Me in my torn jeans and you in your striped ones
With hand signals, broken language and laughter
I wasn’t looking for anything, because I’d been told that I
Was too strong, too independent, too opinionated…
I wasn’t soft enough, quiet enough, didn’t dress up enough.
But in the quiet of your soul you heard the words “Open your heart to her”.
You, who had made a promise when young to “not arouse or awaken love”
You, who continued to ask the Lord when someone would catch your eye
You, who obeyed when He said
As our language grew stronger, so did our hearts grow together
Up one side of a mountain and down another
Loving on the least of these, guitars in our hands
And for the first time I was free to express all of me.
In the sea of men who continued to tell me to be quiet and sit down,
You spoke life into those words that were spoken to tear me down
You said that I was created strong
so I could carry the weight of
the pain that I’d seen
You said that I was loud
so I could shout truth
to water the ground the lies had dried up
You said that I was opinionated
so that those whose thoughts and ideas were discredited
could finally be heard
You took my hands, looked into my eyes and said
“Your being doesn’t intimidate me or make me feel less.
Your being makes me a better being.”
You call me by names that have been withheld from me
because some look to them as titles and not as how they were created to be.
Pastor, counselor, teacher, spiritual mother
You, who grew up with amazing examples of strong women in your life
You, who have such an incredible sense of worth,
because you know you are created in God’s image, for God’s purposes
You, who uncovers value in everyone you meet
because you know that we are ALL created in God’s image, for God’s purposes
You, who patiently waited for me to trade in my independence for your name
I am proud to be a woman, because You are my man.