DISCLAIMER

This blog is where I record a limited depiction of my feelings, family, and faith. My blog was recently under intense scrutiny, and so I feel this disclaimer is necessary. I try to tell my story as openly as I can, but this blog represents a cropped and narrow-viewed version of my story -- like all social media -- it is NOT the full story. Many events happen behind the scenes that are not recorded or written about, due to the sensitive nature of others involved. Life has many layers. Many layers can be shared and many cannot, and this blog is simply a layer of my life that I allow others to view, but it is not an accurate depiction of all the layers of my life.

Skirts

Just a few more brief thoughts on the topic, and then I will jump off of my soapbox, and move on . . .  

 I think that women are extraordinarily beautiful, and powerful -- even in skirts! Perhaps, especially in skirts! This movement for pant-wearing to church seems redundant, and missing the point. But it has reminded me how (and why) we should dress for church (purifying our insides, not outsides). So, for that, I suppose, I am even a little grateful. 

With all of this pant vs. skirt talk, it drew my mind back to the summertime, about a year ago -- during Trek. It made me think about skirts and pants . . . and the glory of women, and the strength of men.  

On our Pioneer Trek, "Women's Pull," the men were first separated from us, and taught about the power of womanhood. After a very spiritual lesson on the value of women, the men had to stand back, lining the path for the women, but they could only watch -- in reverence and respect -- as we pulled the heavy-loaded handcarts by ourselves. No help allowed from the men. They were allowed to sing for us, (which they did) but that was it. The Women's Pull took place on the second day of Trek, and we were tired. 

 It was very hard for many of the women and girls . . . straight up the hill, loaded carts, in scorching heat, and no stopping to breath. Those handcarts are HEAVY. I was surprised by the weight, and the awkwardness of pulling them. We had already walked quite the distance, it was in the middle of the day, and we had to keep walking for miles after it was over, too. It was hard. It hurt. My heart was beating insanely fast, and my breathing was deep and painful. 
(And I had been training for it!) 
One of my "tough girls" noted how sweet it was for the men to have their hats over their hearts. She was almost giddy with the amount of respect the men were showing for the women. It was such an enormous gesture by the men. I loved it. However, I may be unusual, because I wish men would still tip their hats and offer a, "Howdy Ma'am," as I pass by on the street. Too bad those days are gone . . . I will settle for a door being opened for me, that is still a wonderful gesture of respect. 
 It was very hard to manage the load without the men. It was difficult even for some of us "tough girls." 
I'm second to the right
 But we did it. And in skirts, no less. 
 Beautiful, beautiful, strong, skirt-wearing women . . . doing amazing things. 
 Now let's look at the men, as they watched -- not able to help or assist the women . . . 
 All they could do was show reverence and respect
 Look at their faces as they watched some of the women struggle, and fall. 
 Just look at them . . . 
 If only they could help take their burdens away . . . but they were not allowed. 
For me, it was fantastic to show-off how strong we were as women, as the men looked on in admiration. I enjoyed it, a lot. But, I must say, I was more than grateful to have the men back, to help carry our heavy load!  I fancy myself a very tough girl, equal to carrying heavy burdens -- but working together, with the added strength of the men and women, made it so much easier to manage. It was a huge relief to have their help again! I am so grateful for the strength of men! What wonderful companions they make. Pulling and pushing together, as men and women, boys and girls, was the best -- no doubt about it. There was strength and beauty, all around . . . it was marvelous to behold. 

And so it is with life. 
It is such a beautiful thing, when you are equally-yoked together, moving forward, carrying each others burdens, and sharing the load . . . there is nothing better! 
Look how adorable Charles looks . . . sure love him! The blue-bonnet lady is me. 
Skirts. Pants. Whatever

Working together is what it is all about! 

Comments

  1. We actually had a sister wear pants to church last week. If only she really knew what a sacred privilege we have as women in the church and how empowering it can be when you realize that!

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