So I may not be as strange as the women in this picture, (who I had to post because they are just so lovely...) but here are some examples of my strangeness:
1. I don't worry. That seems really nice. But it is sort of strange, actually. When I think about my kids, heading off into various locations, daycare, after care... husband here, me there. The first thing that comes to mind isn't worry about some tragic incident happening. This is doubly strange when you consider that my profession is based on risk assessment. I know things happen. I know bad things happen. I am one of the people that believes evil exists in the world - in fact, the world is intrinsically fallen. But, I don't worry. I have felt God's blessing in my life. I have just decided it is far easier to go thru life without that constant nagging panic. So, I don't. (I realize this is far easier said than done. I'm even more blessed that I'm pretty much clueless and usually half the horrible things that could happen never even occur to me. Praise God for that!)
2. I do cry. I am actually a pretty big blubbering mess sometimes. I can't seem to get a grasp on my emotions. What is my trigger? Worship music. Do I have any idea why? I have to think it has something with being powerless, which, when I consider my relationship with God, I am very humbled. I don't do powerless well. I don't do bare-naked vulnerability well. I usually just suck it up and forge ahead. So those lovely souls who can stand up and sing lyrics that make me blubber - those really simple ones like "how I need You..." I admire and wish I could do that. I'm lucky if I can keep my voice under control as a member of the congregation.
3. I'm not naturally tender. I'm a pretty business-oriented, political, thinking person. As a mom, this gets me in trouble. Thankfully, my husband is always gently remind me that when faced with a crying daughter: "Kiss her owwie, you're the mom." Oh, right! That's me. I'm the mom! I'm supposed to kiss the phantom bumps and bruises (not point out rationally that whatever they are showing me isn't there and that they are fine), I'm supposed to hug and love and supply emotional stability. Stability I've got -- emotional, not so much. Bizarre? Yes. But it honestly doesn't occur to me.
For really the first time in my life I've started to think about the kind of woman I am - and even more perplexing, what kind of woman do I want to be?
Why am I thinking all this now? Why does it even matter? I think I mentioned on my blog a couple of weeks back that Hubs and I have set aside some time to read together every week. Last night the chapter was about being a loving Christian wife - and the most repeated word in the chapter was "respect".
Respectful. Supportive. Loving. Encouraging. Prayerful. Serving. Feeling. When I take all these words in their sum total, they all have a distinctly female ring to them. And yet, not one of them comes to mind when I think of myself as a wife. Don't get me wrong, I am not a raging feminist. I love the door to be opened for me. My Hubs makes me feel protected, loved and very womanly. But it isn't a natural state of my being.
I want... for the first time probably in my life.. to be those womanly things. I want my first instinct to be to kiss the boo boo. I want my first response to be to hug. I want my girls to grow up knowing that you can feel and be strong all at the same time. That compassion is an amazing gift and we need to show it to each other every day. Grace, forgiveness, patience and understanding... I want those qualities to be the ones that make me, me. I want those qualities to be the ones that make me.... strange.