two miles in the shoes of a man

"two miles? you'll walk two miles in the snow?" there was a healthy degree of an "are you crazy" tone in my voice.

my friend looked at me and smiled.  "verdell...we're men.  we get things done."

i smiled, but it wasn't from happiness.  me smiling was an attempt to focus my energies elsewhere.  i never liked those masculine concepts of strength and might, the ones that quietly imply that women are not those things.  my friend wasn't being disrespectful or anything, but i'm always keen to notice stuff like that.  sometimes i'm probably too sensitive to it.

i thought to myself, why does that bother me? why do phrases like that tick me off?  i think there are a few reasons.  reason number one:  i was never one of the guys.  growing up i didn't play organized sports.  the time in the locker room before gym was usually hell for me.  i was really different than most of the guys i went to school with in terms of temperament and experience.  the fighting, the cursing, the sex talk...it was foreign to me.  and clearly i was foreign to them as well.  i never was in a position where "hyper masculinity" was encouraged or praised.  i was pretty calm.  happy.  

reason number two:  i've been blessed to be around some incredibly strong women.  my mother is still and probably always will be the standard of a woman for me.  she wasn't masculine, but she was strong. mentally and physically.  honestly she is still stronger in character (and probably in strength) then a lot of men i know.  my nanna, another strong woman.  she would look you in the eye and tell you the truth.  that isn't to mention my aunts and cousins.  the idea of the "little woman" just didn't exist in my world.

reason number three:  i never saw that image portrayed from my father.  i can't remember my dad verbally teaching me a whole lot.  but the older i get, the more i understand his example.  my dad always encouraged me to be myself.  he supported me in everything that i did.  he wanted me to be myself.  he offered to play basketball and football...i wanted books and drawing paper instead.  he gave it to me, and encouraged me.  when i wanted to do martial arts, he was my first teacher.  my father isn't a macho type of guy.  sarcastic (that's where i get it from), to the point, yes.  but i don't ever remember him puffing himself up  on the basis that he's "a man."  if anything, there was a dignity that he had about himself.  he respected himself and understood he abilities and obligations.  he always treated my mother with respect and as an equal. those images shaped me.

i ultimately do think that there are some base things that make a man different from a woman.  god himself was distinct in their creation.  however, when i look at jesus, i see a masculinity that we probably would classify as "weak" if the lord's name weren't attached to it.  jesus was in touch with his emotions.  he freely expressed joy, anger, and sadness, with tears! in fact, his greatest miracles happened either after he cried or "was moved with compassion."  he didn't beat his chest, but he got his strength from his heavenly father. but yet "men" shouldn't cry.  i find it remarkable how our how our theology and understanding of christ are easily veiled when it comes to things we hold dear, especially if we've let them define us (that goes for me too).