Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul

by John Eldredge

The result is shame, the universal companion of women. It haunts us, nipping at our heels, feeding on our deepest fear that we will end up abandoned and alone.

The desires that God has placed into our hearts are clues as to who we really are and the role that we are meant to play.

When we understand just how glorious gender is, how distinct and complementary, how unique and utterly worthy of respect on all sides, I think we can find a better way in our relations. After all, Jesus—the most loving man ever—seemed to think that gender was essential to human understanding: “Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female’” (Matt. 19:4).

God doesn’t make generic people; he makes something very distinct—a man or a woman. In other words, there is a masculine heart and a feminine heart, which in their own ways reflect or portray to the world God’s heart.

Creation itself is a great work of art, and all works after it are echoes of the original.

“The whole, vast world was incomplete without me. Creation reached its finishing touch in me.”

Beauty is essential to God. No—that’s not putting it strongly enough. Beauty is the essence of God.

Nature is not primarily functional. It is primarily beautiful. Stop for a moment and let that sink in. We’re so used to evaluating everything (and everyone) by their usefulness that this thought will take a minute or two to begin

But Christians minimize it too, or overspiritualize it, making it all about “character.” We must recover the prize of Beauty. The church must take it back. Beauty is too vital to lose.

It is a kind of food our souls crave. A woman’s breast is among the loveliest of all God’s works, and it is with her breast that she nourishes a baby—a stunning picture of the way in which Beauty itself nourishes us. In fact, a woman’s body is one of the most beautiful of all God’s creations.

After I lost my dearest friend, Brent, there were months when only beauty helped. I could not hear words of counsel. I could not read or even pray. Only beauty helped.

Sometimes the beauty is so deep it pierces us with longing. For what? For life as it was meant to be. Beauty reminds us of an Eden we have never known, but somehow know our hearts were created for.

And if there is a glory, there is a source of glory.

We know it has caused untold pain in the lives of women. But even there something is speaking. Why so much heartache over beauty? We don’t ache over being geniuses or fabulous hockey players. Women ache over the issue of beauty—they ache to be beautiful, to believe they are beautiful, and they worry over keeping it if ever they can find it.

Every woman has a beauty to unveil. Every woman. Because she bears the image of God. She doesn’t have to conjure it, become a certain size to achieve it, go get it from a salon, or have plastic surgery to obtain it. No, beauty is an essence that is given to every woman at her creation. Every woman.

We tried to reveal the immeasurable dignity, the holiness of your feminine heart by showing that it is God who longs for Romance; it is God who longs to be our ezer; it is God who reveals beauty as essential to life. You are the image bearer of this God. That is why you long for those things too.

As Bing Crosby said in The Country Girl, “Just about anybody can face a crisis. It’s that everyday living that’s rough.”1

Somehow, somewhere between our youth and yesterday, efficiency has taken the place of adventure.

We are more keenly aware of our own shortcomings than anyone else.

In disobeying God she also violated her very essence. Eve is supposed to be Adam’s ezer kenegdo, like one who comes to save. She is to bring him life, invite him to life. Instead, she invited him to his death. Now, to be fair, Adam doesn’t exactly ride to her rescue.

Men, just when we need them to come through for us . . . check out. They disappear, go silent and passive. “He won’t talk to me,” is many a woman’s lament. They won’t fight for us. And women? We tend to be grasping, reaching, controlling. We are often enchanted, like Eve, so easily falling prey to the lies of our Enemy.

Failure is a man’s worst fear.

Woman is cursed with loneliness (relational heartache), with the urge to control (especially her man), and with the dominance of men (which is not how things were meant to be, and we are not saying it is a good thing—it

There is an emptiness in us that we continually try to feed.

Most women hate their vulnerability. We are not inviting—we are guarded. Most of our energy is spent trying to hide our true selves and control our worlds to have some sense of security.

When a man goes bad, as every man has in some way gone bad after the Fall, what is most deeply marred is his strength. He either becomes a passive, weak man—strength surrendered—or he becomes a violent, driven man—strength unglued.

When a woman falls from grace, what is most deeply marred is her tender vulnerability, beauty that invites to life. She becomes a dominating, controllin...

Have you ever wondered why it was that for years hurricanes were named after women? Now, sure, a calculating, heartless man makes a frightening villain. But somehow it’s even worse when the villain is a woman.

women dominate and control because they fear their vulnerability.

“Whatever is not from faith is sin” (Rom. 14:23 NKJV). That self-protective way of relating to others has nothing to do with real loving, and nothing to do with deeply trusting God. It is our gut-level response to a dangerous world.

Can-Do, Bottom-Line, Get-It-Done kinds of women. Women who have never even considered that our Martha Stewart perfectionism might not be a virtue.

We buy ourselves something nice when we aren’t feeling appreciated. We “allow” ourselves a second helping of ice cream or a super-sized something when we are lonely and our hearts need soothing. We move into a fantasy world to find some water for our thirsty hearts.

And the substitutes never, ever resolve the deeper issue of our souls.