This summer really taught me a lot about men - or lack thereof - and the affect it has on the kids who didn't get to choose their dads... their brothers... their male influence.
The boys are lost, trying to figure out what it means to be a man - besides just what they hear in hip hop music (that's all those young whipper-snappers are listening to these days - yes, I am secretly 80). The girls are seaching for someone... anyone... who will fight for them.
I know I am.
Almost every woman I know... every woman you see in a romantic comedy or an action movie... every girl in a story-song... all of us - we want to be chosen. To be fought for. It's not the uniform that makes the "man in uniform" loveable. It's that he's fighting for something he believes in, so maybe he'd fight for me too.
The feminist in me wants to add something here about that it's not that we're not capable of doing things on our own. But let's be honest. I was thrilled to death that one of my guy friends cleaned up the rotting squirrel in my basement so I didn't have to do it. I love when I'm clearly struggling with carrying something and a man offers to help. I like having someone be thoughtful enough to hold the door open for me. I'm capable of doing it. But it's nice to be thought of.
It's what every girl secretly wants.
We want you to take a risk. Step up and ask us out.
We want you to take care of us. Kill the moths. And step on the giant crickets.
We want you to carry heavy things and get off difficult lids. That one is because our hands are probably wet.
We want you to fight for us. Face it. Sometimes we say things, just to hear that you want to be with us.
We want you to lead us. I want you to love Jesus. And to help me follow Him better. I am also bad with directions.
From the girl who's been single her whole life to the recently divorced to the heart-broken to the flirt - hear from us all: please. fight for me.
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