enough. I protested, “There is no way I’m more
aggressive than John!”
John laughed and nodded knowingly as
everyone in the line turned my way. It was then
I realized that even in the dead of a Colorado
winter, my turtleneck sweater was a poor
wardrobe choice for this type of meeting. I
pulled on it. I was not just hot flashing, I was
flash blushing.
The facilitator assured me there’d been
no mistake. Numbers don’t lie. I was the
uncontested winner of the most-intense/ mostaggressive
spot, which immediately felt like a
supreme loss.
“There is a desperate need for
women who are more concerned
with their god-daughters’
destiny than their history.”
When it was time to move on to the next result.
I bolted out of my place in line, but I was too
quick in breaking rank. I was told to stay where
I’d been. I watched in shame as once again the
entire line formed to the left of me. This time
John was not placed next to me but at the
opposite end of whatever spectrum this line
was about to reveal.
The facilitator spoke. “This lineup represents
empathy and nurture. These actions are
considered the opposite of aggression—and
Lisa has scored the highest in this one as well.”
He shook his head. “I honestly have never seen
this before.”
He turned toward me, seeking an explanation.
My heart beat faster, but this time it was not in
shame; it was in hope. I answered back, “I fight
for.”
Though the facilitator might not have seen
this result before, I believe God has. He has
a name for women who mix intense passion
with empathy and nurture; they are called
godmothers. And in case you are wondering
if this combination is biblical, read how God
describes himself in Hosea 13:8:
Like a bear robbed of her cubs,
I will attack them and rip them open. (NIV)
If this description of a mama bear doesn’t
capture an image of feminine fierce protection
of the young, I don’t know what does. It is godly
for mothers to fight for their children. Now let’s
move on to this concept of a godmother.
What comes to mind when you think of a
godmother?
A fairy godmother? (Sadly, they are not a real
thing.)
A mafia godmother? (Hopefully not a real
thing.)
Or maybe you thought of a spiritual godmother—
which desperately needs to become a very real
thing.
Though I love to tease about it because I am
half Sicilian, the godmothers I am talking
about are in no way tied to the mafia. Nor can
they change pumpkins into carriages or mice
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