guidance or assurance in their self worth. I’d rather see certain things as a terrible trial of this life and love and understand those who literally have the burden of that on their shoulders until they die. And if that makes me a bigot, then consider me the most heartfelt, well-meaning, honest bigot you’ve ever known.

I’m called to love Bruce Jenner. But I’m not called to give a standing ovation to whatever he chooses to do.

Of course we have the duty to love. But love is much greater than standing idly by or not expressing an opinion in fear of being called unkind or hypocritical.

Love has a light.

And for as long as I’m breathing I’ll believe it also has a voice.

There’s no such thing as being ‘drunk in love’, Beyonce: And our kids need to learn that.

I must be getting old.

Because more and more our society surprises me. And not in a good way.

The other night one of the anchors at the station that I work at came in with her I-Pod and a wide-eyed expression.

“Have you heard the song ‘Drunk in Love’ from Beyonce yet?” she asked me. No, I hadn’t. In fact, I tend to be horrible with song names, especially when 95 percent of mainstream music all sounds the same anyway.

“Well, don’t!” she warned before I could say anything. “It’s the most explicit song I’ve ever heard. And that’s saying something.”

Well, here’s something to learn about me. If you tell me not to do something, I’m like a toddler with a hot stove. I’ll touch it. And then I’ll regret it within seconds. So, like clockwork, I punched the song title into youtube and could barely get through the entire video–complete with lyrics–before I exited out of the tab and realized my jaw had gone slack. I knew mainstream culture was headed down an ugly path with sexual innuendos and half-naked advertisements and rappers going off about drugs and clubs and trigger-happy gangs. But still, time and again, the media and society prove to me that, oh just you wait–it can and WILL get so much worse.


I decided I’d never listen to that song again. Until I heard it tonight after stepping into a store on my break to look around and I almost got whacked in the face with the glass door. The kid ahead of me, no older than seventeen, let it fall behind him even though I entered right after him and his blond girlfriend. The couple held a phone between the two of them that played that darn song again and as I walked slowly through the racks and aisles I could hear them chattering over the music and making a mess out of the spring dress aisle. They laughed and more than once I overheard him call her a name no woman should ever be called. When they were in view I could tell she was getting annoyed with him and pushed him a couple times when he touched her from behind and told her she was acting dumb. Drunk in love.

The scene played out perfectly to the music I think.

And somewhere, underneath the annoyance that had built up since getting hit by the door he failed to hold open, I felt a hint of sadness that our kids, some as young as five and others as old as me, are being taught what love is by the lyrics of songs like these. They’re being shown what love is in movie theaters and on billboards and reality TV.



And the music of the world is loud.

Chivalry slowly dies with each generation as ladies forget how to be ladies and as gentleman are no longer instructed to open the door. Girls are being instructed by these lyrics to raise the hemlines of skirts and put up with being used and slobbered over like a steak because THAT is how you get love. Boys are being told to take control, to seek after sex whenever it’s wanted, and to mistreat their mothers, their girlfriends, and their future wives. Girls are subtly told to look up to the women who are photoshopped on magazines and who belt out sassy tunes about “giving it all up” while boys are told girls SHOULD look that way…and should give it up.

Do I sound old-fashioned? If the answer you came up with is yes, than that proves to me how far we’ve fallen. I don’t know why respecting ourselves and striving for love that respects and strengthens and empowers us has become a vintage antique on a dusty shelf. 

Even Heavenly Father knew this time would come, though. It’s something we all have to prepare for. In Isaiah 5:20 it says, “Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter.”


Bitter, drunk love. I couldn’t help but watch these teenagers chat alongside those lyrics as I browsed the store, wondering about the voice of his mother or the advice of her father. Perhaps they were taught everything right and the world just became too loud. Perhaps they were taught only by the world and no one else. Or maybe things have become so perverted, so mangled and distorted–that there’s nothing out of the ordinary with singing along to, “Can’t keep your eyes off my *****, daddy. Drunk in love, I want you.”

I’m not a mother yet and I can’t imagine the difficulties of raising a child in a world that no longer whispers, but screams. I don’t know everything there is to know about child rearing or advising or guiding and I’m not here to say that I do. But I do know that Satan is attacking everything that Heavenly Father put into place. Family. Marriage. Love. Kindness.

And I know that the only way to not be for it is to be against it. Dress against it. Listen against it. Speak against it. Teach your kids against it. Walk against it.

Because we’re falling, and fast. Yes, there’s good in the world. Of course there is. But we still have far to go as society is in rapid decline within the media and within our culture.

There should be more boys opening doors. There should be more girls demanding respect by what they say and wear and do. There should be more role models to look towards other than pop stars in bikinis and actors with three women on their arms. There should be more love–the real kind of love that is slowly becoming old-fashioned and out-of-date. 


There’s no such thing as being “drunk in love” like the song states. There’s no such thing as love that comes from one-night stands or “smoking all night” or giving in to something that’s so plainly wrong. There’s no such thing as happiness through defilement. 

The scary thing is– the world and all things that tear holes in the fabric of truth know that those messages aren’t real. But it wants you to be so “drunk” that you forget it..

And it wants our kids to never learn it.