Why God Hates Women (Like Me)
I’m tired. My back is chronically aching from shushing, cuddling, and hauling my 3-month-old bundle of joy or cleaning the urine off the toilet rim and the ring around the tub for the umpteenth time or folding laundry. My eyes are puffy and rimmed red from the Promethean hamster wheel of life lately.
I’m also regularly chiding myself for not doing enough, because I am watching mothers of multiple children holding down full-time jobs, producing regularly in ministry, and who are probably having the best sex of their lives with their adoring husbands after working out their amazing post-baby bodies and whipping up organic feasts. They probably have “Proverbs 31:10-31” tattooed to their backsides.
Me? I’m tired. What’s worse? God hates women like me.
I’m tired. My back is chronically aching from shushing, cuddling, and hauling my 3-month-old bundle of joy or cleaning the urine off the toilet rim and the ring around the tub for the umpteenth time or folding laundry. My eyes are puffy and rimmed red from the Promethean hamster wheel of life lately.
I’m also regularly chiding myself for not doing enough, because I am watching mothers of multiple children holding down full-time jobs, producing regularly in ministry, and who are probably having the best sex of their lives with their adoring husbands after working out their amazing post-baby bodies and whipping up organic feasts. They probably have “Proverbs 31:10-31” tattooed to their backsides.
Me? I’m tired. What’s worse? God hates women like me.
I mean, doesn’t He? He only loves the Perfect, Producing women (He’s the Vine, and we are the branches, and so “much fruit” must mean a fertile womb or a flourishing ministry or a freakishly perfect home, right?). I went to seminary, after all, and so I know the kind of woman who is lauded: she cares for everyone, she never sleeps, she bakes like a fiend, and she never says no. And she can play the piano. And she’s blonde.
What is productivity? It’s certainly not holding a baby for 14 hours a day. Or cleaning a bathroom that will only get dirty again. Productivity cannot be equated with the obstacles, the ins-and-outs of everyday life. The stuff that’s not pretty; like serving your husband breakfast when he just hurt your feelings, or cleaning poop off of your favorite shirt, or just smiling and walking away when someone tells you that you look chubby. Producing must be spectacular and showy (but humble, of course). Producing must be achieving big, hairy, audacious goals. Since I have considered it an achievement just to shower regularly these days, God must hate me.
Of course, you don’t have to have a Proverbs pericope tattooed anywhere on your person to know that everything I just said is just plain wrong. But if you’re like me, you beat yourself up about “producing” anyway.
I am so glad for biblical stories of what I like to call The Heralded Mundane; the widow minding her business and dropping her mite into the temple offering plate (Mark 12:41-44); Hannah heading to the temple, again, to pray, again, for a son (1 Samuel 1:6-11); Mary sitting at the feet of her Teacher instead of doing the dishes (Luke 10:38-42); Jesus sharing a meal with his closest friends (Luke 22:14-20). These stories remind me of the supernatural work of God occurring at the dinner table, in the hour of need, at times of hopelessness or at times of just being able to sit and soak rather than teach and do.
Could it be that God is at work in you and me, even in the mundane? Could it be that He wants to work in our places of fatigue and want, rather than in our areas of confidence or comfort? Could it be that He doesn’t hate me after all?
2 Corinthians 4:7-10 convicts me and assures me at the same time when I get this tired: “But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that the extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. [Oh…so I don’t have to be a Perfect Producer. Cool!] We are experiencing trouble on every side [Okay…not cool.], but are not crushed; we are perplexed, but not driven to despair; we are persecuted, but not abandoned; we are knocked down, but not destroyed, always carrying around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our body. [And this truth is worth the sacrifice.]”
It still doesn’t feel good to be tired, but when God is using the challenges of the mundane to show Himself faithful and powerful, it’s not in vain. And just like He saw and utilized and honored the everyday sorrows and faithfulness of His people before, I can rest assured that He sees me now. With or without the Proverbs tat.
Sharifa Stevens
Sharifa Stevens is a Manhattan-born, Bronx-raised child of the King, born to Jamaican immigrants, and currently living in Dallas. Sharifa's been singing since she was born. Her passion is to serve God's kingdom by leading His people in worship through music, speaking and writing, and relationships with people. Her heart is also unity, inspired by John. Sharifa hates exercise but likes Chipotle, bagels with a schmeer and lox, salmon sushi, chicken tikka, curried goat (yeah, it's good) with rice and peas, and chocolate lava cakes. She's been happily married to Jonathan since 2006...and he buys her Chipotle.
19 Comments
Terri Moore
man I know how you feel….
So you're saying God doesn't hate me for not even turning in my dissertation topic yet? Are you sure?
Sharifa Stevens
oh, yeah, I’m sure,
oh, yeah, I'm sure, Terri…because you're a blonde. LOL! Girl, you get a big PASS in my book for bringing another little life into your family. You are aMAzing. :o)
Terri Moore
just so you know…..
the blond hair is the result of a visit to the salon every 8 weeks! 🙂
Sharifa Stevens
You just made me laught SO
You just made me laugh SO hard!
Sue Bohlin
And let’s not forget. . .
. . . the pregnant lady whose husband came home from a full day of work telling her all about what he'd accomplished during the day. Then he asked snarkily, "And what did YOU do today?"
"I made a lung."
Great post, Sharifa! You rock! ::hug::
Sharifa Stevens
Noooo…YOU rock!
"I made a lung." I loooove it! Can't say that anymore, but I am in awe that I can make food – how trippy is that?
Leslie Ann
Me TOO!
The ability to produce food for my child from my own body tripped me out too! But I'm so glad she's weaned – because that means that someone else can get up and feed her breakfast on the weekends!
I'm with you on being tired. I'm convinced that everyone's tired – some women just hide it better than others.
Tricia Scruggs
Sharifa – I just had to click
Sharifa – I just had to click on such an intriguing blog title. Wow! Wow! Wow! So needed this today. Thank you for sharing the prose God gives you. I'm gonna tuck this one in my files for future ref, especially those days when it seems like everyone else is producing and I'm just breathing. 🙂
Sharifa Stevens
Thanks, Tricia!
I am glad the title was intriguing…I wrote it and thought, "That's too extreme! And…that's my gut thought right now!"
I wondered if I was alone on feeling this way, especially because I surround myself with PHENOMENAL women like you. I think that writing this encouraged me the most, truth be told…
…because as I type, I'm doing it one-handed because these days the baby won't sleep at ALL if he's not within 2 inches of me. I am a baby hostage.
Breathing is producing in my world, so you're doing great!
jcramer
The Heralded Mundane should
The Heralded Mundane should be the title of your book. Seriously.
Well done!
J
Sharifa Stevens
hmm…
…I love your idea, as long as we co-author that book, jcramer.
Shannon
yes, yes!!! I 2nd that
yes, yes!!! I 2nd that motion…. fabu stuff here, sis, FABU!! I had a Monday like that – in this order: get K to school late, sit at McD's with MA and the nannies (that make me once again wonder about certain aspects of my life – not that the nannies aren't nice. they are – they're amazing…anyway…), get baby poop on my shirt and shorts (and not a change of clothes in sight), drop MA off late to school, go to Target & nurse baby in the cafe there (and this is all before 10 am)…. and the day didn't get much better. This is amazing encouragment for days (weeks? months? years?) that go like this, Sha. I love you!
Sharifa Stevens
You’re Kidding
You went through ALL that before 10 am? Good night, Irene (as a dear friend of mine would say)!
I wrote the poop-on-the-shirt thing because it happened to me QUITE recently, but I am glad – and mortified – to know that you, and maybe others, resonate with that wondrous experience as well.
But you oughta know that I seriously suspect that you have P31 tattooed to your backside. Yeah, you. Because you're marvelous. :o)
Shannon
ps
I'm pretty sure that P 31 sometimes had baby poop on her outfit, and even when people appear perfect, there's something broken somewhere…cause that's just how people are. Sometimes I like to think that I'm the only one broken, but that's why God gives us community (like the one here!) to remind us that we're not alone. Helps me not feel so isolated when I remember that!
Kay Daigle
I remember!
Sharifa,
Your post reminds me of my own years with small children. Hang in there! As Solomon so wisely told us, there is a time and a season for everything. Fruit at the mommy season of life is different from that in the empty nest or as a single. You are so right that far too often we have pre-determined what kind of fruit God is going to produce; we like what we see in someone else's life and expect it for ourselves. But busyness doesn't always produce real fruit! I see the seeds of many bushels of fruit to come from you because you are learning to accept God's choice of fruit for its own season.
Sharifa Stevens
Chock-Full
How did you pack so much goodness into a single paragraph? It's like a warm, melty chocolate chip cookie with an overload of gooey morsels. Thank you!
Boy does this resonate:
I need spiritual blinders so I can stay in my life lane, confident that the Lord's yoke is easy and His burden, light.
Jessie Brown
Thanks
Thank you! It's so easy to get wrapped in what you're not accomplishing that you forget just being there for your kiddo as a Mommy and being faithful in it is all God requires of me for this season in my life! Guess that homemade loaf of bread can be put off for ANOTHER day! ;0)
Sharifa Stevens
Homemade Bread Can Wait…
…but people, can't. Jessie, hats-off to you for making homemade bread!!! I am right there with you: I have a task list, and I fall short. I compare myself to others, and I fall short.
I spend good time with my little one, my husband, my family and friends, my Lord…I have no regrets.
I guarantee that I won't remember the task list in 5, 10, 20 years. I can almost guarantee you won't remember not making the homemade bread today. :o) If only I would let this truth could guide me consistently.
I'm so glad for God's grace!
Tombat
?
I don't understand how any woman can read the bible and not be sick to her stomach. The bible is beyond sexist and the people that wrote it hate women. The bible states that a woman should be submissive and not allowed to speak in church, if she has a question she must wait and ask her husband at home. It also says that if a woman ha a Son she is unclean for a week, but if she has a daughter she is unclean for two weeks. It also states that If a woman is raped, she is to be dragged out into the street and stoned to death by all of the men in the village. There are so, so many more instances of blatant hatred and sexism that I won't go into but my question is this: how a a woman can you support and believe in something that absolutely hates you? I'm no even a woman and this makes me want to throw up. Think for yourselves.