I chose the above photo to display because it represents what I see in the world around me. A young girl sitting on the floor of a room empty of items or decorations, but for a lone teddy bear about an arms length from her that coincidentally looks as forlorn as the you might imagine the child’s face if her back was not to the camera. She sits cross legged on the floor facing a bare wall with a small window in its center through which the daylight streams into the room. The visual, to me, reeks of sorrow and emptiness. I don’t know what the photographer wanted to express when creating the scene, but if it was sorrow and emptiness, I say he or she was on point!
In the garden of Eden after Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit God said that Eve’s punishment would be increased pain in childbearing and that her desire would be for her husband. If you research the Hebrew word for “desire” you will learn that this was not a simple word implying a normal, healthy desire for her spouse, but rather a unhealthy type of desire. This should be obvious from the perspective of this being part of her punishment. God went on to say that Adam (man) would rule over Eve (woman) or rather have dominion. As for Adam, he was told that the land he was responsible to work was now cursed and he would spend his days working in pain and toil. I know you know all of this, most everyone on earth knows this … it seems to be the only thing everyone agrees on. Women bear children in enormous pain and man works his butt off until his body hurts for little reward. As for the serpent (Satan) we’ll leave that for another time.
The picture painted in scripture is one of the men working while the women had babies and cared for them and the men. I’ll tell you now that the worst part of the punishment metered out that day has been completely missed but let me show you where we do see it almost every day.
As the world grew and men got sick and tired of being sick and tired, they went from being leaders to being dictators. They went from caring about others to caring about themselves. They went from being gentlemen, to being abusers of all those weaker than themselves. Please, hear me out before you write me off and hear me clearly … I don’t hate men in any way, shape, or form! I am writing this in sorrow for what I have witnessed over sixty-seven years of life.
Lately I have been helping a friend who is facing the need to get away from an abusive spouse after almost thirty years of marriage. It is a sad situation that involves several adult children and one teenager. That is not what I want to share with you because it is not my story to share. The story I want to share incorporates my story and the story of millions, perhaps billions of other women who have walked this earth.
Personal Story
I need to tell you first that my parents did their very best to give my brother and I a good home, education, and the love necessary to prepare us for our future lives. They truly did their best for us; their failure, if that is the right word was in how they treated each other.
Mine was a middle class family. My father was a man’s man and he was a womanizer. My mother was a hard working woman and a one man woman. My mother gave her virginity to my father and never gave her heart or her body to another man during sixty plus years of marriage. My father never honored my mother in that regard or in too many other ways either.
What’s In a Name?
My father had a temper and shortly after their wedding my mother would learn of it first hand. My brother and I grew up in a household filled with spouse abuse and while I never saw my mother hit my father I wish I could say the same of him. My mother was no saint, in fact she was well known for her “throwing arm”. The New York Yankee’s would have made her a pitcher had they known how good she was at throwing things! Both of them could practically raise the roof off the house when they hollered at each other and that seemed to be a frequent occurrence at our house.
I shared my mother and grandmother’s first name. My brother was given my father’s first name. It is still a common practice for parents to name their children in such a manner. What no one stops to think about is how that really affects the children.
If you are considering naming your child after yourself or your spouse I would plead with you not to do it. Why? It’s a fair question. My answer is that most parents of young children wait until the kids go to bed to have adult conversations and air their differences. It’s a great idea, but remember two things: first, the brain does not sleep and second, you don’t use terms of endearment when arguing.
Neither my brother or I were deaf … asleep, but not deaf! My father would bellow out MY name and call my mother every vicious thing he could. My mother would scream out my brother’s name in the same manner. Get the picture?
To help you understand; I listen to Christian music or spoken scripture at night while I sleep. I have the volume down to just above a whisper and I laugh every time I hear the songs or scripture during the day and find myself mouthing everything as it goes along.
Separating The Sexes
From the time I was two until I was fourteen my father did not live in the family house because my mother told him to leave and not come back until he was ready to be a husband and father. I guess he was a slow learner. He usually came home every other weekend to get his laundry done and spend time with my brother.
My father displayed little or no interest in spending time with me. Society and his father had taught him that girls really didn’t matter. Let me explain that. My fathers mother died when he was young so he and his sister were primarily raised by an aunt until my grandfather remarried.
On my grandfathers wedding day he was bringing his new wife home and as they walked up the steps to their apartment my grandfather said, “Oh, by the way, I have a daughter and her name is …” My step-grandmother knew from the start that my grandfather had a son because he always talked proudly about him, but not once during their courtship had he mentioned he had a daughter!
Oh, that I were finished explaining my sorrow, but sorrow has a much deeper meaning than sadness so I hope you will come back for part 2 … whenever that is.
May God grant you an abundance of peace as you walk through the journey laid out for you.