Tim and I attended our first small group meeting through our church last night. It's an ingenious design whereby church-goers are set to socializing in a home environment for the purpose of getting to know one another. It's a good way to connect with others whom we might not otherwise talk to on a Sunday morning.
Since it was the first meeting of this little group, we were given an assignment as an ice-breaker. The men went into the kitchen while the women talked in the living room.
We had questions to ask of one another, such as, "What is the greatest challenge you are currently facing?" and "What has been your greatest joy/sorrow over this past year?"
Women, in this situation, get straight to the point. We dive into an instant intimacy in which we share the deep places of our hearts in a moment. We were teary and compassionate, connecting and sharing, really learning about the vital issues within the hearts of one another.
Men do not do this.
I don't know exactly what the men did, as they certainly seemed to be talking and participating in the given exercise. They were not sharing the earth-shattering realities of their lives, though. It was more of a back-slapping, hand-shaking, how-do-you-do.
Tim and I were discussing this phenomena in the car on the way home, and I was finding the topic fascinating. As a woman, you know I was eager to delve into the deep recesses of my husband's thoughts to hear all about his deeply personal conversations with the men.
I asked Tim what he had shared with the other men as his greatest challenge, his sorrow, his joy....But, no. The men didn't talk like that. It sounds like their greatest issues had a lot to do with careers and fantasy football. They really are Neanderthals, after all.
There must be a gazillion books on the market detailing the differences between men and women, but for all that available information, I am always astounded when I get a glimpse into a man's head.
It's a wonder to me that the genders can co-exist with this vast dearth of commonality.
Don't get me wrong, I adore my man. I simply can not fathom the basics of how God wired his brain to work. Nor he mine, I suppose. Perhaps that mystery is a good thing.
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