Imagine A Flower

Imagine, for a moment, will you?

Imagine you find out that a flower is being created just for you. Now, perhaps you didn't particularly want or need a flower. You might not even really feel like taking on the responsibility of watering and caring for it, but, nonetheless, this flower is unique. It is special. It will be created as a reflection of you. It will bear traits and characteristics that you display. Even more amazing, you'll be given the opportunity to shape and influence how the flower grows and turns out. Generations will look upon this flower and those bloomed from its seeds and remember you.

It is empowering. It is exciting. There is something breathtakingly wonderful about knowing that you are about to have an impact on an incredible new creation.

Before you can get your hands on this amazing flower, however, someone else must tend it first. She'll be in charge of making sure it gets adequate light and nutrients, that it is well cared for. It's still your flower, at least in part, and still reflects part of you. But, for now, you must simply wait in the wings until the precious new growth gets bigger.

It's a little scary, really, to have such a vested interest in this little flower and to have to just sit and watch someone else care for it. But it's okay. After all, she is someone you've been close to, someone you've shared with before. Surely she'll do a good job. And, really, you have no choice but to trust her.

As time passes, you realize just how much you want to see that amazing flower designed by our Creator just for you. How much you want to have a role in helping it flourish. How the inconvenience pales next to the beauty. You eagerly await the day you can play a role in the nurturing too.

As long as she lets that day come. Because it is her choice. Never yours. Because you are not the one called to care for it first, you don't count. It matters not that you CAN'T do the tending; you don't count.

This is why I believe in fathers' rights. This is why it's not just "her body, her choice" to me. This is why, as a woman, I feel compelled to stand up for a man.

This is why.

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