MASCULINE MATTERS

WHO CAN FIND A VIRTUOUS MAN?

IS THERE ANY SUCH ANIMAL?

There's a great deal of talk these days about men and women being equal in the sight of God.  Rather than man being the head of the household, (deserving of our respect and honor and ultimately the authority in the home), he is simply a buddy, an equal in the partnership of matrimony.  That being the case, I'd say the passage in Proverbs 31 should apply to him too, don't you think?

So, let's look at this a bit differently:

A husband of noble character who can find?  He is worth far more than rubies.  His wife has full confidence in him and lacks nothing of value.  He brings her good, not harm, all the days of his life. He selects wool and flax and works with eager hands.  That's sounds a lot like my husband except he doesn't do much selecting of wool and flax.  However, he does do a lot of grocery shopping and selecting of apples, cukes and cantelopes.  Thus far, I'd say I've got me a keeper.  selahV 

HE MAKES A LOUSY CHAUViNIST

Most chauvinists seek to degrade women to elevate themselves.  Unfortunately all caustic remarks ever do is draw attention to the inferiority and cynicism resting within a man's heart and mind.  Demeaning witticisms and fake endearments escape with every breath some men take.  That's why my husband makes a crumby chauvinist.

He doesn't make snide comments about women or use cunning innuendo to drive home a point.  His words are what they are...no more no less.  He doesn't sit around thinking of ways to manipulate a conversation to his advantage.  In fact, he is almost naive to the point of embarrassing when others are trying to manipulate him.  (Except with me...he's already got my number.)

He doesn't find it beneath him to "do women's work."  He's not above scrubbing a toilet or picking up a pair of pantyhose when he stops on the way home from work.  He isn't bothered by what others think when he lets his granddaughters comb his thinning hair into peaks and dress it with bows.  And he is not the least bit concerned about having me handle the checkbook, nor does he worry when others tease him that his wife "handles the pursestrings".  People can think what they want to think and he goes on being Bob, just like he is---without a moment's hesitation or regret.

He doesn't diss his mother or tell mother-in-law jokes.  He supports his daughter to the hilt.  He doesn't care that everyone knows he'll run at the drop of a hat to do something she asks of him, nor that she owns a gigantic place in his heart.  He does not argue with women or curry any favors with empty flattery.

It takes little respect for women and less for oneself to be chauvinistic.  It takes arrogance and complete disregard of the way God loves women to set oneself on a pedastal of dictatorship.  In fact it takes little effort at all to be less than the man God called man to be when He gave him "woman" for companionship and help.  Some men aren't able to sacrifice their egos for their spouses, let alone their lives.  My husband makes a lousy chauvinist because he never was a slacker at anything and his ego was parked somewhere long ago.  That makes this lousy feminist quite happy.  selahV

[© SelahV Today, 2008]   

MEN!

Those creatures are absolutely beyond comprehension sometimes!  They are like waffles!  I read that in HomeLife Magazine last winter.  It said they are compartmentalized. (did I spell that right?)  That's what I remember.

This is what I think.

Their lives, emotions, thoughts and actions are all neatly set inside those little squares.  Work, family, God, stresses--everything has its place.  They don't overlap.

Without we women (the syrup and butter) they would be bland, tasteless crunchy bread.  Nothing much more than funny looking toast.  We women add to their lives.  We flavor it.  We soften their hard edges and make life more palatable.  But what about us?  Why can't we be waffles?   

Why must our emotions be all tangled up like "spaghetti"? (that's what the writer of the Homelife article said women were.)  Spaghetti.  Everything in our lives affects the other.  Can't pull one noodle out of place without disturbing the rest.  That's me, even if it's not you.  So when my waffle husband finds football more inviting than a conversation with me, I just cuddle up with myself and let him be him and me be me.   And when he wants something to sweeten his waffle, I bake him some cookies.   

MEN OF INFLUENCE

THE MOST INFLUENTIAL MEN IN MY LIFE.

FIRST, MY HUSBAND.

Yesterday he came home from work.  Perched atop his head was his worn dark blue (now salty grey) Boston Red Sox cap stacked upon his more presentable red Boston Red Sox cap.  I had to have a picture.  It looked comical to me.

"Okay," I teased, "I'll bite.  Why are you wearing two caps?"  He smiled that wonderful amusing grin of his and chuckled.  "I know, I know." I giggled.

The work cap was for his construction job in which he got dusty dirty and grimey; and he worked there till three.  The good cap was for his new part-time maintenance job for the Christian Academy where he began working at 3:30 till 7:00 each night.  We laughed.  That was exactly it.

My husband is a man of many hats.  A comical one for graciously amusing his granddaughters.  Then there's those of character, integrity, tenderness and strength.

When I think of the various hats he wears, I think of the sphere of influence each hat represents in relationship with his world.  Minister, teacher, mentor and friend.  Husband, father, grampa and son.  Brother and stranger.  Christian and neighbor.  So much makes up a man.  Far more than the frogs and snails and puppydog tails he was as a boy.  My man is my foundation.  He's the band of protection for my emotional benders, the power in my female weaknesses, and counselor in spiritual direction.  He grounds me.  I'm a butterfly in the wind.  He's the blossoms in my journey across life's meadow.  He's the comforting arms in my grief and the embrace in my joys.

The second most influencial man in my life was and is my son, Chad.  Chad loved his hats.  When he died, he had a closet full of them.  He had two favorite Boston Red Sox caps--old, tattered and salty like his dad's.   

Then there were the ones he wore when he worked.  Pictured left on the bottom is one embroidered with "CHAD THE TILE GUY".  Chad owned his own tile business.  He began his business with the name of Petersen's ProTile.  However, as he worked and gained a reputation for his work, he was nicknamed, "Chad--the tile guy".  So Chad changed the name of his business and was known all over town for his perfectionist quality work in tilesetting.  He tiled McDonald's, WhataBurger, El Chicos and hundreds of homes.  As he worked, he wore a different hat.  It is the one pictured on top in the photo above.  It has an embroidered patch with these words:  "His Death Gave Me Life. Romans 5:8"

To me, my son's life was more than a blessing.  It was a privilege to be his mom.  His optimistic spirit and go-getter attitude did more for me than a bouquet of flowers on a rainy Monday afternoon.  His comical nature brings me laughter at every memory.  His tenderness and patience with his daughters fuels the same characteristics in me.  His hospitality and friendliness lends me boldness and generosity when I'd rather retreat and hold on to myself.  His tolerance was contagious and infected the very fiber of my being with an incurable virtue.  His faith in Jesus, though flawed in his walk, never wavered in his heart.  His pride in his father and love of his mother, will meet us at the Heavenly mansion our Savior is preparing for us all in eternity.

There is an irony in the verse Chad chose to put on his hat.  For in Christ's death, Chad was given Life.  And with Chad's death, is a Life I can only endure because of Christ's life as a man.  Influence.  There's alot to be said for the men in one's life.  [copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2007]

BOYS WILL BE BOYS AND MEN WILL BE BOYS, TOO

It's hard to be a man in a man's world.

Men have different ways of dealing with each other...conversing. Even their analogies are different than women's. They are born to battle. To compete. To win.

They think differently, too. When I ask my husband a question, he almost invariably answers with a question. I find myself actually answering his question and never really getting an answer to mine. We laugh about it alot. Sometimes I say, "Can I ask you a question?" He replies, "Why, what do you need?" Lately, I start with, "Honey, I want to ask you a question, but when I do, I want you to answer the question with a yes or a no." He replies, "Why?" I begin laughing and he begins laughing and we know that it is because of the "trap syndrome".

All men have it. (Maybe I shouldn't say all, but from all the ladies I talk to? Most men have it.) They think anytime a woman asks a man a question that they are setting a trap. They think we are baiting them; that the first question is going to lead to a second. That the second leading to a "Gotcha!" It may stem from Eve giving the fruit to Adam and telling him to eat. After that, man could never trust a woman again, I guess.

This makes it really hard to communicate in a man's world unless one becomes like a man. Well, I've tried that too, but I don't like it. I don't like answering questions with questions. What if you ask the wrong question? Will you ever get the answer to your first question? It seems if one is to be part of a man's world, one must think like a man. But then we have another problem. Ego.

Men have bigger egos than women. They have a different kind of pride. We women have no pride. We get lost; we stop and ask for directions. We get sick; we go see a doctor. Our pride is in communicating effectively, nurturing effectively, and feeling right about what we feel right about. A man's pride often is in communicating to win a debate, avoid a debate, accelerate a debate or confirm they are correct in a debate. I might be wrong here. Just a woman's observations, ya see?

Anyway, most of my understanding stems from experience in trying to communicate with one of the most humble men on this earth for over four decades. It includes trying to win the approval or at least one word or phrase of approval from the highest authority of man given me before my husband--my dad. It includes surviving as the only girl among two elder biological brothers, one elder stepbrother, and one younger stepbrother. It includes multiple relationships with male step-cousins who inhabited the same house as I lived in for the majority of my teenage years. I also had the honor to raise a little boy through every stage of his life and watch him grow into one of the most loving, nurturing, boy/men I'll ever know.

So, I do have a bit of experience with communicating with boys, men and also, the inescapable inability to communicate on multiple occasions. I've also been afforded the grand prize of watching my stepmother's total failure at communicating anything she felt important. (Which after a spell, she felt nothing she had to offer was worthy of communicating, so she settled in to her sewing bench and used up millions of miles of thread to communicate with material.)

In this world dominated by men, and now infiltrated by women, I'm afraid some of us, who have timidly or boldly dared to venture beyond our sewing benches, are still talking with boys instead of men. This is the dilemma we ladies find ourselves in when trying to exist in the world in which some misguidedly say we are equal. Therefore we communicate as mothers to the boys, daughters to our husbands, and sisters to most of the men--and women only to women.

Describing the relationship a sister has with brothers provides more examples than this one blog could endure. Suffice it to say, I was forced to play centerfield without the benefit of a glove, pushed into more closets during games of hide-and-seek and left for hours so they could do what boys do--be boys. And lately, while I am finally beginning to meet some "real" men whose egos are firmly rooted in the security of their Father's Word, I'm also struggling to see my way out of this darn dark closet. And only a woman could relate to what junk is stored in here. [copyrighted, selahV Today, 2006]  [NOTE OF INTEREST: I wrote this blog a long time ago.  When I was on blogspot.  Thought it worth posting again since most of my readers now, never knew I existed then[

IT'S UP TO THE LADIES

TAKE HIM BY THE HAND.

Get his attention.  And tell him you've made an appointment for him to get a vaccination for Shingles.  It's one of those things that he'll never know how much he should thank you for doing for him.  But it doesn't matter.  You DO NOT WANT him to get Shingles--not just because it is horribly painful and will cause your helpmate to experience incredible discomfort for weeks on end.  No.  There's a method to my madness.  I love my sisterhood of female friends.  I know firsthand what the Shingles do to your system.  You DO NOT WANT your hubby to get them.  Unless he has failed to show you any compassion and empathy at all for the times you have suffered in silence with some malady of your own.   (Then you might not care if he gets the Shingles.)  But if you are a practicing Christian, and want to grow in the Spirit, you will not wish this horrendous blight on anyone, let alone your helpmate.

Pass this little post along and make sure you read the link to my new blog:  HEALTH MATTERS.  Why?  Because health does matter.  Without it all else in life is unsatisfactory and discontentment.  selahV

STRENGTH OF A MAN

"Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength."

So what is real strength?  I believe real strength is seen when power to crush is cradled in a gentle embrace.  Gentleness is when brute force is able but willingly submitted to God as its source.

"We confide in our strength without boasting of it; we respect that of others, without fearing it."  Letter to William Carmichael and William Short; June 30, 1793.

The Apostle Paul wrote that his strength is made perfect in weakness.  And to me that is a spirit broken, then yielded and submitted to the Father's power to piece it together again. A man with real strength can be meek without timidity--powerfilled without boasting of it.  According to Henry Ibsen, "The strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone." The Enemy of the People; 1882.

I have witnessed that kind of strength in my husband.  Patrick Henry is quoted as saying, "Give me liberty or give me death."  My husband has stood alone in the midst of rebuke, misunderstandings and criticisms on more than one occasion.  His actions said, "Give me Jesus or give me nothing."  When he could have produced evidence against his accusers, he didn't.  When he could have exerted his influence and exposed his adversaries from a pulpit, he didn't.  When he could have defended himself, he didn't.  To me, that is strength.  That is a man with trusting faith in a faithful God.

But the true test of his strength was not in his refraining from taking action.  It was in the releasing of all power and evidence of his defense to His Lord.  He never lost one night's sleep.  He never missed one step in his ministerial call to visit, to encourage, to edify.  He held no grudges.  He fostered no bitterness.  Even when it cost him his job, his financial security and pride.  Some called that weak.  And Biblically they are correct.  For in his weakness God was his strength.  Sometimes I would get so frustrated with him.  I'd want to run to his defense.  I'd want him to stand up for his rights and face his accusers.  Oddly enough, I've learned that he did just that.  His silence said, "I am for peace, but when I speak they are for war." {Ps.120:7  He left them to war on their own.

Often we see strength as power unleashed.  But it is just the opposite.  Strength is power controlled.  Even James says the tongue cannot be tamed by any man. Oswald Chambers says, "The tongue and brain are under our control, not God's."  But, "to bridle the tongue does not mean to hold your tongue; that might mean "If I speak, I would say something!"  It means to have the tongue under the control of a disciplined heart; that tongue need ever apologize." Chambers also said, "...the great test of a man's character is his tongue."  The core strength of a man's soul is his character, his integrity.  Without character all other parts of the man's strength is merely undisciplined, untrained muscles.

According to Jesus, what we say illustrates the inner thinking of our hearts.  And Chambers says, "to 'confess' Christ means to say, not only with the tongue, but with every bit of our life, that Jesus has come into our flesh."  And we all know the wisest man--other than Jesus--who wrote, "there is a time to speak and a time to keep silence."   I think the wise man is the man who knows which to do when.  selahV  [copyrighted, SelahV Today, 2007] 

OVER OR UNDER?

I read a cute quote one time.  Bear with me if I misquote it.

"The only time a woman can change a man is when he is in diapers."

I cracked up when I read that!  It's so true.  When we ladies first fall in love with the man of our dreams, we think he is perfect.  As time goes by we find more and more things his mother failed to teach him.  So we set about trying to correct the problems.  However, any woman who has been married for over 30 years will attest that men DO NOT change because we women make them, nag them or beg them.  They may change a habit or two--in time, but it will be in their time.  And even then, they must see the change as important to self-preservation--not our peace of mind or fanciful whims.

My husband has changed alot over the past 41 years we've been married.  I think it is because I started small.  It took us several months to agree how the toilet paper should be placed on the holder.  Over or under?  That was the question.  I preferred over, he preferred under.  We place it over today.  He agreed we should do it my way.  I could claim a victory from that tiny battle, but I'm not really sure I won much in the way of spoils of war.  You see, I'm the only one who ever replaces an empty card-paper tube with a full roll.

As another quote goes, "the proof is in the pudding"; and that may be true.  But one thing is certain, there ain't much proof in the throne room. [copyrighted, selahVtoday, 2007]