I Never Knew the Purpose of Chinaware...Until I Met You
For we women actually test those of whom we allow to be touched by. Like fine chinaware, we test those whom we allow to handle us.
The Pastor said we women aren’t “lesser than” but like delicate fine chinaware—to be handled with care and gentleness. No matter how hard I attempt to put up the exterior shell, his words ring true when I'm with you.
I don't like that, in the middle of night, you can simply touch the arch of my back and instantly cause my heart to beat with more ease. Or that when I'm out in public, I easily put up my guard, but when you show up, I just as easily become less aware of my surroundings. Or that when I desperately attempt to be upset, you have a way of melting away the coldness that was intended for payback. Or that when I try to act more put-together than I am, you have a way of coming alongside and quietly protecting the vulnerabilities no one else sees.
You have an effect on me, no matter the exterior shell I wish to put up.
Husbands, continue to treat your wives like fine chinaware, because whether we like it or not—you have an effect on us. Thus the opposite can ring true.
Don't raise your voice at her when you’re angered. Don't treat her with contempt when you grow weary. Don't ignore her when she's in need of a hug. Don't look at your phone when she’s pouring out her heart about something subjectively labeled insignificant. Don't grow insensitive when you see her tears—again. Don't stop letting her know of her true value. When you do, she may not react readily, but inwardly she feels what it’s like to be placed in the hands of the one who never read her instructions : "handle with care."
Yeah, I don't like that you have that effect on me, because no matter how hard I try to put up the exterior, I kid myself...knowing that I was neither made to be handled nor dealt with like tupperware. I'm unashamed to say that I'm gentle and need to be carefully handled.
But be cautious in not misconstruing the message of my words. For I live in a culture in which the prevailing soundbites to be "stronger" are gravely misappropriated. Be strong? That we are. Like fine chinaware, we women test the hands of those whom we allow to handle us. You see...we can’t last in the hands of someone who is weak, clumsy, irresponsible, or unfocused. I'd argue that a husband's strength is reflected in the lack of brokenness, hopelessness, and weariness, revealed in the eyes of his wife.
Be strong? That we are. Be wise? Welp, that's another blog post...
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I, the Female, you the Male
And just as suddenly, I saw the unique difference between you and I. I, the female, and you, the male. And we, madly in love, blind to such beautiful variance.
When did it happen? The transition from best friend to lover to loner. I felt close to you. I felt as a significant twin, almost. And just as suddenly, I saw the unique difference between you and I. I, the female, and you, the male. And we, madly in love, blind to such beautiful variance. As the days rolled on, for whatever reason, the loneliness picked up too, and I saw that my thoughts, feelings, emotions could not be so easily reflected in you anymore. They were isolated, as though apart of an isolated experiment—only found on a distant country. And you, an adventurer, were constantly attempting to discover where the new wind blown from within me originated—but also coming short and resulting in the fatal, “maybe this is just how women are.”
Then our child came, and my emotions, thoughts, and feelings became that much more exacerbated. My ways, that much more differentiated from you. Yet, I needed you just the same. I admired you all the more. And I clung to you—in awe of you, an amazing creation fraught with intentional uniqueness molded by the hands of my Creator.
Though at times I felt lonely, I knew that you probably felt just as lonely too. I, the female, you, the male. Yet I wondered, “did your world seem to be constantly changing and evolving as mine?” It seemed that you simply grew into a mature man from being a boy; whereas I appeared to evolve into entirely different persons, depending on the season. I don’t remember my teenage self. Perhaps there is still apart of her there. But mostly, I see things, circumstances, responsibilities—and my life adjusts to such.
But Father, where is she deep down within. Many say that one must not lose oneself as one becomes older, and so often women do. But so much of what I’ve become is... myself. I wish not to go back. I simply wish to be seen at current face value and currently understood before the next life event causes a shift in change, just as easily. For me, I look in the mirror and smile at the new ways in which You’ve equipped my inner being to handle the multiple thoughts, feelings, and responsibilities rummaging toward me all at once. I gaze into her eyes and am amazed at her ability to be gentle, bold, fearless, quiet, outspoken, guarded, vulnerable, submissive, and in charge—in the span of one day. But moreso, I stand in awe at Your ability to make her feel things that no man can understand, while still granting her the strength to undertake tasks that no man can comprehend.
So what do I do now? In the nights in which it is just me and God. Where the world’s rationale provides little reprieve and my thoughts, feelings, and emotions are nowhere to be found upon discovery. Where do I go? Where do I look to? I’m not sure. But in the meantime, I think on the other side of heaven, it’ll be understood a little more closely. Perhaps the Lord made me like this—wives, mothers, grandmothers, women—so that we could understand that there are parts to God that we will never fully understand. That He has deep feelings that we will never fully comprehend. Just as His love is deeply incomprehensible, I wonder if He ever feels alone. I know theologically inconceivable considering the Trinity. But I wonder if He/They/One ever wish to be known just as I am known. If He does—then these feelings are not in vain. In fact, indeed, there is One who truly understands. Therefore, I end these thoughts abruptly due to the peace brought about through the transaction of this one hopeful notion.
I, the female, and you the male. And now, more than ever, in the midst of seeing our differences, I realize I’m not alone. Difference shines light on my deficit, and I see how I need him/You even more. Thank you Father.