Friday, September 08, 2006
I was all set to defend my femininity today. It’s taken a beating lately on a couple of sites. I had the women and men can be gentle and still change the starter on a 1967 Ford Mustang contention.
A man seems to me to be more manly when he is on the floor playing Barbie with his little girl then pulling an engin. I’m tired of the questioning of whether Christian men are manly and are the songs tough enough. As I said I was ready to post a picture of myself in a dress and go on about how I sew and stuff, how I’m working on making my daughters room a princess cowgirl room. I was going to say I have about twenty tubes of lip stick and I collect statues of Eeyore. He’s my favorite one.
Then I read Codepoke’s post. I stopped and looked around to find something to do because doing is good. I began cleaning out some boxes that I have yet to unpack. Yes it’s been months but the loss of my desk has hindered me a bit. I found some interesting things that show a some of who I am.
The things in the picture don’t define me, I define me.
I also found two obituaries one a brilliant aunt, she was trapped in her body in a cruel turn of events by ALS her wonderful ability to speak taken away. When she read Shakespeare the entire class sat silently enthraled. The other, my mother’s, she was taken so quickly without warning yet with, because God speaks to us and he spoke to mom and I before it happened. It says she had a unique way of making everyone feel loved and treasured. She did.
I found a book that my grandmother brought back from her many travels Michelangelo’s La Cappella Sistina. I want to see it some day, even in a book it can bring me to tears, in person I know I’d weep.
The people on the other side of the country can’t define who we are they don’t know us they only know a moment when we wish for peace when we talk of power tools. They only know what they perceive she’s a feminist so she must think. . . .
They don’t know that the little girl in yellow is my niece named after me. The other picture is my Miss Littles. The incredible love I have for my family isn’t known by the ones who are so quick to grasp at a word.
God has made Milly who Milly is, what I’ve been through and where I go He is with me and He is with you.
God Blesses us in so many ways.