I’m a bibliophile. Don’t get nervous. A bibliophile is a big word for, bookworm. That’s right—I’m a nerd. Having read twenty-thirty books a year for the past twenty years I’ve earned the title.
Once in awhile I come across a word I’ve never heard before, so I do what any good nerd word do—I look it up. In recent days I’ve heard the word misogynist thrown around. It means “One who hates or mistrusts women.”
Ah, the woman hater.
This disturbing word got me thinking. Who would hate women in general? I love my mom, wife, stepmother, mother-in-law, sister, stepsisters, and on and on. As I watched “misogynist” thrown flippantly around liked a dodge ball at recess I noticed something more disturbing. Most of the accusers were women!
Why were the men virtually anonymous in this discussion? Why were they silent? Why had they, including myself, never heard of the word? Then I remembered a preacher who once said, “If you preach to your congregation on a certain topic over and over, it’s probably your problem.”
So I looked up another word—misandrist—“One who hates men”.
Women, please be honest. Search the deep recesses of your heart. Why would a human accuse another of something without knowing his or her story? Where did you draw this assumption—a personal relationship, the media, or hearsay? Better yet, what gives us the right to be judge, jury, and executioner? Are we really that archaic?
Before you look out the window how about looking in the mirror and ask yourself these tough questions. Who hurt you? Why are you so sensitive about men? Have you dealt with the father who was absent in your life, the boy who broke your heart, or the older relative who violated you? Are you projecting your pain upon unsuspecting and innocent men?
Are you a man-hater?
I’ve given my life to transform the lives of men—and those they love. That includes you! Please be willing to receive the love from a man, not a male, but a man. Open your hurt. Open your heart. Trust again. The one losing from your misandry is you. Our world needs the best version of you and not some bitter counterfeit.
I’m not a counselor, but I know a great one. He loves you so much. He thinks you’re beautiful. He’ll never hurt, leave, or disappoint you. He is your Father, your Designer. He’s your biggest fan.
Once in awhile I come across a word I’ve never heard before, so I do what any good nerd word do—I look it up. In recent days I’ve heard the word misogynist thrown around. It means “One who hates or mistrusts women.”
Ah, the woman hater.
This disturbing word got me thinking. Who would hate women in general? I love my mom, wife, stepmother, mother-in-law, sister, stepsisters, and on and on. As I watched “misogynist” thrown flippantly around liked a dodge ball at recess I noticed something more disturbing. Most of the accusers were women!
Why were the men virtually anonymous in this discussion? Why were they silent? Why had they, including myself, never heard of the word? Then I remembered a preacher who once said, “If you preach to your congregation on a certain topic over and over, it’s probably your problem.”
So I looked up another word—misandrist—“One who hates men”.
Women, please be honest. Search the deep recesses of your heart. Why would a human accuse another of something without knowing his or her story? Where did you draw this assumption—a personal relationship, the media, or hearsay? Better yet, what gives us the right to be judge, jury, and executioner? Are we really that archaic?
Before you look out the window how about looking in the mirror and ask yourself these tough questions. Who hurt you? Why are you so sensitive about men? Have you dealt with the father who was absent in your life, the boy who broke your heart, or the older relative who violated you? Are you projecting your pain upon unsuspecting and innocent men?
Are you a man-hater?
I’ve given my life to transform the lives of men—and those they love. That includes you! Please be willing to receive the love from a man, not a male, but a man. Open your hurt. Open your heart. Trust again. The one losing from your misandry is you. Our world needs the best version of you and not some bitter counterfeit.
I’m not a counselor, but I know a great one. He loves you so much. He thinks you’re beautiful. He’ll never hurt, leave, or disappoint you. He is your Father, your Designer. He’s your biggest fan.
