Strength

There are certain adjectives that are more emblematic of one gender than the other. For an example, the word "elegance" carries with it a more feminine connotation while a word like "rugged" carries a masculine tone. So in society, we have come up with adjectives to describe our obvious and pronounced differences. Within a marriage, these differences become complementary and thus, a working partnership is formed. During the beginning parts of my marriage, I learned and discovered these differences between my wife and I, practicing them and understanding them. I'd understood my wife to be compassionate and gentle, intelligent and talented, yet submissive and passive. I've viewed myself as bold, someone willing to take risks, and hopefully a symbol of strength for my family as the protector and provider.

So till now, I've always viewed "strength" as embodied by myself, the male. The word is synonymous with others like "power" and "intensity" and "force". All undoubtedly masculine characteristics.

It started as a comical thought. As I stood nervously at the head of my wife as she was pushing with all her might, our first born son, I thought to myself, "there is no way I could do what she is doing" And so I felt sympathetic yet thankful that the burden didn't fall on me. Since the fall of man, God has given the role of painful childbirth to the wife, and the pain of labor and toil to the man. Fine by me, I dont mind the 9-5 so long as I dont have to do "that". The delivery went fine, my wife pushed out a healthy baby boy like a champ and off we went to being parents. But what started as a comical thought has really opened my eyes towards something so evident yet hardly noticed. In the past few days, my wife has morphed into a terminator of sorts. An indestructible nuturing, breastfeeding, loving machine that I just cannot keep up with. As our baby suffered through a bout of Jaundice, sleepless nights would follow... filled with unending crying. Yet even in this short time, my wife exhibited unending patience and nurture. Despite the obvious pain of delivery, it is I not she whose body eventually broke down at 5am and crashed into sleep. She nurtured and cared, yet still felt guilty that she wasn't able to comfort more, our jaundice baby. Well the baby is feeling much better and we realize that he wasn't the devil of the first few nights but he was actually in alot of discomfort. Just a few days, but in these days, I realized that it wasn't me that was the strong one so to speak.

It's amazing the strength of a mother... and ultimately the potential strength of a woman. We assigned the word "strength" without debate to the male gender for obvious reasons. Feminists groups have taken that to mean that if men are strong, then obviously women are weak. Yet there is a quiet strength, and a humble and gentle spirit waiting to be tapped. It is a strength hidden and paralyzed by the insecurities and misplaced ideas of worth that so many women carry in their lives. They fight to be something other than what God intended them to be. For every Esther or Deborah (a queen and judge), who assume obvious roles of strength, there is a Ruth or a Mary, who made sure their legacies and contributions where made known through the gentle actions never heralded at the time. And as I watch my wife care for my son, I know that it is her love that will be the backbone of our family. During our tough times, it will be her unconditional love that serve as our foundation... whether she knows it or not. Then with such support and strength, it allows me to prayerfully ask to be the guider, the director... and one who can rebuke and correct, yet empower and encourage our kids to be impactful Christ followers who really make a difference for Him.