Several years ago I said that the number one social crisis for our children’s generation will be the redefinition of what it means to be male and female. I could not have been more wrong. The schedule has been moved up and the crisis is now. 
I am not the first to comment on the way our generation has so quickly, without much debate or ceremony, dispatched the foundational understanding of what it means to be a man and a woman. It isn’t simply that things are getting generally swapped around and confused, but that that we are all running headlong in a particular direction, toward the weak, the impotent, the effeminate.
It is always good to stop and define the difference between what is true femininity and what is “effeminate”. True femininity is known by its strength and wisdom, boldness and courage. Jael fastening Sisera’s head to the ground with a tent peg is an example of glorious Biblical femininity. A woman obsessed with shiny stuff without ever forming a cohesive thought in her pretty little head, who jumps on a chair and giggle-squeals at the sight of a spider is “effeminate.” Effeminacy is nothing more than a parody of the feminine and is gag-inducing whether its host is male or female.
However, it is “the effeminate” that is both idolized and fetishized in our society. The ideal effeminate female is “kept”, provided for, fawned over, the focal point of everyone’s attention. To everyone else, she is functionally useless for more than a few minutes pleasure, but to herself she is attractive, sensual, living in a self-absorbed world of instant gratification. The effeminate female is not so concerned about being a mother, or a wife, or pursuing any other sort of productivity. She may be fertile in all sorts of ways, but does not care to plant any seeds and is therefore functionally impotent.
It is easy to see then, how everyone, male and female alike, wants to become her. Who wouldn’t want to become the subject of everyone’s fantasy? Especially if that comes with zero responsibility and no expectation to work or sacrifice yourself for someone else. Real masculine and feminine usefulness, strength and fertility is not as enticing as the desire to live like one of those little spayed poodles that is kept in a purse.
For most women, it is a short trip to go from true femininity to being a flighty, effeminate twit. And there are plenty of men who will put up with that. But our generation has made the route a little easier on men as well. If they like, they may choose to live as a homosexual – and be another man’s kept toy, impotent and irresponsible. Or, if they have enough money, they can become the effeminate female goddess through a series of surgeries. But all the same, the goal is a life of infertility, passivity and self-gratification. No one gets a sex change so that they can become either a hard-working mom or a wise old grandmother. They all want to be sixteen-year-old nitwits.
But going back to my first point, I thought that it would take longer to get to this point. I thought for sure that there would be some stalwart institutions of manhood that would protect some definition of masculinity. Yet, when even testosterone-fueled ESPN gives “courage” awards in back-to-back years to a sodomite and a lipstick-wearing eunuch, it is obvious that the clock has run out.
In the face of this incredible spiritual bankruptcy, I am determined as the father to both a girl and a boy to double down and train them in such a way that they know and love their glorious God-given identities. I want my daughter to grow up to be more like Jael and less like Kim Kardashian. I want my son to understand the immense weight of duty that comes with being a man, but not in such a way that he runs and hides from it, but embraces it.
I want them both to know that sex is responsibility. Sex is calling. Sex is identity.
I want both my son and daughter to experience real masculine affection, and never fail to show it to them.
I want them both to be comfortable in their respective worlds – for my son to be at home in the world of men, and my daughter in the world of women.
I want them both to see their father loving a woman who is not a twit, or a nitwit, or a poodle in a bag. But a faithful woman of self-sacrificial strength and honor and integrity.
The good news is that all of this sexual confusion has no future, because sin has no future. It also has no future because it is impotent. That is what programmers call a “feature”, not a “bug.”