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10 February 2017


In the middle of the morning, in the middle of busyness, I sat at an intersection, waiting on red to turn to green and considered the treasure of the women I live among. On that day even before 10 o'clock, I knew that there were friends conspiring how to encourage one of our favorite widows who had been waylaid by a recent series of unfortunate events. I knew that a dear one was caring for a little one, a last minute arrival at her door at the very start of the day. We were making arrangements for kids to be delivered from point a to point b, and thinking about feeding people, and diagnosing sniffles and snuffles. My friend was teaching my girls and I was playing peek-a-boo with her boy.

Little did I know that later in the day, these ladies would rescue me when I was far away, intervening for my family when I could not, compassionately soothing a sojourner in need and yet protecting my girls besides. This is the community I trust with all of life's curves, the ones whose "works praise her in the gates." 

By modern standards, perhaps there's not much status for a wife whose work is to be at home. After 25 years without pay, I have no Social Security credits to show my contribution. I have heard about myself, and maybe even uttered, "... ah, just at home with my kids." But when I think of these women in like place, I know that their worth is "far more precious than jewels." They care for the widow and the orphan and the stranger. They show ready hospitality. They "reach out their hand to the needy." Simply, they love well. And perhaps that is among the best example of "clothed in strength and dignity" that I can think of.

Press on, sisters.

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