(I wish I were that thin!)
After a particularly difficult morning Emily asked me, "Mommy, is it hard being a mommy?" (Maybe the tear in my eye was a clue?) I said, "Yes, sometimes it is hard. But there's nothing else I'd rather be," and I looked her in the eye and smiled. After a moment she said, "I'm glad to know that." She got out of her chair to give me a hug.
I'm glad God is a man. Male. Whatever. I can run to him for help and comfort. He is strong. He is bigger than the problem that is bullying me. He doesn't let me ruin myself. He doesn't validate my gripes, but shows me what's true and good. I can get up and walk away knowing that he understands. He hears me and helps me.
If God were female, praying would more likely be a girls' mutual gripe session, don't you think? Talking to "her" wouldn't help me at all. I would probably get off my knees feeling justified in my gripes, victimized, and righteously indignant. ?? Just an idea.
Yep, I'm glad God is male.