Where are all the MEN?
I did not want her to see how angry I was, so I stood quiet.
She was weeping those tears that come from a heart that has faced the truth.
Her husband would not become a man.
I comforted her, told her I loved her and told her that her community would stand beside her. I made her promise to check in with me every 24 hours until she could breathe without it hurting. I looked around took note of what she would need. Then I took a deep breath and got in my truck to head home.
I backed out of her driveway and took the first corner before I let the Lord have it.
I ranted. I raved. I yelled at the steering wheel. I bit my lip to hold back tears but I cried anyway. I clenched my jaw and I gripped the steering wheel.
All the while one thought ran through my mind.
WHERE ARE ALL THE MEN???
I had been in her shoes 5 years before. Standing in the place of facing the fact that my husband would not be a man. Because of his refusal I lost everything. Everything. It took a very long time for my Abba to put my life together. It took longer for him to put my heart together.
I pulled into my driveway and through the gate. When I stopped my truck I turned the key and put my forehead on the wheel. The anger had turned over and over until it molded into a ball of questions.
Do they not see the power they have?
Do they not know that they are deeply needed?
Do they not see the power they have to guide children into a life of peace?
Do they not know that their love is the grounding force in their families life?
Do they see that choosing pornography over permanent intimacy is a razor to the woman’s soul?
Do they see that choosing television over playing and teaching rips a hole in the heart of a child?
Do they see that their attentive presence is the power that is needed to provide safety in the home?
Do they know that their children need their approval?
Do they think about their responsibilities as much as their pleasures?
Do they have any idea that they are abandoning their calling??
How can a man who has made a commitment to a woman go and find another to use at the same time?
Where is integrity?
Where is honor?
Where is honesty?
Where is sacrifice?
Where is selflessness?
WHERE ARE ALL THE MEN?
I slammed my truck door and went up the deck steps, though the kitchen door and into my room. I dropped my butt on my bed and crossed my arms.
Too many women and children are living without men in their lives. Too many. Way too many.
I unhinged my angry jaw and took an accusing breath. I was about to spit another question at heaven when I felt the mattress give next to me. My eyes shot open and my tongue prepared to shoot, but his face stopped me cold.
He was as angry as I.
Eyes of fire and a set jaw looked through me. His passion lit my soul and set it ablaze. I could not look away from him if I had tried. Instead I waited for the words that would show me his holiness.
He spoke with the power of eternity.
“They choose, Child. They choose. This is not my will.”
I dropped my eyes as the truth further ignited the flames in my soul.
His voice cracked like lightning.
“They care not for anything but themselves. That is why they do what they do. They don’t love, Child.”
I winced. That truth I knew. I had been raised by a single mother and a string of unholy males who had never become men. I learned young that the world was full of hurtful males. It took the healing power of God to get me to the place where I could believe there were good men in this fallen world.
But that day, I was tired. I had been with yet another woman who had not married a man. She had been promised a man, she had believed he was a man, she had done all she could do help him toward greater manhood. He had still left her…and two toddlers…to survive on their own.
I wanted to ask the flame behind those eyes if I could just shake some of them. I wanted to grab them by the shoulders and demand they answer the question:
“Do you know what you are doing to those God entrusted to your care?!?”
I knew he would not let me. I also knew why. I would not be heard.
I was helpless to stop males from refusing to be men. I am, after all, a woman. Men need to lead men into manhood. I wanted to belt out another question.
Where are the men who will train the young to be men???
I grabbed his hands and tried not to cry.
“Abba, won’t you do something?? Will you please put a stop to all this?? Will you make them see? Please? I don’t want another woman to have to call me because the male who was supposed to be a source of life to her has become a life destroyer.”
He gritted his teeth and shook his head slightly back and forth. An unidentifiable tear filled the corner of his eye. I was not sure if it was sadness for the family or rage at the males.
“I tell them, Child. I tell them in the tears of their wives. I tell them in the somber pouting of their sons. I tell them in the wailing sorrow of their daughters. I tell them when their boys pick up dope in hopes they will find the love that is missing in their souls. I tell them when their daughters give their bodies away so that for one moment they can feel valued. I tell them in the spiritual emptiness in their homes. I tell them in their own unhappiness. I tell them.”
It was my turn to set my jaw and shake my head.
“Abba, why do they not see? They could make a difference. They could start over. They could refuse to do anything that is not manly.”
He let go of my hands and looked through my ceiling. I wondered if he were counting the stars he had breathed into space.
“Beloved, they love themselves. They love their pleasure. They love their pride. They love power. They do not love their God, and thus, they do not love their families.”
I knew the answer I would get but I said it anyway.
“But these are people who go to church. They are people who claim to love you. They are people who tell others how great you are.”
“They love themselves, Child. Church or no church, they are in love with their own wants. My people do not sacrifice anymore. I long for the sacrifice of a broken heart and a broken spirit that knows it needs me. I long for a sacrifice that will give up self for the sake of others. I long for sacrifice that is willing to do anything so that others can have life. They may talk it, but they do not live it.”
That tear in the corner of his eye fell, identifying itself with his grief.
I stood with him and he pulled me into his mighty arms.
“Lord, I am weary of picking up the pieces males leave behind them. It is chaos, hurt, loneliness, poverty, and so much more.”
He stroked my hair.
“I am the husband to the husbandless and the father to the fatherless.”
I knew that all too well. He is both to me.
I leaned into him and he strengthened my heart, my will and my strength. Then he let me go.
I could not let him leave without asking.
“Abba will you send us some men? Some real men who behave as men? We are so in need.”
He kissed my forehead.
“I am calling them, Child. Everyday I call them.”
As he walked out my door I pursed my lips and thought for a moment before speaking again.
“I want them to answer.”
He disappeared around the corner but his answer hung heavy in the air.
“I want them to answer too, Beloved.”