My Waffle Brain And Your Spaghetti Thoughts Poem by Chris Taylor

I was listening to my local Christian Radio station last month as I was traveling to work. The subject they were discussing was how the male and female brain are different in the way they organize and use the information they receive. They stated the man’s mind is like that of a waffle, each with its separate compartments. Us men like to have bits of info filed and filled into each appropriate compartments and we like to stick to the subject that each compartment is holding at the time. That’s why ladies, when we are focused on a particular subject, and you ask us something that is not along the same lines, you get that empty stare from us, we just don’t know how to handle that. Our brain was still in the previous waffled compartment. We don’t usual change subjects at a lightning like speed, like all you ladies are very adept at doing. Later, they began to say how a woman’s thoughts are like following a noodle in a huge bowl of spaghetti; a massive continuous piece that twists, turns and inter-loops at any direction, at any moment. While I was hearing this humorous and thought-provoking message about the differences in men and women, the Lord spoke to me about a wonderful passage in 1 Corinthians chapter 12. It speaks about how God has made us all different, and how much we need each little part of us to make a whole body of believers. I particularly love this passage from 1 Corinthians 12: 14&15 “Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body, ” it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body.” Also, verses 18 and 19: “But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? ” Finally, verses 26 and 27 as well: “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.”
This is usually a chapter that speaks about spiritual gifts, but I feel it does a great job of commenting on living in peace with all of our christian brothers and sisters as well. So, men, ladies, don’t fight over our differences. Don’t draw up battle lines and go to war about the things that God intended to be contrasting in the first place. We can sometimes sabotage our relationships with our help-mates when we criticize, or try to change, the nuances of the other person to make them a graven image of what YOU desire in yourself. Stop wasting valuable time on this earth and celebrate how wonderful God made your helper. Now, I’m not talking about keeping a closed mouth about character flaws like: sexual impurity, cheating, lying, stealing, those things need to be discussed and prayed through. I am speaking about the silly little arguments we seem to get in because each person in a relationship is constantly trying to change the other one to make themselves feel more comfortable. My wife and I used to spin our wheels doing this very thing. God showed us that it was a huge waste of our time and to pray for and cherish the things that make each of us unique. God always has a plan. He is never surprised and creates things in His perfect wisdom. So, don’t fight it, appreciate it for what it is: Waffle brains and Spaghetti thoughts. lol

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The Great Plains Poet, accepting of others and waffled-brained man.

My Waffle Brain And Your Spaghetti Thoughts
by Chris T.

I once learned that we don’t think the same.
Because, I like the compartments that organize my brain.
You like to weave many subjects into one;
Like the intertwining of a bowl of spaghetti that never seems done.

My waffle mind, each with a compartment to fill.
Then I check off each one until I am still.
You love the chaos of a multifaceted mind,
Sometimes changing many subjects at a pace that would make one blind.

My thoughts can move with the speed of a dot matrix printer.
The genius you command runs like the legs of a sprinter,
Moving in perpetual motion on a three-dimensional highway.
The frustration you must feel to think of it my way.

The male mind with its grunts and guffaws,
Lacking in communication, we seem just to use our paws.
To strike out, push hard and hit til it hurts.
Most of us afraid to venture from behind our mommies skirts.

The mind of a woman with its proclivity for love,
For most of you will mend the wing of a sorrowful dove.
Forsaking the evil of planning and plots,
My waffle brain and your spaghetti thoughts.