Into the Fire

Passionate thoughts about the world of writing and the Power of God

Females can be a strange lot. They attach importance to a man who garners some kind of fame or holds positions they construe as noteworthy. At the racetrack it was jockeys. Yeah, they’re generally short and weigh less than most of the women who’re attracted to them. Doesn’t matter. If they win races, they’re hot. How ‘bout pastors? Oh, how women love to flirt with the pastor.

If the bad boys own even an ounce of charm entwined with significant bravado and sensuous good looks, girls wait in line for their attention. On the other end of the spectrum if the pastor’s or missionary’s son is near perfect in his looks, has an angelic smile, is studying to follow in his father’s footsteps: look out! The perfect catch.

Oh, come on, ladies. You know it’s true.

I think it goes back to the garden. There’s positional authority in place in the kingdom of God. To keep order, I suspect. Equality is guaranteed, but responsibility is issued and must be rendered appropriately. That rib construction which fashioned a female implied a world of symbolism. Woman made from man, a part of him would always be in her, he would always need her to be complete, and because she relied upon him for her very being, she would always rely upon him for her other needs, and he would be responsible for her well-being and hence his own. A supernatural attachment and union conceived from the mind of God and not thoroughly understood by the likes of men or women.

Women perceive and often evaluate men by their abilities to take care of them and to protect them. Emotionally, economically, and physically, but only some females rely on them to provide the spiritual leadership without the requirement of any of that submission nonsense. The order of those first three big-ees varies, often with age. In the budding years of romance girls look for emotional sensations from guys and if they’re not careful, they get more than they bargained for in the physical realm because a young man can hardly be responsible for satisfying the emotions of a young woman when the very nature of the pretty beast is to soar and dive in all directions. Physical satisfaction ranks up there pretty near the 100% place of importance for a guy without any spiritual instruction about the value and design of sexual activity.

Where it all ends up is anyone’s guess. Humans hunger for love, for affirmation, regardless of their age or gender. Some do outlandish things to gain what they desire. Others struggle within empty lives pinning their hopes on a person they either love or think they could. Men and women alike will spend relationships like dollar bills when they fail to produce the desired euphoria.

The hardened hearts of humanity leave many empty and abandoned, poured out over multiple relationships which were never as good as someone else’s they coveted either secretly or overtly. After enough time passes, they either settle for someone they can rip apart when they fail to please or ignore in safety. Random affairs supplant their relationships, either mentally or physically.

Oh, how we need the Lord Jesus Christ. To take our sins and issue forgiveness and renew a broken relationship with a perfect Father who some cannot imagine. To receive His deposit, the Seal of the Holy Spirit, within our hearts and spirits as we ask to be forgiven and hand over our allegiance to the One who fashioned us, who waits for us, who will provide what we truly need both now and throughout eternity. Yeah, it sounds incredible. Unbelievable really. Hard to grasp.

How could it be easy to understand? It’s supernatural. Not earthly. Not what we already know. So far beyond our abilities to reason out. Yeah. God.

The One we need.

Lord, I’m desperate for you . . . in the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Posted in

2 responses to “Mish Mash . . .”

  1. Mark H. Avatar
    Mark H.

    “Females can be a strange lot…”
    Oh, that’s too easy. Never mind.

    Like

  2. Nicole Avatar

    Chicckkkennnnn . . .
    Don’t worry. I got one for men in me somewhere, Mark.

    Like

Leave a comment