Soft Hands: What My Dad Taught Me About Being a Woman

Dear sisters,

Last week in my blog post I talked about “falling down” and “falling in love” and this got me thinking about both of those experiences in my own life. 

(If you missed out on last week’s blog post you can check it out here)

In my reflection on these two experiences I began to think about my dad. Not only is he the first man I have fallen in love with, he is also the man that has been there every time that I “fall down.” When this happens he has picked me up; told me that I am beautiful, lovable, and smart; and told me that he is there to help me get where I need to go. 

He has taken it as his responsibility to teach me the skills that I need to know to get me from where I am now to where I want to be in the future. I have fond memories of my dad teaching me how to read, how to ride a bike, and how to drive (including parallel-parking a long-bed pickup truck!). 

But one of the memories that is very clearly etched in my mind is when my father taught me how to catch a ball. While this may seem like one of the most “unfeminine” things my father has taught me how to do (with maybe the exception of skeet shooting) it is the thing that has taught me the most about who I am as a woman. Why? Because it has taught me the importance of having “soft hands.”

If you play a sport that requires you to catch a ball, you have probably heard this phrase before, but for the sake of everyone else, I’ll give a short explanation. 

When someone throws you a ball it’s really important that you don’t try to “jab” at the ball mid-flight. You have to wait for the ball to come to you. Then once you have it, you must bring the ball into yourself. This is what is meant by having soft hands.

So what does catching a ball with soft hands have to do with femininity? Everything. 

Women's Receptivity

 One of our characteristics as women is our natural receptivity. There’s a certain “space” within us set aside to be open to and to receive the love of another. God reveals this truth to us in our sexuality because women are naturally receptive to the love and life given them by their husband in the marital embrace. Women are also more naturally open to and receptive of the love of God (that’s why it seems like there are always more women at church than men!) 

Women’s receptivity is so powerful that God used it at the most pivotal moment in time: Jesus’ Incarnation in Mary’s womb. It was Mary’s receptivity and openness to God’s love that literally brought Jesus into the world.

Satan’s Attack on Women’s Receptivity

This is why it is so important for Satan that he attack women’s receptivity. He knows what happens when women are receptive to the love of God. Jesus enters the world, and that is the last thing he wants. 

Satan uses modern culture to twist women’s understanding of their receptivity, and because he is the Prince of Lies, he tells us lies about our receptivity. Perhaps the biggest and most dangerous lie that Satan tells us about our receptivity is that it is passive and weak.

Modernity puts forth the notion of the damsel in distress just sitting around and waiting for the prince to come save her. The “damsel in distress” notion is what the culture wants you to think of when you hear that the Church says women are receptive because the culture wants you to think that receptivity is passive and weak and that the Church wants women to be passive and weak. Not surprisingly, this “passive and weak receptivity” is often rejected by women because it is not an attractive option.

The culture offers us only one alternative to this passive and weak receptivity: the complete rejection of our receptivity in favor of an aggressive activity. As Fr. Dominic Foster once said, the culture tells women that they must either “seduce” or “produce”. These are very “active” notions that prey on our sense of pride.

Going back to our analogy of catching a ball, the equivalent of “seducing” or “producing” would be beyond just “jabbing” at the ball in the air; it would actually be more like charging the person who was throwing the ball at you. If catching the ball (which represents love) is what we are trying to accomplish, tackling the person trying to throw that ball to you seems a bit counter-intuitive. 

Are There Only Two Options?

Must we go along with the culture and accept that there are only two possibilities: passive receptivity or aggressive activity? 

It is clear that the Church doesn’t want women to participate in an aggressive activity when it comes to “catching” love from others. But does that mean that the Church expects women to be passive and weak?

Let me answer this question by once again returning to our analogy of catching the ball. If someone was trying to catch a ball but they stood absolutely still and didn’t move at all (because that’s what passivity is), how successful do you think they would be? I’m willing to bet that 10 times out of 10 they are not going to catch that ball. 

What does this mean? Put simply, it means that there’s no such thing as a passive receptivity. Receptivity, by its very nature, cannot be passive.

Active Receptivity = “Soft Hands”

It stands to reason that if receptivity cannot truly be passive then it must, by its very nature, be active. Satan’s lie that our receptivity is a passive thing turns out to be just that: a lie.

So what does it look like to be “actively receptive”? Perhaps we should look again at the woman whose receptivity worked to actively revolutionize the world.

In his encyclical letter, Redemptoris Mater (Mother of the Redeemer), St. Pope John Paul II began his introduction by speaking of Mary’s receptivity to the Lord in her Fiat. He then says in the very next paragraph that, “I wish to begin my reflection on the role of Mary in the mystery of Christ and on her active and exemplary presence in the life of the Church” (emphasis added).

This wise saint begins his encyclical on Mary by immediately mentioning that her receptivity was active and that this is an example that all of the Church (especially women!) should follow.

Now, I’m not saying my dad is as theologically savvy as St. Pope John Paul II, but I am saying that he taught me this reality of active receptivity long before I could even spell “Redemptoris Mater” because he taught me what it means to have soft hands.

Having soft hands means that you hold your hands out wide and expectantly wait for someone to give you the gift of their love. It means that you keep your eyes firmly fixed on the Love being thrown to you, because this Love is Jesus Himself. It means watching the arch that this Love makes through the air and moving your body so that you are in the best possible position to receive that Love. And it means bringing that love into your heart and into the very center of your being as soon as you have a grasp on it. If we do all of these things, we are being truly active receivers.

In teaching me how to have soft hands, my father taught me not just what it means to be a woman; he taught me what it means to be a woman loved by God.

In The Fire of His Love,

Alyssa

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Alyssa is a sophomore studying Humanities and Catholic Culture, Theology, and Philosophy. She is a native of Texas where she lives with her family in a blue-roofed house on top of a hill. She is passionate about the Truth of the Lord's Incarnation and loves spending time discovering and discussing ways in which others have incarnated the Gospel in film, history, literature, politics, and art. Her favorite saints are St. Teresa of Avila and St. Catherine of Siena because they both personify St. John Paul II's "feminine genius" in her mind.