Weak

In my grandmother's library, there was a book of Bible stories that I loved to read. The stories were short, making it easy for my 9-year-old self to understand. But what I liked the most about the book were the illustrations. 


There was one in particular that I remember, a picture that depicted the story of Samson and Delilah. In this drawing, Delilah was a knockout. Shiny ebony locks that cascaded down her shoulders, pouty red lips, and kohl rimmed eyelids.  She wore a dreamy, almost seductive expression as she looked at Samson, who seemed to be completely charmed by this woman.


I was talking to my life coach this week, and she introduced a thought to me that never crossed my mind. 


She heard a pastor once say that,  

"Whoever said that Delilah was beautiful? Her appearance isn't spoken of anywhere in the story. Her most notable feature is her ability to extract the secret of Samson's strength.  And how was she able to do it? She provided a place of solace and comfort, a place for him to lay his head." 

What a concept. 

Samson, after a day of leading Israel and fighting their enemies, recovers and rests in Delilah's arms and lap. She gently massages his scalp and smooths his curls around her index finger while cooing soft words of comfort and peace.  

I had always envisioned Delilah as this ridiculously gorgeous femme fatale, a Halle Berry twin with a body so curvaceous that all she had to do was whisper a request, and it would be done in 3 seconds flat. 

But the idea, not that she might have been an average looking gal, but that it was her disposition, her aura, and her personality that was so soothing that it made the strongest man in the world give up his might....

There is a lesson I can take from that (minus Delilah's terrible betrayal). 


I want to be a place where my love can rest easy...


be secure....


breathe deeply....


and not have his trust interrupted.


A place where he can become weak and know his power is safe with me.