Camaraderie

....this word strikes anger in the hearts of lonely duck widows for 60 days out of the year. My Dad owns a Duck Hunting Club where guys pay an ignorant amount of money to have the chance to hunt waterfowl on a great piece of property and MAYBE shoot a duck or two. Dad offers no guarantees. These men shell out thousands of dollars for gear and boats and memberships and registered dogs and all the cool gear that goes along with hunting. If anyone ever figured out how much duck meat costs per pound, Donald Trump himself couldn't afford to eat it!

These same men will also spend hours in the mosquito infested back waters of the Illinois River, slog through mud and stress their bodies in an attempt to camouflage their blinds and prepare their places of battle. I've never figured out how the smoke from their cookstoves and the smell of their cigars fit into the 'hide and seek' they so carefully prepare for and execute. Fearing nothing (not even the angry wife they've forgotten back home), they will rise before the crack of dawn, freeze themselves half to death and then sit for hours with icicles in their moustaches waiting for the ducks that may never come within target range. If they are fortunate enough to murder a bird and NOT fortunate enough to own a papered pooch, they then must strap on their $250 neoprene waders and waddle out into the water, praying that they haven't sprung a leak or that they don't fall into a hole.

When asked, they will reply that it is not about the killing of the birds, but about the camaraderie. They will contend that they LOVE being around their buddies and hanging out with the guys. It is about the sweet smell of nature (Have you ever actually smelled nature? It kind of stinks!), and the soothing call of wildlife. It is their place of comfort. Their place of rest. Their home away from home....their haven.

Do we seek God with such enthusiasm? The rewards of heaven are far more delectable than a hunk of bloody duck meat. Do we seek our fellow Christians with such fervor? I never had before attending the church I do now. As my faith has increased, and my walk has become stronger, I crave the camaraderie of those who share my passion for Christ. No matter what the cost or how silly it seems to the outside world, I will do it anyway because I need to. I need to be part of that community. I need that home away from home. I need my heaven.

Proverbs 31

I can't write this book without addressing this annoying passage. If my audience is mostly Christian women, we all have chewed on this biblical reference and a lot of us have spit it out. When I first read it years ago, I was just plain mad at God for expecting me to do these things. How dare He want me to 'get up while it is dark and provide food for my family and servant girls'. (Where are they by the way? I have a stack of laundry that needs to be folded!) This woman sets the bar very high. I'm not much of a jumper. I also hated it because I thought that men could use it as ammunition to make me submit to them (and I don't like that word!)

Now, years later and miles further into my spiritual journey, I'm not AS offended, but I still giggle when I read it. After all, I do not have a husband who 'praises me'. My children don't 'rise and call me blessed'. I usually get a "Leave me alone and let me sleep!" "Just 5 more minutes Mom!!!" or "Do I HAVE to go to school today?" I will have to say, I can check off a lot more of these categories since I have started listening to God. I like to wear purple (after all, it IS the color of royalty, and I'm a domestic goddess!), but its not really considered fine linen unless I have found a really good deal at the second hand store. I try to extend my hand to the needy. My kids have some scarlet colored clothes . Most often they are pink because a red sock has found its way into the white load. I think I speak with wisdom and try to dole out faithful instruction. My lamp doesn't go out at night. I can only get stuff done once everyone is in bed.

I still fall really short in all the areas of gardening and sewing. That takes up a lot of time, and there are bugs outside. EEWWW!! The sewing thing escapes my abilities. I'm hoping that hanging out with the Mennonite women of my congreagation might hone those skills a bit. Maybe someday I can check that one off and make my daughter a dress that doesn't require her to lean forward so her hemline is straight, or make my son a shirt that doesn't evoke taunts of 'Quasimodo'!

My favorite part of the passage is the end. It declares that beauty is fleeting (mine ran away like a racehorse on steroids), but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. I fear the Lord! I need to be praised! The last verse ensures that I have earned a reward and I WILL be praised....so for now I'll rise before dawn, throw some hot water in that instant oatmeal, wash some dishes and get that laundry going. Oh- and say 'hi' to God. After all, He is the one I'm ultimately doing all of this for, and I know He loves me and appreciates me and will greet me with a big smile and say, "Well done good and faithful servant!"

Hands Off!

Back from my official Fat Old Mom's weekend 2005, I learned something very important. The Fat Old Moms were sitting around the kitchen table in the morning, rooting through the 'dumb laws' in Deuteronomy looking for a loophole in the whole tattoo rule (it has been a bit of a tradition for someone to get 'inked' on a weekend, and we were afraid that we were heathens because of it). We stumbled across this passage and couldn't believe our eyes. Remember ladies and gents- this is biblical and you had better listen.

Deuteronomy 25:11-12 states: If two men are fighting and the wife of one of them comes to rescue her husband from his assailant and she reaches out and seizes him by his private parts, you shall cut off her hand. Show her no pity!

I'm as shocked as you, but we explored at least four translations and came up with the same thing. As we giggled and snorted over this, we realized that it must have been quite a problem for God to actually have to address it. Erica likened it to Bill Engvall's "Here's Your Sign" stuff.....you know- Don't use a blow dryer while in the bathtub....Don't dispense shaving cream over an open flame.....that kind of stuff. It's only a rule because it was interfering with the natural order of things. I guess you can't just have women running around grabbing men by their privates, so God had someone write it down and issued a pretty harsh punishment for it.

Really though, if you think about it, it has nothing to do with Kung Fu grip- it has more to do with the male ego. It has to do with men being the superior beings and the leaders of our household. Now I have had MAJOR issues with this concept. I am fiercely independent by nature and the thought of giving up control to a man was surreal to me. When my walk became stronger, and I began to realize my place in the household, I wrestled with this concept more than most women I think. How was I supposed to let a person who didn't have the forethought to put a gallon of gas in his car so he could get back to the gas station actually be in charge of me, three kids and our spiritual well being? If he can't get his dirty underwear in the hamper, how is he supposed to lead the parade to eternal salvation?

I teased John relentlessly. He always gave me such good material. I come from a family of 'teasers', so it was natural for me to find a person's weakness and peck at it until they bled. My daughter found me a bumper sticker that says, "I'm not mean. You're just a sissy." She said it was ME!!! I never meant to hurt him. I always thought I was funny and I always got a laugh, but it was as damaging to his male ego as if I had grabbed his opponent by the inseam and 'saved the day'. Perhaps God was protecting men and their egos since He knew He had created them to be so fragile. All I know is that now that I have backed off from poking at my husband, our relationship has mellowed out quite a bit. I still get him every once and awhile with a sarcastic comment, but I PROMISE I won't ever jump into the fray for him. I'd like to keep my hands right where they are....attached to my arms!