I have been humbled to receive your answers in the mail. I assumed I’d know all the responses and that nothing would catch me off guard, but we are so ridiculously and wonderfully made. One of the small lessons I’ve picked up on this search, is that while each of our struggles are uniquely different, our hearts seem to be singing the same song. We’re each just singing different parts of the song and all at the same time so it’s harder to notice. I won’t be diving deep into this “theory”, just yet. Because frankly I wouldn’t be so sure I’d surface. The depth of a woman’s heart is bottomless, me thinks. However, I wanted to make a few profound (at least to me) observations.
Observation number one. There is something to be said about a woman who is knee deep in something she is passionate about. Maybe I over did it on the ‘something’ but she is outstandingly different then her peers. She stands a little taller and has an amazing pair of rose colored glasses. She doesn’t wear them everyday, but she at least owns a pair and looks great in them. Just think, if I can pick this up in her writing, I’m confident boys can smell it. This says to me, we should seek passion and pursue it. As long as said passion isn’t, let’s say… stripping.
Awful joke. Moving on.
Write down on a piece of paper what you enjoy doing. Or maybe what you’re good at, even a hobby that you’re awful at, but really want to be good at. For me, this is running. The awful at it part, anyway… definitely not the passionate part, unless you count how passionate I am about not wanting to be running as I’m running.
My serious answers would be writing, photography, and traveling. Yes, these are a few of my favorite things. I add a couple years to my life as I read that sentence over and over. (For the sake of not appearing like a sloth, I did not include my forbidden love of sleeping in this list.) When it comes to the pursuit of my above mentioned happiness, I would say, I am attacked often and from every angle.
I write good. Who even says that? Not authors, they would say, they write ‘well’. The dream of writing my own book is even a prideful, yet embarrassing thing to announce. I’m implying I think people care about what I have to say and that it would be worth a hard earned hour of pay for them to purchase. So, I shouldn’t write. And I go months or even years doing, (or is it not doing?), just that.
Photography. You must know, that I could never shoot a wedding. This object on my list goes hand in hand with the other love of my life, vacations. I really like photography when the things I’m taking pictures of don’t need any editing or an explanatory caption. (But because of the whole liking to write thing, you’re probably going to get a caption.) This is why I come back from Haiti with 500 pictures on my memory card, or how I managed to take 52 pictures in seven minutes of the sun rising over the rim of the Grand Canyon.
I could speak of these moments all day. But, you don’t want to hear it, let alone read it. And only the really lucky people get to make money doing it. So it gets buried by a 9 to 5er. There is a Donald Miller quote that I’ve kept with me for sometime, it goes something like this… “The devil’s greatest trick is not to have us falling into some great sin, but rather have us wasting time.” I might’ve butchered the quote because I was too lazy to look it up, however it falls in line behind the entire book of Ecclesiastes. Solomon, the wise, says 1453 times (I made that part up) that everything is meaningless and a ‘chasing after the wind’. I picture us all running around chasing the wind and not in a good way, in a very exhausting, out of breath way.
Back to the paved road we were on… I think you can see a difference in the woman who has started her own business or who is making a difference in the lives of the kids she’s pouring into. A woman doing what God has gifted her to be doing is like a lily among the fields; easy to point out, be picked, and then put in a vase to be marveled at and delighted in.
My next discovery has been our uncanny ability to find beauty in most things, unless of course we’re speaking of ourselves… then it’s a mystery. I won’t stay at this point long, because I don’t have a solution yet. Not even close. Just observing for now, though I’m pretty sure a guy can smell this too. Their choosing of a mate just depends on which one of us stinks less. Most of us are good, or think we are, at covering up this smell. I was told before and not nicely, that I have a ‘go away’ sign on my forehead when I walk into a room of men. This was not his choice of words, I took it upon myself to remove the profanities, I don’t even recall who told me this, but regardless I was blown away. I can’t think of a time in my life that I’ve ever been “secure” enough to think that highly of myself. Not even right out of high school when I was sadly, the closest I’ll ever be to having wash board abs. But after some examination of myself and others, I realize we’re (most days, that is) good at faking it. And if we’re having an extra hard time faking it, we’ll just critique the other women in the room. Don’t you point that finger of judgment at me, you KNOW what I’m saying is true.
Now where was I going? Oh yes, we stink of insecurity but we wear a perfume to mask it, though heaven forbid we run out or forget to put it on one day. Sometimes at the bottom of a really good self loathing session I couldn’t find a teaspoon of beauty if I had all day to look in the mirror. But, in two seconds of walking into a room of some of my favorite ladies, I can spot it in their faces, outfits and adorable handbags.
My next and greatest gender generalization of the day is that God pursues every one of us. He has fallen for us and fallen hard. Do you feel pursued by God? Romanced by God? Every single answer to that question has been an unwavering yes. This tells me one of two things: we’re really good at saying all the right things or there is an amazing thing to be unwrapped here. I picture the most tragic of love triangles playing out. I can recognize it, because I have lived it. We want be pursued by Johnny Doe. And Johnny Doe might be a swell guy, but if I’ve learned anything from our responses, it’s that even the best guy can still fall a little short on a bad day. I’m being nice here. Some guys fall a lotta short on their very best day (another day, another book).
God is the guy we call, after we just got stood up for the Prom. And He’s at our house in two seconds because He was really waiting outside in the rain the whole time for you to wise up and call. It’s ridiculous yet we do it everyday. We can all recognize He’s there, always ready to swoop in and clean up the mess from some careless (or even oblivious) boy. We know this. And I’m afraid to admit, we probably take advantage of this. Actually, I’m sure of it. I think husband or no husband… when we start to get pumped about God as our Prom date we’ll be able to toss the waterproof mascara.
I think I might’ve hit my word quota for the afternoon, because I am unable to wrap this up cleverly. I used whatever creative juices I had left on my Prom date analogy. But, I wanted to thank those of you who have participated so far, yell at those who haven’t replied yet and encourage those who might stumble upon this blogish ramble.
I also wanted to announce that I’ve had some cream of the crop men agree to having their brains picked for a good cause. If I pull off a book one day, I would LOOOOVE to unveil a ‘men tell all’ sort of chapter. I know we can be insane, emotional and a little reckless at times, but what I really want to know is how to trick a guy into loving me regardless. I kid. But really.