Feminine 101

Stop me if you’ve heard this one: There was this man and this woman. They were perfect in beauty, intelligence, and purpose. His was to tend, to watch over them and all that was theirs; hers was simply to be his help, to uphold him. They lived in paradise. There was no pain, no struggle, no fear. There was only bliss. And there was only one rule. In the end, that proved to be one too many. When they broke the rule, God cursed them. When He cursed the woman, He told her, “–Yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you.” Those words have dogged women across page after page of history ever since. 

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Just about every girl dreams of marrying her version of Prince Charming. For my mom, he wore a cowboy hat and rode a horse. For some girls, he’s a successful businessman, or a poet, or doctor, or pirate. For me? He kissed my hand like the gentlemen in the stories. What she doesn’t necessarily dream about is folding his socks, or cleaning his toilet, or cooking him dinner. When you listen to a girl pining for her dream man, that seldom includes washing his dishes, or packing his lunch. In fact, without careful management of our feelings and proper perspective, it’s all too easy for resentment and discontent to quickly devour any initial infatuation.

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You see, the woman’s purpose has not changed. It is her glory to help him, but the curse makes her resent it. You hear it in feminists who declare that “a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” You hear it in every gripe-fest of women who mock their husbands, wine-glass in hand. You see it in every sitcom that portrays the husband as a lovable neanderthal whom his wife is tasked with patiently guiding to the correct ideas, i.e. hers. You see it in women who share a knowing look over household grievances. 

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It’s not hard to understand, and so easy to catch ourselves in that trap. I’ll never forget visiting with a newly-wedded friend of mine. We were swapping war stories about literal dirty laundry when our husbands walked in mid-conversation. Mr. Right said nothing, just cocked his head at me which was quite enough. I felt so ashamed! I love this man. But there I was laughing at his faults with someone else. I thought of how hurt I would be if I were in his shoes, and I decided this would never happen again. He deserves better than that. I can do better. 

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It’s time to come clean: loving our husbands does not come naturally anymore. Not since Eve in the Garden, has it been a natural thing. The Apostle Paul agrees. In Titus chapter 2, he basically paints the modern-day meme of a middle aged woman at “wine-o-clock” and warns against “malicious gossip.” He then instructs the older women to teach the young women to love their husbands and to love their children. 

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If our relationships are going to be successful, we need to acknowledge the fact that love, more than warm-fuzzies and butterflies, is a skill that we must practice in order to ever do well. It’s a muscle group that needs targeted, intentional exercise to make it strong. It’s not just a thing that we obviously do. We could use a little instruction and guidance to hone that craft. Beyond the original attraction, we have to be calculated in our approach to demonstrating and nourishing our love or we may end up thinking we’ve made a mistake. If we treat the “warm-fuzzies and butterflies” as the real thing, then we grow disappointed when they fade and may actually believe we’re no longer in love. What a small view of love! No, instead, love should be led by action with emotions following obediently behind.

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Also, I’m convinced that Titus 2 intentionally puts husbands ahead of children. I realize this is a touchy subject, but hear me out. What greater gift can you give to your children than a rock-solid, loving, healthy relationship with their father? The world could go up in flames around them, but having that unwavering structure under which to shelter? Your children will bless you for giving them such peace. On the flip side, can you think of a more effective way to breed narcissism than to make children the focus of a marriage? One need only observe our current culture to see what comes of that. Furthermore, can you think of a better way to kill your passion? If your husband is relegated to an observer in your household, consider first the unnecessary weight of extra responsibility you assume. Now consider what message that sends to him: I got what I wanted, you’ve served your purpose.

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Since Paul is so on target, let’s consider what else his epistle discusses. The next thing older women should teach younger women is to be sensible…because being down-to-earth and level-headed also does not come naturally. Admit it, you knew this one already. I did. I mean, I didn’t. But I do now. When I was a teenager, full of wisdom and great knowledge from the boundless depths of personal experience, I determined I would not be a high-maintenance girl. As it turns out, teenage me was a rambling idiot. When I fell for Mr. Right, I fell hard and became a lovesick nut-job with the same unreasonable expectations of every other woman ever. To my utter shock, being sensible was a thing of practice. We’ll circle back to this one. 

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Other things that the Apostle mentions are reverence, virtue, and kindness. Talk about lost arts! When was the last time you met someone whom you could accurately describe as reverent? They were almost certainly older. Somewhere in our western history women exchanged reverence and virtue for a caricature of manliness that looks tough, edgy, and swears like a sailor. We traded Longfellow’s Evangeline for Marvel’s “Black Widow.” We allowed the crassness of brothels and locker rooms to bleed into our homes. We actually traded a culture where men stood out of respect when a woman entered the room for…for what? We gave power to an untested culture that led us to resent our children as little more than expensive add-ons that keep us from having any fun. Then it led us to mock and supplant our husbands. You have never seen a modern movie where the strong female lead is actually feminine. If they’re not kicking virtual butt in heavily choreographed scenes, they’re peeling off their clothes to coldly seduce some hapless fool. If we’re to reclaim the glory of womanhood, then we’ve got to be guided by these antiquated, grossly underused qualities.

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So, if our very nature conflicts with the qualities that will ensure success in marriage and motherhood, it stands to reason that we ought to accept some wise instruction. Since biblical standards would make me an older woman, then I suppose I had best mind the gossip and moderate the wine so I can impart some hard-earned wisdom to my fellow wives and mothers. 

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