WOMEN ARE STRONG

I chafe when a man calls his wife or girlfriend "the little woman" because the term diminishes her. I object when a man calls his wife "the old ball and chain" because he's belittling her and making her look overbearing and warden-like.
I also am bothered by terms like "the fairer sex" and the "the weaker sex" because I think they underestimate and overgeneralize. Yes, there are women who are fairer than men and women who are weaker then men or even other women. Does that mean the entire gender should be painted with that brush? I think not.
Science has shown that when it comes to pure physical strength, women cannot equal or exceed man. That said, there are men who are weak and women who are strong, just as there are men who are strong and women who are weak. And there are a whole lot of the rest of us somewhere in between. There are women I would not want to arm wrestle. And there are men whom I could easily beat, and I am certainly no body builder.
Most women I know, however, are far stronger mentally and emotionally than men. Yes, I said emotionally. You may be thinking of times when the woman you know has gone deep into the well of her emotions and thought surely men are stronger since, after all, we are trained not to show our emotions much, if at all. But if we men had the same levels of hormones coursing through our blood and occasionally spiking, we'd all be emotional basket cases, believe me. And while we men pride ourselves in being able to lift and carry more weight than the women we know and love, which one of us could endure the labor and pain of childbirth? None. Absolutely none. And yet women often endure it not once, but several times. Now which is the stronger sex?
I do think women, as a rule, strive to be fairer and to seek fairness in most things. While that term "the fairer sex" was not referring to that, I do think the label in that form might apply in general. Men tend to consider that life is never fair so why bother. Women, realizing life's innate unfairness, try to at least provide some balance to the otherwise unfair lives of those they love. It is not unlike trying to stem a raging flood with a teacup, but you have to give them credit for trying.
Women also have the innate ability to be more empathetic than the males of this world. I don't mean to imply that all women are more empathic than men, just that I think they are given the gift for greater empathy than men. Some exercise that gift and others do not. A woman I know, when faced with her own personal, emotional and relational burdens, still thinks first of how she can be more for those around her, whether they are family, friends or nearly complete strangers. She sees herself, and God, in those around her. And she sees with empathetic eyes that few others I know will ever have.
We men may have been blessed by our Creator with the brute muscular strength to move mountains, or at least small molehills, but women have been graced with a strength, a depth of emotion, an empathy and a spirit that we can only envy. Women are a living marvel. And we are so lucky they are all around us.

MEMORY

I haven't lived in that house for nearly two decades and yet I not only remember the address, I also remember the phone number I had when I lived there.
Memory is a funny thing. Sometimes you can't remember what you were about to say, or where you put the car keys you used yesterday and yet your memory can recall, with distinct and intricate detail, something that happened years, if not decades ago.
A friend once said she thought something was wrong with her because she was, she said, so forgetful. I told her that the mind gets filled with so many things to remember as we get older that we are bound to shove the less crucial things to the side and keep those memories we deem important where we can easily access them. Hence, she might forget where she put her cell phone because, for her, it simply is a tool. A young person, on the other hand, might never lose track of that device because, for them, it is a lifeline to friends and the outside world.
On the other hand, she might recall with great clarity a night spent with a friend while a young person might forget a friend's name.
It is all a matter of what really matters.
Which is why, on this day, I am remembering the birth of someone special, someone so amazing and so incredible. She no longer is in my life, but she will always be in my mind and in my heart. For there is no more important person on the planet to me and no one who can or will ever take her place. She is a singularity, a shining star, a walking, talking miracle.
Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades may pass, but she will never leave my memories. Which is why this day, this date will never go unnoticed, nor will her birth or the mother who bore her go unhonored. For on this day love came into the world and, in time, into my life. And nothing is more important than that.

LEARNING TO TRUST

All of my life I have trusted God.
Whatever came at me in life, I just tried to give it my best and let God take care of the rest. I assumed my best was all God could or would ever want.
I was okay with that arrangement. I'd do my best at everything and God would take care of the rest. It helped, of course, that the answer or result of such things came fairly quickly. There was no waiting for weeks or months or even years on end for Him to act or decide. He gave me enough patience to wait for everything else.
All during this time, I was waiting for love. I just assumed it was out there, somewhere, in the form of the right woman and that I would meet her at the right time and from that point on we would both love each other the best we could and we'd let God take care of the rest. I had no reason to doubt this would happen.
Life is never that simple, nor that easy.
God brought love into my life and just as quickly took it away. I'm still trying to figure out why. Was it something I did? Didn't do? Was it just the wrong time? Or is there some other reason why this didn't work out? Or is this simply a delay in the final decision? I still don't know and the not knowing has shaken my trust in God.
You see, it took a series of miracles just to bring the two of us together. It took even more miracles to open us up to each other. And the final miracle -- love itself -- seemed to convince me that this was ordained to happen by Him (or Her, if you prefer). So when it all fell apart, I was left wondering what was the point. Why perform all of these miracles in the lives of two people just to separate them? That just doesn't make much sense to me.
I've been mentally wrestling with this quandary ever since she walked out of my life. The part of me that recognizes the miracles feels the need to step in and do something to get her back. The more logical side of me sees the folly in that since such actions most certainly would only serve to push her further away.
What this calls for is trust. I have to trust in God as I have never trusted before. That's because the answer, if one indeed is ever coming, is not bound to arrive anytime soon. No, this is going to take a long time if it is ever to happen. I have to put my trust in Him and go on with my meager existence (I cannot in good conscience call anything without her in it a "life"), hoping one day He will reveal His plans to me.
I realize we each have free will and that maybe this is her expression of that ability, rejecting me and us. But this, then, is my exercise of free will. I choose to trust in God and to wait, as long as it takes, to see if maybe time will bring her back to me. If not, then too bad for me. If not, then God wasted some pretty amazing miracles just to give two people a short shot at love.

LOVE CAN'T BE FORCED

Love, I believe, is something we all seek.
Some of us search for it in money, believing a lot that will bring us a lot of love. Some of us search for it in sex, thinking if we give that away enough, sooner of later someone who receives it will love us. Some of us search for it in education, thinking if we were only smart enough, someone surely will love us. Some of us search for it in beauty, thinking that if we are just perfectly beautiful, then someone will love us.
Others become so disenchanted that they abandon the search completely for an antidote of alcohol and drugs to numb the unending ache. Others become so afraid of the risks that love demands that they cower in a shell of their own making, too fearful to even stick their heads out to see if the sun of love might shine on them.
And yet others, so unsure of what love is, grab the first thing resembling love and marry it, only to realize all too late that what they have is not love at all, but just a big mistake.
Much as we want and much as we try, one thing we simply cannot do is make someone love us or make ourselves love someone. It would be akin to making the sun rise at midnight or turn the ocean into a parched desert. We cannot change that which is out of our control, and those whom we love and whom love us is not within our power. It is beyond us and yet part of us. It is within us and within others and yet more than the sum of any two people in love.
We may love someone who, for reasons we cannot understand, either cannot or will not love us back. Or maybe they are too afraid to risk everything for love, preferring the safety of that shell. Oh, we can prod them and poke at them and even try to entice them to leave the safety of that shell. That may work, briefly, until their fears overwhelm them or they sense that pain and hurt are just around the corner.
But wouldn't it be so much better if they chose, of their own free will and when they were ready, to come out of that same shell and greet you, lovingly, the way you want it to be? Is not far better for them to realize love is something they want too and that they are now ready to take the risk? And if they cannot shake their fears, cannot find the courage to leave the safety of their shell -- a shell of their own making -- is it not better to continue to love and wait and hope, rather than to prod, poke and pester? Would you rather this person, in time, to remember you as someone who never stopped loving them or to always think of you as the person who simply would not leave them be? Would you rather be hated in the long term or loved forever?
You decide.
But you cannot make them love you, not until they and their heart are ready. So either be patient and hope they eventually will see you for who you are or be a pest and then they truly will hate you for what they think you are.