Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. — Proverbs 31:23

OK… so whoever scheduled Shrove Tuesday/Ash Wednesday/Valentine’s Day together needs to be beaten soundly. I’m losing time at night to ponder and write. But enough of my whining!

The city gate was the place where the judges sat and handled disputes. Only the wisest men held this place of honor (at least I remember that much from reading commentaries on Amos 5 in seminary) so if the virtuous woman’s husband was respected there, it meant that either he was exceedingly wise or the virtues of his wife shone back on him and added to his prestige. My vote is for the latter one.

This is an interesting verse for me as a pastor’s wife because everything I say/do/write reflects back on my husband Jon, whether I like it or not. This has led to elderly (and not so elderly) parishioners lecturing me on how I should dress, mingle, pursue employment, etc. In one case, I was always in the wrong place — if I was in the kitchen, I was being anti-social and if I was out pouring coffee for people, I was neglecting my kitchen duties. I was criticized for wearing clothes that were too dark — apparently, a jewel colored shirt with a black skirt or pants and a black cardigan was too somber and I should wear pastels. (Have I mentioned how hideous I look in pastels? So *NOT* my coloring.) I smiled politely and nodded, realizing that these people paid Jon’s salary and irritating them would be a bad move.

When Daniel was born, it was like I finally gained a backbone as I went into Mama Grizzly mode the second someone criticized decisions I made about him like choosing not to breastfeed (I was too sick and needed the sleep), actually going home every night (I trusted the NICU staff with him and he didn’t need me at that stage as much as he needs me now during hospitalizations), and choosing to vaccinate. I didn’t quite turn aggressive but I got quite a bit more assertive about my right to wear what I wanted to wear to church, saying “no” to activities because of Daniel, and not caring what anyone outside of my doctor had to say about him. I think these times were when I probably made Jon “respectable at the city gate” because I was authentically myself and I showed through how I handled Daniel’s birth and subsequent NICU stay that I was a woman of valor and one who was indispensable to her husband.