Men Like Trees

My relationship with Christian brothers and how I see them, interact with them, and love them has changed drastically over the years.

I spent most of my life as the athletic tom-boy who is just "one of the guys." I would hang out with any guy, or group of guys, that asked, at any hour of the day or night. But things began to radically change the more I asked the Holy Spirit into my life.

For the most part, I believe my heart in re-defining and refining my male friendships was pure. But this spring I was challenged on that point.

I remember like it was last night, one of my beloved Bible study leaders stood outside with me after a study where I had shared an abundance about my past. She lovingly hugged me and affirmed that I'd been through a lot. I remember her telling me how some people are just called to suffer so many injustices and that it just never seemed to make sense. She encouraged me by pointing out that I took blame for my own sin in my story, never down-playing the consequences that were justified by my disobedience, but so much of the pain in my life was unjustified. So, she sat and prayed with me that I would experience greener pastures.

I over-analyze everything, so in pride I'm often shocked when someone points out something in my life I hadn't already thought about. So thank the Lord Deb is such a wise woman. She pointed out that my deepest wounds and pain all came from men, and out of loving concern she told me to be careful to not grow embittered towards men, as she'd seen it happen from other women with stories like mine.

I was dumb-founded by her observation. I had always loved being around men, it never occurred to me that I could grow to dislike or distrust even Godly men. Because of this I wanted to brush off what she said, but I so respect her wisdom that I spent the night chewing on what she said.

And boy, was she right. This last spring semester I had thrown myself head-first into ministry with the women I led in Bible study and discipled. I thought this was a great thing. It was their last semester here after leading them for years, so I convinced myself that I was making them a priority and justified my semester-long shunning of anything with a Y-chromosome.

Surrounding yourself with same-sex friends is one thing, a good thing. But getting angry when men are around is a whole other thing. For months I put absolutely no effort into sustaining my friendships with any of them. And I was in complete denial. I wasn't doing this for the benefit of their hearts or mine, I was acting in fear. Men to me represented pain, and if there were no men in my life, I couldn't get hurt.

I immediately took this realization to the Lord, repenting of my anger and mistrust of His sons, but not entirely ready to give it up.

But, boy did my ever-faithful Papa deliver. Within days He brought more amazing men into my life than I could ever ask for. Thankfully, these weren't romantic suitors either, as that wasn't what I needed, they were completely and 100% friends. They brought me cookies and cupcakes and polar pops after my car accident, they encouraged me to be a better woman of God, they trusted me and asked my counsel on things. They loved me in a way I'd never been loved by men and they did it through the context of completely and wonderfully pure friendships.

I fell in love with men this summer. Not romantically, but I spent the last two years loving women and female fellowship (which I still adore). But, this summer, God gave me a heart for men. He helped me to understand them, to love them in our differences, and most importantly, to respect them.

Then, as I so often do, I took an amazing gift from God and turned it into an idol. Today God used some scripture, and a few great words from Beth Moore to open my eyes and allow me to see men as He wants me to. As just that, men.

Now, this is a confusing verse, and I'm not sure Beth's interpretation is how most would take it, but it worked for me today. Which I suppose is one of the great mysteries of God's Word, that He reserves the right to retain His mystery. (And, if you have a different interpretation, please share! I love hearing others thoughts).

"Jesus came to Bethsaida; and they brought a blind man to Him, and begged Him to touch him. So He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the town. And when He had spit on his eyes and put His hands on him, He asked him if he saw anything. And he looked up and said, "I see men like trees, walking." Then He put His hands on his eyes again and made him look up. And he was restored and saw everyone clearly." Mark 8:22-25

What struck Beth odd, and now strikes me odd as well, is that there was a partial healing here. In every other Gospel story, and really in almost all of scripture I'd argue, when there was a physical healing it was a full healing. The person, blind, paralytic, dead, demon-possessed, whatever the case, they came out from Jesus' healing hand completely restored.

Not here.

"I see men like trees, walking."

His sight wasn't fully restored, he could make out men, but not clearly. His vision wasn't fully healed.

"He put his hands on his eyes again and made him look up. And he was restored and saw everyone clearly."

Now, I tend to believe Jesus could have healed this man the first time, which means God was showing us something else here.

Here's Beth's interpretation. This man's first view of the world is the way we can sometimes see the world. Our view is distorted, and as a result of our flesh and emotions, we "see men like trees, walking." They're not peers, not fellow humans. Our female eyes build tall pillars to place most men on top of. This is not to say that our brothers are not amazing men, who are fearfully and wonderfully made. Nor is it to say they don't deserve love or respect.

The problem comes when we as women stop seeing them as fellow sinners with imperfections. The problem is when we see them as infallible gods who can do no wrong, and then we place all our hopes and dreams on them instead of the Lord. When we do this, we kill our beloved brothers with unfair expectations, and we run to the Lord with broken hearts wondering why these men couldn't save us. Amazing men, who are already wrought with their own insecurities, self-doubts, weaknesses, and fears of failure, feel this weight even stronger when we see them as nothing more than strong, towering, mighty, muscular trees.

If women hang their hopes on women, or vice-versa, they're not seeing clearly.

I love what Beth's daughter says about her husband. "I am so blessed. He only gains my respect as time goes on. I've seen him grow like crazy, but it also occurs to me that the devil doesn't want to trip up any man on earth more than a man like him. He's a great guy, but he's just flesh and blood just like the rest of us. God has taught me not to put any confidence in the flesh." Here, she's not speaking ill of her husband, she sees him as a wonderful man, worthy of respect, but she refuses to see him as an invincible tree, walking.

Luckily, when our vision is blurry and we fail to see things through God's eyes, He fully restores us by having us look up.

Perhaps I am the blind man (woman) in Mark's gospel. "He asked [her] if [she] saw anything. And [she] looked up and said, 'I see men like trees, walking.' Then He put His hands on [her] eyes again and made [her] look up."

It is my prayer that when my vision is blurry and selfish, that I will not fight God's hand, gently lifting my chin heavenward, to gaze upon Him and His glory. I pray to see men as men, no longer like trees. I pray I will not minimize them, feminize them, or idolize them, but rather I will pray for them, walk next to them, respect them, and intercede for them as brothers who need the Lord as desperately as I do. I've seen men as both gods and devils, but now I pray I see them as men with God-given wisdom, and feet of clay. And I pray for restored vision, and that God will continue to prune me and remind me that, ironically, we see things more clearly when we're looking up.