My Virtuous Woman

I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation last night, and how I possibly could have screwed that up. Still don’t know. My brain’s not all there most of the time, so I end up saying things I don’t mean on a regular basis. Then I can’t remember what I actually said, so it’s no help.

But after last night, I do want to try to make good on what I meant to say.

I meant to say that I’m worried these days, not that anything permanently bad will happen, but that I am missing some essential thing I should be doing to make things easier for you. I see me, doing my job, and still enjoying my job; and it feels really unfair, because as important as I believe my job is, what you do on a daily basis is just as important, and a way harder job than mine is—and that’s not even taking into account how you sacrifice your own translating work so I can be a pastor to this church.

I was thinking of the “virtuous woman” in , and I can’t think of another time in our marriage when this passage has applied to you more than it does now. This industrious, intelligent, very hard-working woman, whose husband trusts in her (and who has no lack of gain because of the trust he puts in her, v. 11). She does him good, and not harm (v. 12). She works for her family, and she works for those outside her family (v. 13-19). “She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy” (v. 20). She is strong, and dignified when faced with hard times (v. 25). She is wise, and kindly teaches others, including her kids (v. 26). She works hard to provide for her family and rarely gets the rest she deserves (v. 27).

This is you, to an almost ridiculous extent.

It humbles me almost to embarrassment to see how much weight is on your shoulders (figuratively and literally, since you carry Zadie most of the day), and I know how hard that weight is to bear. I was trying to say last night that I wish I had some kind of miracle solution to take that weight off: to make Z. sleep better, to have more free time and less work for the church, to make the church more mature so that it can carry itself better than it does… I feel guilty for planting the church sometimes, because as much as I believe it’s what God calls us to do wherever we happen to be, it puts weight on you that you wouldn’t otherwise have to bear, and deprives you, I’m afraid, of the kind of church community you need and would enjoy more.

I know I could do things better, and I’m always growing in those things; but there are a lot of things that are hard for you that are out of my hands, and I know you know that. So what I’m left with after thinking about it is a kind of helpless worry. But it’s a worry that’s not founded, I think. God knows what he’s doing in our family, he knows what he’s doing in you.

When I remember that, I can see things a little more clearly, and I’m just thankful—for who you are, for what you do, and for giving our kids a living, breathing example of what this virtuous woman looks like (Zadie can’t see it yet, of course, but she will). Thank you for being my kids’ mom, even in these really hard days with no sleep and a very thankless job. I know nothing I can say will make it entirely thankless, but hopefully, I can help make it less so.

I was thinking of the “virtuous woman” in , and I can’t think of another time in our marriage when this passage has applied to you more than it does now. This industrious, intelligent, very hard-working woman, whose husband trusts in her (and who has no lack of gain because of the trust he puts in her, v. 11). She does him good, and not harm (v. 12). She works for her family, and she works for those outside her family (v. 13-19). “She opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy” (v. 20). She is strong, and dignified when faced with hard times (v. 25). She is wise, and kindly teaches others, including her kids (v. 26). She works hard to provide for her family and rarely gets the rest she deserves (v. 27).

This is you, to an almost ridiculous extent.

I can’t wait to see what God does with our family: what fruit will grow over time out of the seeds you’re sowing today as you rock a crying baby, as you change diapers, as you fight to stay awake, as you temporarily put your work aside so I can do mine.

I love you baby… I love the way that you walk.

Praying for you always.