 | When I saw Picasso’s At the Cafe at the Albertina Museum in Vienna last month, I knew that Picasso had spoken the truth. |
| A woman and a man sit in a cafe, the man fully dressed with a pipe and a drink. He stares straight ahead. The woman is naked, with no food before her. Her hair is elaborately coiffed, and I can tell you--hair that big takes some time. To be sure you notice that she is naked, Picasso has painted her nipples bright pink, a color that does not appear anywhere else in the painting. She looks toward the man, and they are both silent. Why is this the truth? Because she is doing what most women I know do: she has made herself naked, and is therefore vulnerable. She made herself vulnerable, and she waits. Picasso had grasped the state that women often put ourselves in: we make ourselves vulnerable, and we wait. We do this in our family relationships, in our friendships, in our romances; we don’t do it in public, we save it for those we love. This vulnerability doesn’t make us weak, it makes us strong, because being naked (physically, mentally, or emotionally) takes a lot of nerve. Not everyone can do it. By doing so, we provide a safe environment for our loved ones. They know we’re available, and they know they can count on us because we have hidden nothing. Our nakedness, our openness, gives them the confidence to get the truth out, and that’s where healing starts. |  |
I saw the same thing when I visited Jerusalem’s Western Wall. The women outnumbered the men by far. Our section of the wall is a little shorter than the men’s section, but the women lined up to get spots at the crowded wall while the men had plenty of space to spread out. The women touched the wall, leaned on it, tucked prayers into the cracks between the stones, read scriptures, rocked back and forth. We did it all shoulder to shoulder, aware of each other’s whispers, sniffs, moans, sighs. As soon as a space opened up, another woman stepped into it.
I asked the attendant if there were always more women than men, and she said that on ordinary days there were always more women. On holy days, men have special prayers to pray, so there are more men on those days. I asked her why so many more women come to pray, and she said, “Because their prayers are more powerful.” I don’t know if that’s the answer you’d get from everybody, but I found it quite touching.
Those women are doing the heavy lifting of their religion. They know their people’s problems intimately because they were vulnerable with their loved ones at home, and now they are taking those issues to God and making themselves vulnerable before him. They make themselves doubly vulnerable, because at home and in prayer there are no guarantees that you’ll get the answer you want.
How do we make ourselves vulnerable? We give out hugs and kisses. We learn everybody’s love language, even if it’s not our own, and use it when needed. We proofread. We cheer them on while they do their thing. We bring food. We tell our loved ones how we really feel about Obamacare or abortion or the Treaty of Versailles. You may have been physically clothed while doing those things, but the barriers you broke down left nothing at all between you and your loved ones.
Disclaimer: I am not criticizing men or downplaying their roles. I am not trying to make women who don’t feel this way feel bad. I’m not advising women to put themselves in harm’s way, and I’m certainly not glorifying any lifestyle that treats women as doormats. I’ve just noticed something strange and wonderful about us, and it makes me happy.
By the way, when we willingly make ourselves vulnerable, nobody can take advantage of us because it was our decision. Try to take advantage of me, and I’ll wrap myself in a towel and hit the road before you can say Lady Godiva. We know when, where, and how to be there for our people.
So next time your adult child calls you in the middle of the night, or your girlfriend needs a shoulder to cry on, or your mom tells you where her will is, or your man spills his guts about that thing at work, you’ll know you have succeeded. You were vulnerable to them, and they took you up on your offer. You won’t solve every problem, but you’ll make it possible for your loved ones to start solving theirs.
It’s not weakness, it’s strength.
PREVIOUS: Salzburg Fortress
NEXT: Sometimes You Need a Tour: Israel
Those women are doing the heavy lifting of their religion. They know their people’s problems intimately because they were vulnerable with their loved ones at home, and now they are taking those issues to God and making themselves vulnerable before him. They make themselves doubly vulnerable, because at home and in prayer there are no guarantees that you’ll get the answer you want.
How do we make ourselves vulnerable? We give out hugs and kisses. We learn everybody’s love language, even if it’s not our own, and use it when needed. We proofread. We cheer them on while they do their thing. We bring food. We tell our loved ones how we really feel about Obamacare or abortion or the Treaty of Versailles. You may have been physically clothed while doing those things, but the barriers you broke down left nothing at all between you and your loved ones.
Disclaimer: I am not criticizing men or downplaying their roles. I am not trying to make women who don’t feel this way feel bad. I’m not advising women to put themselves in harm’s way, and I’m certainly not glorifying any lifestyle that treats women as doormats. I’ve just noticed something strange and wonderful about us, and it makes me happy.
By the way, when we willingly make ourselves vulnerable, nobody can take advantage of us because it was our decision. Try to take advantage of me, and I’ll wrap myself in a towel and hit the road before you can say Lady Godiva. We know when, where, and how to be there for our people.
So next time your adult child calls you in the middle of the night, or your girlfriend needs a shoulder to cry on, or your mom tells you where her will is, or your man spills his guts about that thing at work, you’ll know you have succeeded. You were vulnerable to them, and they took you up on your offer. You won’t solve every problem, but you’ll make it possible for your loved ones to start solving theirs.
It’s not weakness, it’s strength.
PREVIOUS: Salzburg Fortress
NEXT: Sometimes You Need a Tour: Israel