The other night Pandora played me a song called the "Wagoner's Lad" by a group called the Duhks. I've not known of this great old ballad, but quickly my mind carried me off to a broken fence and dusty road where I was collecting little chicks in my apron. The lyrics were a sweet blur of autumn and I couldn't quite make out their meaning. After discovering the song's words, I mourned a bit and set my thoughts on womanhood. The first stanza goes "Oh, hard is the fortune of all womankind, she's always controlled, she's always confined, controlled by her parents until she's a wife, a slave to her husband the rest of her life."

Indeed, for most cultures of the earth, this song rings true, but I want to set my mind aright. The curse presents the plight of mankind (Gen. 3), where the man will desire to rule his wife, and the woman, to overthrow her husband in usurping his authority. Neither pictures the essence of harmony each person seeks when entering that covenant, but hope is not lost, for God always presents the remedy to such things, and I want to reside there -- in feminine freedom.

My heart slipped out the other day while eating lunch. I'd been daydreaming about floral earth tone linen when I proclaimed that I'd quite like to wear aprons as part of my wardrobe. It seemed perfectly normal until my words reached my co-eater's ears. I asked her then if she agreed, and not remembering what she said, she gave some sort of no, and walked off with her tray. Feeling a bit rejected, I chuckled at my silly vocalized surmisings. Later I came back to these thoughts and realized that I am hopelessly feminine, and there's no real use in denying it. I love to split wood and drive tractors, but my furrows are plowed to reap beauty, and wood split to engender and spread warmth to those I love. I am a woman, not a man. I do not desire career, success, or worldly acceptance, and I feel I need to confess this. I've vacillated in these years, feeling a pressure to perform and yet no real desire to do so. My venue is the human heart, and if any remembrance should be left, I desire it be in love, and the impression cast by the presence of God. May we usher in, and be the bearers of both life and beauty in this hungry, confused world.