Being the Proverbs 31 Woman Breaks Nails

Yep, you read that right.

I was cleaning the house last night, and got to thinking about the commonalities between myself and my friends and the Proverbs 31 woman. (The scripture I'm referring to is Proverbs 31:10-31.)

She is smart and resourceful and ever working to better her family. She toils from before sunup to way after sundown. The entire community respects and loves her. She touches everyone she meets.

How many women do I know like this? Quite a few, actually. Maybe because I'm blessed with a fruitful church, and have met many women who follow this example, even if they don't know they're doing it.

Take a look at this:

28 Her children arise and call her blessed;

her husband also, and he praises her:

What I find amusing is that nowhere in this passage of a perfect woman does it say "and her husband and children help her with the housework." Believe me, I searched that passage thoroughly.

What a ripoff!!! I mean, honestly, I was looking for some justification to get my family in line to help me clean the house. We have guests coming tonight, and I want it to look decent. Not perfect, 'cause no one would believe that, but a house that doesn't cause a guest to think... ewww... would be a start.

Most of the women I know clean their homes with little to no help from husband or family, and just grin and bear it. Most of the women I know are actively involved in the church, and most of them have jobs in or outside the home that we spend a great deal of time working on. Most of them either homeschool or are otherwise intensely involved in their children's educations. Most of the women I know bend over backward to make their husbands happy and content.

So I'm sitting here scrubbing a chair, thinking about how the perfect woman works her whole body to the bone sacrificially in the name of service to others, meditating on the perfectness of myself and the women I know, (*smiles*) and...

Crack!

Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

My nail on my middle finger of my right hand breaks. In half. Horizontally across the middle. I repeat:

Owwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

No fixing this one. It still hurts. Especially since I'm right-handed. I feel like a gimp. I can't do anything without it somehow needing to be used. God forbid I ever broke that finger, I'd be up a creek.

And because of the busy season, Saturday morning's the first time I'll get to have it fixed. I've got to survive with a throbbing finger until then, and I know it'll sting more than a little when they fix it (having broken nails before).

Such is life, eh?