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She grows up in her father's orchard, in the comfort of a large family. She's pure and modest in all her ways, and eager to help in any way she can. Her eyes look clear and beautiful, full of depth of emotion, and completely pure. She is quiet, helpful, kind. Her words usually uplift, and are never critical in condescension. Her sincere, lovely eyes peer out from behind her lovely head covering, plain and simple, but, somehow accentuating her inner qualities. She is beloved of her parents, and her many brothers and sisters, of which she is in no short supply. Though physically thin, it is not from continual "exercise" or self-exertion, she simply eats no more than she needs, and is always productively preoccupied in some task to the greater benefit of the family. She is part of this whole, and apart from this whole, has little existence; in fact, every member of the family is part of this whole family unit. Every member draws near the strong, protective, kind, and leading father, and the tender, loving, always compassionate and frequently joyful nurturing mother.
The mother, indeed, reverences her husband - who is worthy of respect on every level. Her daughter learns from this, and eagerly anticipates when she too will have family of her own, an extension of her nuclear one. Her mother is quiet grace, unostentatious serving, quiet, lovely, composed nurturing, without a hint of anger or contention, like a living balm to every soul. The love her mother feels for her father is palpable. It is like an unrestrained river given the admiration she feels for him, as he works hard on his honorable callings in life. She silently listens to his thoughts and concerns, and is his helpmate in the fullest of terms. She is rapt awe of his leadings, and expresses gratitude even with just the nature of her glance towards him, upward, reverent, full of respect; in a way, to some degree, it can be said that she worships her husband, and it is very clear as to why. Her husband loves this position of honor; it is not a burden to him, nor is he high minded and narcissistic about it. He loves to be the servant leader of the household, and rather than a burden to him, he takes a fatherly pride in being this centerpiece of the home. He is an upstanding man with God and others at the forefront of his thoughts. He always seeks to do what is right, and beneficial, with a long-term vision. He is quiet, hard working, honest, and deeply emotional in a subdued, masculine way: he is present. He gives of his time and energies, even outside of work - he is present for every member of the family, and the powerhouse and strong arm of the whole thing. He is serious, and not given to frivolous joking or activities that do not profit. He is focused, and dedicated, and self-sacrificing, and just being in his presence inspires confidence; his natural gravity pulls the rest of the family around him like satellites in his orbit. To some extent, he is a mirror image of God to the family, an image he cultivates with humility and fervor - trying wholeheartedly to obtain this precious thing. Being this identity is important for him, and failure in it brings him self-correcting chastisement from his own conscience; he does not need external correction, and is never the subject of a nagging wife, because he already is working so hard to meet this image that, all his wife can do is support him in this venture, which is a heavy cross for him to bear - given that, in the end, he is human like all of us. The whole family sees his effort on this note - he is the sustainer of them all - physically - but also spiritually. Because of this, because of this deep, complete, total submission to their service as a mirror image of God, they revere and worship him, from the mother, to the sons and daughters, to the pets of the family - and each tries in their own way to make him happy, and meet his standards, and grow like happy plants in his presence.
The house experiences great peace because of this. There is no misalignment in values. The father is in lock step with the Lord, and like a river smoothing all opposition in its flowing direction, this order helps every other member to align with noble, right, pure roles and goals. The mother turns to him like a flower turns to the sun, not only her source of physical sustenance, but the very definition of her being and worth. To serve him and their children is therefore her entire life, and she functions not really as an independent human at all, but rather, as an extension of him. And what a beautiful extension - demure, quiet, self-controlled, organized, given to beautifying, silent, joyful service with few spoken words - because, here glances suffice given the depth of emotional connection. The two - father and mother - prefer each other, and their mutual company to anything else - not in a vain, carnal, worthless way - but, in a deep, spiritual, ineffable way. They are the deepest of partners. They are so indistinguishable in their values and priorities - that though they have separate callings - the father to provide, and the mother to support and nurture and care-take - they are effectively one unit when it comes to all things spiritual and any deeper topic. Far from the gaudiness of a worldly dance, their very lives are a sort of graceful ballet of giving, with all its intimacy - dances better reserved exclusively for the privacy of a bedroom - in which, worshipful intercourse would be had, and not just physical emptiness. I would imagine that sort of intercourse would be like the extension of a deep, and heartfelt conversation, a trusting submission, an act of reverence and passion - not, just, some physical appreciation of each other's bodies. The whole soul of the two would bend in a beautiful interchange: the man, in perfect control and dominion, the woman, in rapt adoration and submission - as expressed in this meaningful, private act. I would imagine this would be the only time the woman would be seen in any state of undress or anything revealing her bodily curves at all to any serious extent. Certainly she would never be salaciously dancing in public, or posting pictures or videos of herself for all the world to see.
No rather, she would be like a private flower, growing in a hidden garden. Soft, beautiful, moon-lit in tones of delicate grace. Delicate, I think that would be the right word. Pure, delicate, like a fragile flower, you hold it, and you have to be gentle because you might crumple it. It doesn't have any real protection, the orchard is its protection. It cannot live in full sun, but quietly peeps out from the shade - a thing of extraordinary beauty, yet, hidden from all but the eyes of the orchard-owner. A right minded woman is therefore her husband's private treasure, uncalloused by the hardships of the world, protected by him, and quietly, delicately reverencing him in total sincerity outside the eyes of the world.
His daughters, like replicas.
Quiet gardens of flowers among shady dark leaves in private courtyards shielded far from the influences of the world.
How can any of this be without a right minded father?
How can any woman be this sort of flower, without a husband to inspire her being this way? How can any flower live without "time and attention", and the unspoken sensation that she is this pleasing flower to her husband.
Wouldn't it be a cosmic crime for this leader of the family to just go off into some fantasy land - leaving his very real wife and children completely bereft of this stabilizing influence? For what reason this total rejection of his own bodily half? To say to dead pixels on the screen "you are my wife, the mother of my children, and the sole recipient of 8 hours a day of my time, outside of work"; "to you I will give my soul, my heart's devotion - my real wife and children just aren't worth this investment" - who can reverence that?
How can a flower exist without a gardener? Or with a distracted gardener, who has "other interests" - none of which include the beauty of shared conversation on any shared common ground. Like the common ground of faith, and all its outgrowths.
What a paucity of such gardeners there are to begin with. One flower gets such a one, but she mars her beauty by publicly boasting to those who may not have such gifts, of her great gift. Couldn't she keep it in private, being sensitive to the reality at hand? Having a good thing, must she also publicly flaunt it, such that others who have less feel the dearth?
There's something to be said about the beauty of privacy. It would be great, therefore, to do with these showy offpourings like Facebook and the like. I would gladly be rid of them all.
There's a fine line between writing to inspire others, and writing for the sole purpose of showing off your better hand.
And yet the irony is, I believe God could do with every man just what is written above. I believe He could do with every woman and child, just the same.
Why hasn't it been so in our lives? Is it because of my own internal deficits? My lack of prayer? My failure to discern at the right time in my life the utter need for my spouse to not just be a half-hearted Christian, but the full expression of the faith?
And now, are these conclusions utterly barred from me? Must I spend the rest of my life gazing from without on a lost ideal that the world tries so hard to put a permanent eraser to?
I see like apples of gold in pictures of silver, images of just such relationships. How I wish I could translate them to my reality.
I love Clyde Squires. What an artist! What a cheap trade to take the deranged "artists" of today, and leave this artist in the dust of time.
God how beautiful his Springtime Original Lithograph! What GRACE in the subjects. And his pictures of the enduring love of the elderly, phenomenal. "The Ages of Love" has to be one of the most fantastic pieces of art I have ever seen.
Where can I buy this sort of family? Where can I buy their peace, their purity, their gracefulness, their loveliness, inside and out? To what school can I send my children *so they might have that*.
It's exquisite.
My only hope for that is probably heaven.
He must have had a vision of heaven to have drawn such beauty, which is totally absent from my life.
If only I could have another life, such that I might live and effect such graceful beauty!
Alas, I am just a destroyed thing, in a destroyed, fallen, unspeakably gaudy world, where I have defiled myself in sin, and, where my husband refuses to get on board and depart from the vain things of the world as well. Perhaps it's a "demonic stronghold".
If I fast and pray, will God give me the victory or...is this not even obtainable here. Is this such an other-worldly goal that this world simply cannot hold any such thing, cannot contain a beautiful family any more. Is this my plight alone, or, is it just a personal failing. Do others do what I can only dream of with ease? Or have they completely abdicated the effort, traded it for unspeakably gaudy gyrating and godless disney movies?
I will try to maintain the utopia inside our home, as best as is possible, with only me holding this vision.
It's hard to be an unwanted flower.
At least I can try to not mar what's left of me by becoming nagging and sarcastic in my bitterness.
I must just patiently wait for another world.
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