There is one thing I envy about men.

Not that as they age they become better looking and more dignified.  (Although, that really isn’t fair.)

Not that they can sleep through a crying newborn on any surface available. (Though, that isn’t fair, either.)

Not even that their shaving activities include (for most at least!) only everything above the neck. (This might be the most unfair of all.)

No, my jealousy lies in their ability to compartmentalize.  The fact that they can put any given thing that happens to them into a tidy little box that they will deal with if and when they choose.  Their boxes don’t touch each other and stay neatly where they’re “meant to be”.  They can take that “situation” out and put it back with little effort.  This works out nicely for them.

I, as a woman, am incapable of such talent.  I don’t have boxes.  I just have one big treasure chest of “things” that happen.  They are all in their together – my stuff, other people’s stuff.  My worries and commitments and must do’s.  Any one thing touches everything else.  Balls of string and yarn intertwined and impossible to separate. My things (situations, people concerns, intruding thoughts) can’t fit in a tidy little box because they are always connected to the whole mass of everything else.  Any given thing will effect every other thing.

Not being able to stuff things into separate boxes is problematic.  You see, my “treasure chest” of yarn is connected, too.  To ME.  I try to go about my daily business, but the treasure chest is attached to MY chest.  Its weight pulls down.  Its massiveness blocks my view.  The tangle of string and yarn tie up my hands and feet and render me immobile, unable to do the things I want to do.  Everything in me wants to find a way to separate all my stuff, wrap each of them up nicely into little yarn and string balls and put them in little manageable boxes.  But try as I might, I just can’t.  And sometimes the weight of the treasure chest is heavier than I can bear alone.

I know that God created men and women differently.  Both in His image, but with different wiring.  In His infinite wisdom He made us to fill in each other’s gaps and to strengthen each other’s weaknesses.  Still, for one day I’d love to know what it would feel like to be able to have individual, easily reached and easily put-away, boxes.

I don’t think that will ever happen.   So to balance out the weight of the yarn and string jumble, I need to take on something else.  It seems counterintuitive. But Jesus said it, so I believe it.

Matthew 11:29 – Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 

I looked up the definition of “yoke” – a wooden bar or frame by which two draft animals (as oxen) are joined at the heads or necks for working together.  I love that.  Jesus is saying, “Yep, there’s a lot of work to do.  Heavy work. But put on this yoke of mine.  It puts our heads together to do this thing together.  It makes your load lighter.  It joins us.  It reminds you that you will never be alone.  It keeps us close.”

Apparently, Jesus isn’t afraid of my heavy treasure chest of unending, tangled, string and yarn.  He wants to help me.   He never meant for me to carry it alone.  And suddenly, the weight shifts and I feel relief.  He adjusts the load and my vision clears.  I can move my hands and feet and move forward.

And once again, it’s really good to be a woman 🙂

Matthew 11:28 – Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”