Sanctuary

One of the many influences on how I see my place in this world is this:

Each man will be like a shelter from the wind
and a refuge from the storm,
like streams of water in the desert
and the shadow of a great rock in a thirsty land.

It is found in the book of the prophet Isaiah, and it is a chastising reminder of how men ought to be. The context is that of the Sinai desert - a wide wilderness of sand and salt in the northeast of the Sinai peninsula. The wind lashes out across the flat land, stinging unprotected flesh; when it howls, whole caravans may be swallowed up. By day, the sun is blazing hot; by night, it is cold and dry. Without a shelter, without a refuge, without water or shade, the traveller perishes.

The least a man can do is to be a sanctuary. Even in the awkwardness of silence or in the weakness of disability, a man can shield others from wrath and pain. We were made to take the big hits, so that others might continue doing good. For if women are the more capable and the more useful at the business of daily life, should we not be their cannon-fodder and their defence so that they can do the things we cannot do?

What a thought. If one is not great at being a shelter and a refuge, one must at least be a source of provision and providence. Tonight I cooked, and I was happy. I washed and scrubbed and dried, and I was content. And I wish I could do more.