by Beth Moore
On the other hand, our vision of men could be even more impaired by disdain. Maybe you’ve sustained considerable injury from them along the way. Life can set us up for some pretty devastating disappointments, especially those of us who were told in an unending stream of bedtime stories, books, and movies that someday our prince would come. For some of us, men were involved in our hardest blows and deepest heartbreaks. Or maybe it was just one man. Maybe then we shoved him up on a high hill as the icon of his entire gender and systematically sought out like individuals to confirm our suspicions. Once we compiled enough evidence to convict the lot, perhaps we bunched them all together until we could no longer see the forest for the trees.
I see men like trees, walking.
Big, monstrous, ugly, gnarly trees. Strangely, women who have been seriously injured by men don’t always respond by loathing them or avoiding them. Perhaps more often they become emotionally enslaved to them. Remember, we don’t have to love something for it to become a god to us. All we have to do is devote our most valuable mental attentions to it. In its most basic essence, worship is simple focus. Voluntary preoccupation. People bow under the weight of anger and unforgiveness just as prostrate as they bow under the weight of adoration. The same hurts that make some women despise or disrespect men make other women idolize, crave, and obsess over men. Countless women keep searching for a do-over in the deferring hope that something will turn out differently this time. And sometimes it does.
It happened to me with Jesus. Then it happened by the power and plan of Jesus through one man after another who didn’t prove to be any more perfect than I was—but who proved to be honorable. Authentic. Worthy of respect. And over time, a touch of healing came to my heart. It was real, all right. But it was only partial. You see, I still placed a little too much of my personal value and status of wholeness into the hands of a few men: my dad, my husband, and probably even my two brothers. Somewhere deep inside, I still believed that I was at their mercy—but none of them could handle that kind of pressure. As long as I saw men as anything above or below what God created them to be, my vision might have improved, but I was not yet restored.
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.
Make no mistake. Christ can use all manner of circumstances, unmet expectations, and disappointments to make us look up. Oh, that we would not fight the touch of that healing hand on our chins, urging us to lift our faces to the sky. We are bereft of clear vision toward man—or woman—until we look up steadfastly at our wise and one and only Savior.
And [she] was restored and saw everyone clearly.
Well, maybe I’m not completely restored, but the Lord and I have gone a mighty long way in the process. And maybe I don’t see everyone clearly, but I can tell you that my vision is clearer by a long shot than ever before. Men mostly look like men to me these days. No longer like trees, walking. I don’t need to minimize them, feminize them, or idolize them anymore. On a good day when my head is on straight, I can just walk next to them, respect them, and intercede for them as those who need God as desperately as I do.
When you’ve stared at the face of Christ long enough through the lens of Scripture, you will begin to look around you and see men clearly. No longer like trees, walking. No longer like gods or devils. Just fellow sojourners with God-given dignity—and feet of clay.
Chapter 11
Eating from the Wrong Tree
Never let anybody tell you that sustainable victory in this flesh-and-blood existence is not possible. A secure woman exists inside of every one of us, and she’s begging to come out. In this next section, we’re going to learn practical ways to bring her to the surface. We want her to stick her soles in our sweet shoes and make herself comfortable in our skin.
Depending on how much you’ve tied your insecurities to men, some of you may have taken a decisive step forward in the last chapter by recognizing that your vision is badly distorted. You may have realized that if you look up at Jesus before you look out at men, He will joyfully restore your sight. The eyes of a healthy feminine soul see men as men—inestimably valuable yet very fallible, just like their counterparts. They are not devils to us. They are not gods to us.
In this chapter, we’re going to flip those statements in order to gain a new perspective, one that has equal capacity to curtail our insecurity:
They are not devils to us, and we’ve got to stop playing the devil with them. They are not gods to us, and we’ve got to stop playing God with them.
At first I was sorely tempted to skip over the part about playing the devil and go straight to our propensity to play God, but I know better and surely have a better memory than that. I can remember as far back as my teenage years the surge of power that came from messing with a guy’s mind. To give you a snapshot of the selfishness involved, I’ll put myself out there and make a confession that does not come without shame: much of the time I didn’t even want the guy. I just liked to see if he was interested in me. Once I got my answer, the game was over. Just knowing I could have him if I wanted him was enough. If, on the other hand, I realized that I couldn’t have him, the stakes went up as my self-image spiraled down.
That’s not only the mark of a messed-up woman, it’s also the mark of an insecure woman. And if she doesn’t bother to change, she becomes the devil with a blue dress on. Before somebody trips over her doctrinal skirt, let’s be clear that I’m speaking metaphorically here. Women who have received Christ are sealed by God, inhabited by the Holy Spirit, and can’t be possessed by demons. But trust me when I tell you that we can still run their errands.
So how does a woman play the devil with a man? She tries to shake him from his convictions. Perhaps you’ve been so burned by guys that you are cynical; if so, you could probably use the reminder that plenty of men with strong convictions and deep commitments do exist. Unfortunately, you can also find a host of women who get a kick out of testing those men. I hate to have to tattle on my own gender, but the truth is, some women adore nothing more than unsteadying a steady man. It’s that whole Samson and Delilah thing. Left to our basest nature, women love the power of making a strong man weak. If he seems happily married, some want to see if he can be enticed away from his wife. If he seems aloof, some want to see if they can make him reach for the proverbial carrot. And if he’s a pastor, some would love to give him a sermon illustration he’ll never forget.
There’s something about a man of conviction—whether he belongs to us or not—that makes the most dangerous kind of unhealthy women want to break him. It’s a sad admission that sometimes women simply aren’t satisfied unless they think a man would choose them over God.
Of course, it’s the devil who is ultimately scheming to destroy godly men, but he’s particularly adept at enlisting female puppets to play his part. A woman may not necessarily be looking for an affair, but whether she realizes it or not, she’s definitely looking for a little salve for her excruciating insecurity. Just looking for a little company. Trying to have a little fun. Playing the harmless flirt. But that’s when the gates of hell start quaking. Don’t kid yourself into thinking that any woman is so secure that she won’t go after somebody else’s man to boost her ailing ego.
After all, how would she know she’s still got it unless she gets him? Ironically, the pursuit is often as much about the woman she’s trying to rob as it is about the man. It’s her reckless way of proving that she measures up to the woman who currently has him. Perhaps her worst fear is that she doesn’t—and she’s trying to prove herself wrong at everybody else’s expense.
Sometimes the guy stands firm. Sometimes he sees through it and is turned off by it. Other times he tumbles into a full-fledged affair or, perhaps even scarier, a one-time encounter that ends up becoming a “fatal attraction.” The second the dust settles, the man realizes he has made the worst mistake of his life and he’s now tangled up wit
h somebody who is not going to go away quietly. He wanted a moment. She wanted a man. And she’s taking no prisoners. Whether he fell (or jumped) into the affair, a guy can end up losing a wife and family he genuinely adored. Don’t misunderstand my sympathies. Of course, he’s guilty too, but if we pitch aside the insidious power of seduction, we’re missing the magnitude of what has taken place.
This scenario can as easily happen in reverse. Neither sex holds the patent on this one. Seducers and seductresses alike operate out of warped souls, insatiable selfishness, and spiritual brokenness, and they can show up anywhere normal life takes place. Even church. Some people cannot keep destruction to themselves. They spew it everywhere they go.
The last thing we want to do is become paranoid and suspicious, but we could stand to wise up and develop some discernment. Far more important, however, we’d better make dead sure we’re not the ones playing the devil. Insecure people have a head start at doing foolish things in order to feel better about themselves. Because I had the makings of a woman who could wreak havoc, maybe I’m on to her more quickly than someone who has the luxury of being naive. When Keith occasionally accompanies me to a women’s event, many of the attendees are so intrigued by their teacher’s handsome husband that they flock to him like hummingbirds to a red feeder. I’m amused and blessed by the attention he receives because I’m proud of him and I know it’s innocent. He’s also right there in the open air where things don’t get out of hand. Knowing the darker side of my gender, however, I’ve also had to warn him not to let someone corner him alone or ask for his private counsel. (They’re liable to get my private counsel instead, and it won’t be pretty.) I love women and have devoted my life to serving God through them, but I’m not nuts enough to trust a woman who can’t trust herself. My man’s not going to be her trophy if I can help it.
Capitalizing on her sensuality isn’t the only way a woman can play the devil with a man and try to shake him from his convictions. It’s just the most famous one. The devil wants to challenge men’s convictions in any number of areas ranging from work ethics to child rearing to what they do for amusement. If those convictions seem bizarre, out of kilter, or plainly unbiblical, I’m not suggesting a wife or a girlfriend shouldn’t question them. They should. But when a woman sweet-talks or badgers a man out of what he holds as a genuine, God-given conviction simply because she finds it inconvenient, she is playing the devil.
By the time a woman gets a hold of a man and makes him less principled than he was when she found him, she’s the one who probably could use a dose of conviction. I’ve seen it with my own eyes a number of times. I’ll think something like, Girlfriend, I know a hundred women who would beg, borrow, or steal to have a man like yours. Why do you constantly tear him down or make fun of him? And when you’ve accomplished what you were after, will you be happy with what you have left? Nothing brings out the rebellion in a woman like a man who’s trying to be righteous. And vice versa.
Okay, so enough of that. Now you know why I was tempted to skip that part. Maybe you would never dream of playing the devil to a man, and you don’t hang out with those who do. On the other hand, maybe the idea of playing God to a man has a decidedly greater appeal to you, just like it does to me. Now we’re talking. Women who struggle with insecurity are particularly taken with two divine attributes: omnipotence and omniscience.
Let’s give omnipotence a shot first. The word means all (omni) powerful (potent). Needless to say, although humans can’t attain total power, knowing that fact hasn’t kept us from trying. The most we can successfully achieve is excessive control. Right about now you may be inclined to picture someone you know who is unbearably controlling and battles insecurity. People who are chronically insecure often have an overwhelming tendency to become control freaks. Upon serious consideration, that inclination makes perfect sense. We feel most secure when our environment is in control, and since no one is able to control it to our satisfaction, we decide we have to do it ourselves. If someone would do it and do it right, we wouldn’t have to take over, so it’s not really our fault, we reason. It’s our responsibility.
At first glance, you may think this shoe doesn’t really fit because you don’t have a desire to control everyone around you. I’m the same way. There are just those few individuals who bring it out in me. Have you ever wondered, Why them? I had never connected the dots until preparing for this book, but here’s what I discovered: an insecure person’s greatest need for control is directed toward those who have the most potential to either threaten her security or strengthen it. That is why women choose boyfriends or husbands as the primary candidates for control. These men have the greatest capacity to affect our sense of personal well-being and security, and they pose the biggest threat. Children also have the power to rock a woman’s world, so the more insecure a mother is, the more she fights to control her children. By the time a controlling mother’s strong-willed child reaches adolescence, it’s a family free-for-all. Let’s take care not to confuse proper authority and much-needed discipline with excessive control. The former teaches the child to choose certain paths and behave in certain ways. The latter tries to make the child.
Controlling relationships go well beyond the front door of our homes, flowing into friendships and workplaces. You can pinpoint your own natural targets by tracing the insecurity tie. Begin by searching for the spots where you either derive the most security or perceive that it’s most threatened. That’s where you’ll be most prone to wield excessive control. If you’re like me, that’s also where you most often volunteer to fill in for God.
Sometimes our answers may be wrong, but our hearts are right. I believe our greatest challenge as women is to avoid trying to control someone toward what we’re genuinely convinced is a better life. The more insecure we are, the more tempting it is because something is in it for us, too. In other words, if my loved one would _________________, then I’d be _________________________. The more blanks you can fill in, the more conditional your security and the more it is associated with flesh and blood. The If he–then I (If she–then I) thought process isn’t hard to comprehend because by nature, human beings are egocentric. It’s natural to have thoughts like this sometimes. But if we let it convince us instead of tempt us, we’re liable to develop a God complex. It can start with something as healthy as accountability, but before we know it, we’ve turned into sheriffs who arrest rather than invest in our loved ones. We hold them up and put them in emotional jail, where everybody gets punished.
There has never been a soul on earth I wanted to control more than Keith Moore. He is my beautiful and unpredictable loose cannon. God has used him more powerfully in my life than anyone on the planet, precisely because he refuses to be managed. If he feels strong-armed into doing something, he suddenly develops a voracious appetite to do the exact opposite. The good side of it is that I can rest assured that Keith has loved me and spent his entire adult life with me because he wanted to and not because anybody told him to. He wouldn’t mind me telling you that he has a rebellious root so deep that to pull it up could cause a tremor all over the state of Texas. I’ve nearly thrown my back out trying.
Honestly, I just wanted him to be happy, and he seemed to have such unnecessary ups and downs. (Does that sound familiar?) I knew what worked for me, and I wanted it to work for him. (Also sound familiar?) The way I saw it, the man had so much potential if he would just do things God’s way. But since he wasn’t really listening to God, maybe my way was close enough. (Is this getting on your nerves like it’s getting on mine?) If he would just have a regular prayer time or memorize a few Scriptures or listen to Christian music or be more jovial or more compliant or less free with his opinions but more talkative about his feelings or more selective about what he watched and more careful about what he ate, he’d be so much happier. Clearly, I needed to take control of the situation and try to shove Keith to his happy place.
I bought men’s devotional and inspirational books, but he used them
for coasters for his Route 44 cherry limeades from Sonic. I got him so many great CDs that you can hardly get the glove compartment open in his car to put one in his player. I got audiobooks by the actual authors, and he has taken such good care of them that they’re still in the cellophane. I purchased enough vitamins and supplements to keep a whole football team healthy, but the bottles still have the safety seals on them. When he complained that he was looking older, I bought him a skin regimen complete with toner and lip balm. At least I know it’s there in the bathroom drawer when I run out of my own.
Goodness knows I tried not to nag. I hate people who nag. I tried pep talks that would have won a professional team a national championship. Still nothing. I tried rationale after rationale to no avail. Only when all else failed did I turn ugly. Is it my fault that all else kept failing? Sometimes I resorted to record keeping. I would try to keep score on how long it had been since he had been to church and how many times that day he had said that word or how much time had lapsed since he had opened a bill. No effect whatsoever. In fact, sometimes he just laughed and asked me if I knew how cute I was. Cute? Are you kidding me? You think I’m trying to be cute?
I’m much better about it now than I used to be. Now I vacillate somewhere between giving up altogether and giving it one more tiny little try. I live in neither place, but this much has become remarkably clear: we cannot control people. Goodness knows I wish we could, but we can’t. It doesn’t work. It will never work. And here’s the worst part: the insecurity that drove the desire in the first place only deepens with each failure.
