Sisters

I wasn't prepared for the show the audience puts on.  I had forgotten that people use public events as an opportunity to put on their finery and to watch and be watched.  To judge and be judged.  The girls wore skinny jeans or daisy dukes and a tank top, or a dress.  They wore high heels or flip-flops or cute little slippers.  I looked at their faces as they paraded by, confidently and strutting, or meekly and mincing, and I saw that every one had a beautiful face.  Some more beautiful than others, but all possessed of some delicacy, some turn of feature, that made them a pleasure to look at.  And I wondered, as I often do, how it is that they have overlooked their beautiful faces, and think it necessary to uncover their bodies.  One girl walked by and I stared at her clean and pretty face, ignoring her immodesty, and as she passed, she gave me the up and down that said I was beneath her and no competition.  I had forgotten to compete.  I had forgotten that girls measure each other constantly, gauging their beauty against each other, gauging their value by how skinny they are, or how perfect their smile.  I had forgotten that it is an effort to join together as sisters and to put aside our rivalries, even when the contest is won, and we wear a man at our side.

I want more than this.  I know that we are better than this.  I have seen women engaged in powerful, if small, acts of service and I know that there is a way of being women together that is beyond the catty and spiteful and into the divine.  Let us be sisters together, and no more rivals and enemies.  Let us encourage each other, and lift each other up.  Let us not judge each other, by whatever standard.  I am reminded of the hymn "in the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see, who am I to judge another, Lord, I would follow thee".  We can be powerful in doing good together, let us not be weak in tearing each other down.