Of God & Woman on a sunny Sunday morning

There are certain universal questions that we ask ourselves as human beings…Is there a God? Why are we here? The answer to these is as fleeting as a falling star and as difficult to grasp as eating Jell-o with chop sticks.

Maybe a different approach is in order. Maybe we need to fall back and reevaluate the premise that there is a tangible answer or explanation to these questions.

Alfred Lord Tennyson once wrote, “I am a part of all that I have met.” Yet another luminary, Louise Bogan, said this, “The initial mystery that attends each journey is: how did the traveller reach his starting point in the first place?” And on introspection another wise person exclaimed, “No journey carries one far unless, as it extends into the world around us, it goes an equal distance into the world within.”

The one mutuality we all share is the desire to know that our presence on this Earth has somehow effected and impacted those around us. But how do we measure the impact of our own existence? Simple, we don’t. The power is not ours and it will never be. We are no more capable of measuring the force of our life than the fish is capable of measuring how much water it displaces as it swims through the ocean. How do we measure the impact our lives have had on the human condition? We don’t, that power belongs only to our creator, to God.

The singular pursuit of being human should be that of creation and imagination. To build cathedrals in the sky, to fly on the wings of passion and imagination, to dream what was once thought impossible. To feel, if but for one fleeting moment, that we have been touched by the finger of God. And as a man the touch of the Almighty can be found in one place, a woman’s heart.

Men of America here this...women are perfect. For all their maddening idiocyncracies and illogical tendencies women are and always have been God's most sublime creation. The big guy up above was certainly at the top of his game when the fairer sex was molded. Michaelangelo chiseling the statue of David, Da Vinci painting the Last Supper, and the literary works of Shakespere are Earthly examples of inspired creation but they all pale by comparison to the divine female form. Women are possessed of a rare combination of beauty, intelligence, and an unfathomable capacity for caring and nurturing. The soft curves of the female body belie the inner strength and dignity these creatures possess. God brought his A game to the table the day Woman was created.

Before my grandfather had passed away in 1993, he knew the love of a good woman. He was so devoted to his wife of 47 years he chose to die at home close to my grandmother as cancer ravaged his body. Hospice was not an option. Nursing homes are too sterile. Hospitals too impersonal. Besides, he wouldn't have been able to spend his last days with the woman he loved. He died literally in his wife's arms and breathed his last breath on my grandmother's cheek. We should all be so lucky to spend our final days engulfed by the love of a good woman.

The history books are filled with men paying the ultimate tribute for a woman's love. Edward VIII gave up the throne of England. The Trojan War was fought over Helen of Troy, the face that launched a thousand ships. Marc Anthony paid the ultimate price for his love of Cleopatra. The ancients had it right. Women should be cherished as the precious jewels they are.

The hand of a woman is a man's greatest gift. In this day and age of fifty percent divorce rates, Hollywood marriages measured by stop watches, and a perceived increasing willingness by men to take women for granted, trends must be stopped. We need to take marriage more seriously. We need to respect women. We need to treat them as equals and not like trophies or brood mares the way too many men do.

If indeed it is true that woman was created from a part of man, they got the best part of us. It's time we men stand up, salute, and pay tribute to the opposite sex. After all, they deserve it.