Don’t be someone whom Satan overlooks

I’ve been reading Job. Something different struck me this time, as I read that first distressing chapter. Job lost everything: his children, his livestock, his wealth, his health and ultimately his hope. One person, however, remained: his wife.

I wondered about this. Why did Satan not afflict Job’s wife? When the children were killed, why did she survive? When Job was covered with oozing sores, why was she not?

There could not possibly be any grace on Satan’s part. He would not have decided to spare the one person about whom Job cared the most. Nor did God explicitly instruct that she be kept alive. He said at first that Job must remain unharmed, and later that his life must be spared, but it seems that Job’s wife was fair game.

Why did Satan leave her?

I don’t know for sure, but when I got to chapter 2, verse 10 I had a hunch. Job’s wife was likely the most precious and influential person in his life. Maybe Satan knew, that when push came to shove, she would say to him, as she did, “Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God and die.”

Imagine being that kind of wife. The kind whom Satan would leave untouched, with the knowledge that she was better use to him alive than dead. What a position of influence she had, and how devastating, that when a crisis came, she abandoned her faith and exhorted her husband to do the same.

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I’m 30, so I only do what I’m good at (or: Swing Dancing out of my comfort zone.)

jon-heder-can-still-do-the-napoleon-dynamite-danceI went to a swing dancing class.

I signed up a month ago in a moment of impulsive bravery. While learning to dance has been on my bucket list for ages, I’d never been courageous enough to take the plunge.

The night of the class crept up on me faster than I’d expected. Driving in, I could feel the nerves buzzing through my body and had to actively concentrate on calming myself.

I was surprised how scared I was. As a kid, I was the nervous type, wrapping my comfort zone around me like a fleecy blanket, but I’ve come so far since then! I’ve traveled the world and jumped out of a plane and I’m no stranger to arriving at a party by myself. And yet, here I was, ready to bail on a simple dance class.

My friend was surprised to see me so nervous, and I realized how protective we can be of ourselves as adults. I’m usually a fairly confident and self-assured person, because I usually only choose to do things that are in my comfort zone. Anything that requires coordination (or any kind of team sport) terrifies me, so for most of my adult life, I’ve avoided it. And here I was, about to clumsily step on the feet of a dozen strangers.

Turns out it was far less scary than I’d thought and I’m definitely keen to go back. I keep hearing the phrase ‘get comfortable with being uncomfortable.’ Maybe it’s time I did.

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(Apparently I’ll be like this in no time.)

 

 

Chivalry Didn’t Die at the Hand of a Man

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAIt has long been said that chivalry is dead and I wonder, if this is true, who killed it?

I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not because men in every city decided that they’d be happier just being jerks. Nope, the first stabs in chivalry’s back came from women who decided they’d be happier being treated like men.

Before I get an onslaught of anger over issues of equality and gender stereotypes, let me say this.: I’m all for equality, but I’m also all for difference. In centuries gone by, chivalry was a man’s way of respecting and honouring this distinction. It was not about his right to exert power; it was about her privilege of receiving service.

For centuries men and women have existed in a harmonious dance of give and take, each serving each other, until (dare I say) the women decided they wanted to do everything themselves. Goodness knows why they’ve felt a sudden need to open their own doors (no-one ever doubted you were capable of it) but somehow it seemed necessary as they hurtled past equality towards power and dominance, leaving emasculated men in their wake.

For the record, I don’t think chivalry is dead (though it is languishing under the pressure of decades of slow strangulation) and I commend the men who uphold it, but I would say this to the women who are lamenting its rarity: Before you cry in disgust that chivalry is dead, make sure you’re acting like a lady.