By the end of Proverbs 31, we stand back and marvel at King Lemuel's lyrical model of the virtuous woman.

She's the excellent wife more precious than jewels.

She has the heart of her husband who trusts her, knowing that she will do him good and not harm all her days.

Her industry is marvelous, her arms clothed with strength.

She diligently labors in her household from early

morning and even toils into the night. Far from an anxious bundle of raw nerves ready to explode

at the slightest provocation, she laughs at the time to come, her raiment woven of strength

and dignity. Her mouth knows wisdom and kindness is always to be found on her tongue.

The result of all this glory, her people bless her name and praise her. Many women have done

excellently, but you surpass them all. What would happen if we built her foil, if we described

her polar opposite, the anti-Proverbs 31 woman. How would we sketch

her character? Well, she is a poor wife, as common as lead. She has firmly secured the

antipathy of her husband, who trusts only that she will bring him pain and harm all her days,

which he finds himself wishing were short.

Her industry is lackluster, her arms clothed with laziness, she rises late and neglects

home and hearth, staying up late to mindlessly scroll her social media feeds.

Her nerves are the constant companion of all those unfortunates who must live with her, ready to explode

at the merest touch of stress.

Her raiment is moodiness and disrespect.

Her mouth knows sarcasm, battery acid is on her tongue.

The result of this infamy, her people curse her name and hope to escape her.

Many women have done excellently,

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