I’m not sure how many male followers I have on this blog. I don’t think it’s too many (yet), so I’m going to take a moment and speak to my ladies. (As I type this intro it reads in my mind like the start to a good, ol’ blues song!)
Ladies, a man can’t fix it for you. That’s as simple and plain as I can post it. Whatever it is that hurt you, hindered you, distracted you, discombobulated you, shocked you, stunted your (figurative) growth or in any way affected you in a way that God never designed it to a man can’t fix it for you. Are men wonderful? Absolutely! Are they a necessary part of our lives here on earth? You better know it! Can they make great boyfriends, husbands, fathers and friends? Without a doubt! But can they fix you? Not in a thousand years. In fact, the Man who can fix you already handled that about two thousand years ago. His name is Jesus. I believe, and have proof in my very own life that only through knowing Him, reading and trusting His word and believing that He cares enough to handle what hurts you can you really be healed of your hurt.
In my developmental years I probably didn’t experience nearly the amount or severity of issues that others did. I came from a great, loving, two-parent home. I had excellent education, supportive extended family, great friends, was exposed to a lot of positive things, grew up going to church, didn’t get in trouble (except for skipping school and pouting about not having my way) was never abused, never knew hunger or lack (in spite of what my selfish, teenage self thought) and pretty much enjoyed a pleasant childhood and adolescent years. Not that I was void of living life and the many surprises if often brings, but nothing was ever said or done to me by another that would negatively affect me. With all that said, I still battled with low-self esteem during parts of my teen years. My solution was to date the “popular, smart, very mischievous and very different than my own personality” guy (God rest his soul) to validate myself. Needless to say, that didn’t work and backfired in ways my tiny, teen heart couldn’t have imagined. But did that stop me from continuing down a path of thinking having a boo or being someone’s boo could fix whatever I was dealing with or feeling? No ma’am. No sir. I kept right on the “man can fix it train”. I didn’t fully grasp that a man can’t fix me until I realized that in all my attempts to fill my own voids I still ended up void, and with bags under my eyes from crying and painful lessons learned from not listening.
Pardon me as I digress, but here’s a question I wish I would have asked myself…”Dear, sweet, you don’t even know how special you are, Angela, why is it you won’t readily believe in the power of the Man who gave His life for you, but you’ll speedily believe the boy/manchild/man whom you allow to give you heartache and pain?”
Back to the blog… It wasn’t until I accepted the truth of scripture concerning how wonderfully God made me, His amazing promises for me, His desires for my future and ability to use my past and present for my good, His healing power, His undeniable ability to restore and the fact that He’s a gentleman, being certain that no one takes the credit for His creation or any fixing, remixing, updating and upgrading that said creation might require.