Sometimes, for what may seem like no apparent reason to others, I begin to cry.
It may begin as a welling of tears that I manage to keep at bay, or the emotion may freely unfold, but the simple fact is that there are times when I simply long to cry.
Why, you may ask?
Because God made me a woman.
But before you imagine that my tears are those of sadness at such a thought, let me quickly correct and adjust – for they are the farthest thing from emotions of dissatisfied pain.
The tears that I sometimes feel welling from within are those of sheer gratitude.
I cannot help but long to thank God for making me what he has – a woman.
It is a creation that I certainly do not deserve to be, for in my own blindness I have often been confused by it, or been tempted to understand and use it in the wrong way.
But in his greatness he has granted and willed to make me one nonetheless.
He has granted and willed to make me a sharer in the nature that causes evil to tremble and fear – when it is properly understood and rightly lived.
So if I was to sit down and put just some of my feelings into a letter, and address that letter to God, one may find that it might go something like this:
There are many things that I could thank you for, quite infinitely in all truth, but I wanted to write you this short letter to simply say thank you for making me what you have – a woman.
You, more than anyone, know what it has taken for me to get to this point where I can seriously write such unusual words – and mean them as I now do.
I know that the journey of my life has often been long and the path strewn with much pain.
I have often had to suffer greatly, even unjustly, for being just what I am, in so many different ways and on so many different grounds.
There was even a time when the accumulation of all of my sufferings, and the pain from so much confusion, drove me to the edge of a path perhaps darker than that of even Eve.
I could not understand why you had lead me where you had, and there were moments when I was tempted to truly hate being made as I was.
I did not always understand the way that people treated me because of the creation that you had destined me to be.
There were times when I truly thought that being a woman was a terrible curse, a nightmare that I was forced to bear, and I did so with the greatest unrest and far too many questions that I could not comprehend.
There were so many ways that I could have gone – so many paths that I could have walked, in seeking an answer to all that I sought to find.
- I could have turned angry, and rebelled like a man – wearing boots and warrior pants that would have made any ninja feminist proud.
- I could have turned cold, and become like so many who see power in their being – and use it for their own selfish ends.
- I could have turned silent, hollow and still – accepting my fate and never imagining that there is more.
But there is.
There is so much more.
I do not know why I went through all that I did, but I do now know, as a result of it all, that to be a woman is a gift from your sacred hands.
But it is more than just any gift – for to be in this nature is to stand on the highest ground.
There is so much dignity within the gift you have given, so much depth, meaning, and grace.
I know that it is not of my own account, or the account of any mortal – but of yours alone – for you have given it all the sacredness that it contains.
How can I ever even begin to express all that I think? How can I ever begin to put all that I feel into words?
When I looked in the mirror, there were times I wanted to be anything but.
Yet you took my hand, and through all the pain – all the strange high places and dangerous faces – you showed me that a woman can change the world.
She can change the world for she is the heart of the world.
She is the blood that courses through its veins – she is the silent, hidden force that shapes and defines its course.
Without her, life upon this earth would be nothing but a mere skeleton – an empty planet like all the others, void of life.
Full of strength, full of presence – but completely and utterly devoid of life.
It would be nothing special.
It would offer nothing unique.
Yet it is so easy to devalue this gift – to forget how important and essential it is.
In a fallen world, where all is backwards, the highest often becomes trampled on as if it were the lowest.
Yet I know that creation is a hierarchy – and that woman was created last for a reason.
I do not know what I can offer, but if I could teach the world – men and women alike – how important the feminine gender is, I would. I would write it upon every heart, and engrave it upon every mind, so that no one could ever forget this truth.
For without it, so much will always be lacking. Without it, this world will always be in chaos, for the blood that runs through its veins will always be sick.
It can have the strongest skeletal structure, and flex the greatest of muscles. It can revel in a masculinity without the slightest hint of the feminine touch.
But without an understanding of the value of women, it will be nothing more than a form filled with disease – destined to perish and die.
Men and women are equal, this is true – equal yet different.
A base note is lower than a high note – yet both are needed to create a lovely song.
But one is still lower, and one is still higher – it is a truth that cannot be changed.
So yes, sometimes I weep and sometimes I want to cry – because I am a woman.
And I know that I have an awesome responsibility as a result.
Thank you for this gift.
Thank you for choosing to make me a woman.
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