I grew up in a family of six children. I had three brothers and two sisters. We loved each other deeply, and like most siblings, we sometimes fought like rabid dogs. Mom and Dad did their best to establish the rules that would govern a busy household and rules that were meant to establish some level of civility for the family as well as our eventual departure for the real world.
But there was one rule that stood above all of the others. The boys were not allowed to hit the girls! Hitting one of my sisters was tantamount to asking for the death penalty. Mom and Dad said it and we knew Mom and Dad meant it.
Now why was that? Were my sisters less human than the boys? Well, yes but that had nothing to do with the rule. (A little levity here.) Were my sisters not as smart, did they have less wisdom, were they lower on the totem pole of life? Not in our house. Instead, they were put on a pedestal when it came to physical protection. Mom and Dad knew what was obvious to any of us who didn’t have our head up our donkey: My Dad could beat up anybody’s mom.
This truth doesn’t need to come from the Bible but it’s found there too. 1 Peter 3:7 Likewise, ye husbands, dwell with them according to knowledge, giving honour unto the wife, as unto the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life;
Num 26:1-4 “Take a census of the whole Israelite community by families–all those twenty years old or more who are able to serve in the army of Israel.” So on the plains of Moab by the Jordan across from Jericho, Moses and Eleazar the priest spoke with them and said, “Take a census of the men twenty years old or more, as the LORD commanded Moses.”
Maybe God, in His Omniscience, knew something that some of our leaders apparently don’t. It is still obvious to those of us that don’t have a liberal agenda blinding our thought pattern. Women are physically weaker than men. It’s genetic, it’s by God’s design, and not sacrificing our beautiful young women on the field of battle should be upheld in our nation as we have in the past 237 years of our country’s existence.
Or maybe I should send my mom over.