There was no budding romance for me that evening. Nor was I in any danger from which I needed protection. But nevertheless, that same “India thing” transpired. That evening, I found myself exhaling. Somehow in their planning, serving, risking, and engaging, that motley crew of men helped my omni-competence find a temporary shelf. It wasn’t a starry or dreamy night, but I left with the gift of rest, mysteriously provided by the presence of this hodgepodge of brothers.

Could I have lived without that Valentine’s dinner? Yes. Honestly, I’ve lived through a lot of single Valentine’s Day dinners and have had both lonely and laughter-ridden times with friends. But nevertheless, those men’s offering and simple presence touched something in me, and it was good. I left wondering, What exactly is that thing that men have that we need?  It’s hard, honestly, to define, but you know it when you smell it.

It’s at this point that I find myself thrown back to Scripture and its first mention of people, of men and women. The first chapter of Genesis reads: “And God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them” (1:27).”¹³ Since the nineteenth century, these and related passages have been used consistently by assorted biblical scholars to highlight the equality of women with men, the distinct identity that women possess as image bearers of God, and the implicit character traits of God that we typically refer to as feminine. Debates have, and most likely will, continue to swirl around these issues. However, I’ve found myself coming to this text from the other side of the page.

Not so consumed with the place of women in the culture – rather, wondering more about the role men play – I’ve reflected on this passage.  And the conclusion is obvious:  men and women, together, reflect God’s image.  That’s why both genders are simply flooded with value.  And it’s why we need each other.  Even if you or I lack any practical, urgent or felt need for men, men, as equal image bearers of God, are integral to our knowing, seeing, and experiencing him. So, though maybe it’s a mystery, it’s still quite real.

In the past, women were propelled into interdependent relationships with men to a far greater degree than today. Perhaps many women exercised the strange privilege of jokingly reducing men’s value to “overeating lugs who happen to father our children,” while still receiving and enjoying the benefits of God’s image, imperfectly present in those males. In other words, it was fine to devalue men because as far as anyone could see, men and women were stuck with each other. I say that cautiously, recognizing my own naiveté and ignorance about fallen men, abusive relationships, and oppressive social structures. Undeniably, relative to most women in the world and in history, I speak from a place of freedom. But it is precisely that freedom (i.e., we aren’t stuck with men) that demands of both a decision and a discovery: Will we choose to believe that men carry the image of God? And if so, will we risk discovering more of what the image looks like in a handful of assorted fathers, brothers, colleagues, friends, and, potentially, a husband?