Sonic The Hedgehog

 

Sonic The Hedgehog

1 Peter 3:7 “Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life; that your prayers be not hindered.”

     Have you ever seen a woman in hard labor?  Bearing down with contractions?  That’s not my definition of the weaker vessel.  In fact, I state, behind a strong man is a strong woman.  In 2024 America, what are we to make of God’s statement?  He knows our makeup.  What feminine spirit would want a husband, conqueror?  A big ‘bring home the beef guy?’  If women are weaker vessels as China vases, then we men are clay pots with thicker sides.

     My wife collects hedgehogs – the cute, stuffed type.  Give her a round-a-bout shopping day, and she might pick up another cuddly to add to her collection.  There they are perched high on a living room shelf.  Papa and Mama are the big ones in the middle with babies about.  Some bigger even guard the dining room door. 

     This all started in Ramstein, Germany.  Sonic, I call him Sonic, came to visit.  Poking his little nose about our sliding glass door one day.  Sniffing, just sniffing.  He came and went curiously sparking our imaginations and setting down a memory both my wife and I share.

     But here’s the reaction.  I don’t collect the soft, furry things.  She does.  I have seen one in captivity do a number on a fresh worm.  Cute and cuddly turned viscous!  Surprised me.

     I would say, women in general are given to cute and cuddly things.  This makes them great baby caretakers.

     My response to my wife’s soft spot for hedgehogs?  I respect her delicate feelings for them.  Those are her pretties.  They are strictly off-limits to the grandkids if they are rough playing.  Oh, she might take one down to show briefly, but back they go to safety after that.

     Am I a man?  What do I collect?  Not things that would emotionally pull me down if a twister hit the house.  I got my stuff.  It reminds me of the kids.  Few bits and pieces here and there. But this house is Anne Cvrk.  It is an outward expression of her inner self.  She holds many things dear not just for the practicality they serve.  I ask her permission before I make rearrangements.  I have learned to seek counsel before wantonly pitching things to garbage.  End up with a cold night’s sleep like that.

     Are women different than men?  I think God knows.  Those differences make our existence very exciting.  Could be in the workplace or out on the softball field.  Our vantage points differ not to mention shifts within the same language.  God is a God of spice.  He teases us by shaking on the oregano then following up with Cajon.  We are complex and that is the unique blend He is after.

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