'Wild-Hearted' Daughters

If you read the GFL e-newsletter, you may recall my mention of a certain giddiness when I saw an ad for a one-day conference about “Women and Christian History” being held right in my neighborhood. Well, this past weekend, I went.

Some highlights for me included seeing archaeological evidence of women priests, deacons and elders in the early church, and that Notre Dame in Paris had women priests as recently as the Middle Ages. And I enjoyed learning about ancient Jewish and Roman marriage and divorce practices and how those related to the apparently mis-read and misunderstood story of the Samaritan woman at the well.

But my favorite moment of the day, the one that lingered and has made me smile whenever I replay it, came when Dr. Mimi Haddad talked about the women of the early Evangelical movement. In the 19th and early 20th Century, Dr. Haddad told us, Bible colleges and “institutes” sent out women to preach the gospel in big numbers. Incidentally, many of these Bible colleges she mentioned no longer send women out to preach. At least, not intentionally.

But once upon a time, Dr. Haddad said, women who were “wild-hearted” about following God’s call on their lives and “captivated” by the gospel, were trained and sent out by these institutions that “were proud of their wild-hearted daughters.”

If you don’t catch the reference, of course Dr. Haddad was good-naturedly jabbing the wildly (pun intended) popular books, Wild at Heart and Captivating. These books contend that a woman wants “to be romanced, to play a role in her own adventures, and to display beauty,” while a man wants “to be a hero, to be a warrior, to live a life of adventure and risk.”

I need to tread lightly here, as I mean no disrespect to the authors of these books. Obviously what they wrote about must seem true in their own lives and in the people around them. I suspect that many of you will read those characterizations of women and say, “Yes, right. I sure do!”

However, many of us read the premises of the books and wonder what we’re supposed to do if we don’t exactly fit their ideas of what women (and men) want. Especially as it seems more and more church programs for women (and men) take these characterizations as a guiding truths.

When Dr. Haddad made her comment about “wild-hearted daughters,” I smiled and cheered a little, along with many women in the room, because it always feels good to realize you’re not alone. In this case, that we weren’t the only ones who believe that our longings for adventures—of our own or alongside spouses or friends—and for battles worth fighting are placed there by God. And that while beauty and romance may have some place somewhere in our lives, what we really long for is a life of following God’s callings, wild-heartedly.

So hearing the simple statement that places were proud of their wild-hearted daughters warmed my heart. Made me a little jealous even. Because it sure doesn’t feel like the broad Christian community or even our own churches are always proud of us wild-hearted women now.

Often, we are seen as pests, as wanting to be “like men,” of trying to cause trouble for trouble’s sake. Those of us who are wives and mothers and still feel wild calls from God are looked at with suspicion. As if God can’t give a woman a husband, children, and a crazy, counter-culture calling.

Rarely are we embraced—at least in broad circles—as worthy of cheering on and supporting as God’s called and willing warriors. Rarely do we ever sense that others are proud of us.

It’s much easier for our churches, for example, to cater to the women who only want “parts” in another’s adventure. Who care a lot about looking pretty. And who like a bit of romance.

Yet we miss out on so many women—who feel isolated and rejected. I think we miss out on the chance to join in on some of the great work God is doing with his wild-hearted daughters.

So I’m just wondering: First, how does your church “deal” with women who are a bit wild-hearted, seeking the adventure of a risky life following Jesus? Are they embraced? Are they supported? Encourage? But also, what can we, as church leaders, do to foster a broad community once again that champions God’s wild-hearted daughters?

After all, these are women who seek lives of risk and adventure and fighting battles for Jesus. All because they have indeed been captivated by his love and grace.

Playing the 'God Card'

Have you ever thrown down the God Card? Playing the God Card happens whenever one uses “God told me” as the ultimate justification for a decision that requires group consensus. Picture a meeting about budget allocation or using space in the building or ministry direction, and someone goes “all-in.” They might say: “I really feel like God wants this to be happening.” Or: “God told me we should make my announcement first on Sunday morning.” At best, the God Card is an expression of passion and heart having a difficult time explaining itself. At worst, it’s a manipulative tool, a power play to get one’s way.

I think people use the God Card too much, ministry or not. And yes, God told me to say that. (God Card Alert!)

Making difficult decisions in the church is nothing new. The entire book of Acts is devoted to the development and spread of the early church. Acts is about explosive growth of the church, the Spirit showing up with many miraculous signs and wonders, and people converted faster than Paul and his crew could baptize them. I imagine the folks in leadership meetings could hardly keep up.

Can you relate?

Ever felt overwhelmed by your responsibilities, unsure how to move forward, and tentative in your leadership decisions? So did the early church. Ever been in a situation where people drop the God Card to get their way? So was Paul. We read in Acts 15 that some leaders were teaching that circumcision (one of the many laws of the Old Testament) was necessary for salvation. These leaders were confident that it was the way the Church had to proceed. They were “all-in.”

But Paul and Barnabas disagreed with those leaders, and we get a ringside seat to the first of many heart-wrangling decisions about how to interpret the law in light of grace. So what can we learn from their struggles?

• They debated. They had it out, they argued, they disagreed. They held their ground on what they thought was important.

• They respected each other. When all parties decided to travel to be together over this question of circumcision, the Scriptures report that Paul and Barnabas were welcomed. They were received and embraced with love and respect.

• They were persuasive with facts and stories about God’s evidence, not just God’s “voice.” Nobody threw the God Card in this meeting. Each side presented information: stories about what they had seen God doing and why they felt strongly about their argument.

• They searched the Scripture for understanding. They showed forethought and preparation in their argument. They wrestled with understanding scripture as a basis for their decision.

• They compromised. I doubt the final decision was what either side fully wanted, but it was what they could agree upon. And that had to be enough.

• They were tentative and humble. In Acts 15:28, the council comes to a decision and sends a letter back to the churches, saying “it seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us.” “It seemed” was all they could muster. They didn’t say “God told us” or “God has said” or “This is law.” It was not an audible voice or handwriting in stone. It was imperfect people working together to find a compromise, to move forward in unity so that the gospel could be preached effectively.

I love the idea that the final decision was only as strong as “it seemed good.” There’s no reason to throw a God Card, because with hard work, we can work together toward decisions that make sense.

Do you agree with the argument against the “God Card?” Have you struggled with decisions on “this is what God told me?” How do you handle it?

The Big Dig: Unearthing Need in the Church

Since I was small, I have enjoyed the idea of archaeology. Whether a fictional exposition in the movies or the images of real life expositions, I have always been intrigued—not just by the discovery, but primarily by the process. Of course, all sizes of tools are used by archaeologists during their digs for historical artifacts, but I am most captivated by the painstaking care for the treasure by use of the smaller tools and brushes that gently remove dirt, or the sifting of dirt to be sure nothing of value is accidently left behind. The process of unearthing something of value that has been buried for centuries requires a lot of gentleness, patience, and passion.

In a recent conversation with my pastor, we discussed this same idea of unearthing, and in this case, unearthing need. He explained that as he prepares his sermons each week, he keeps in mind not just the needs of the people in the church, but how during his sermon he can help unearth their need. In other words, people don’t always know what their needs are. For him, addressing the needs of the people, moving them from the theological truth to the life-changing application, is as much about the process as it is about the ultimate goal.

In the context of most ministry areas, there is a great deal of discussion on relevance. We want to connect with people by addressing their current struggles and longings, to acknowledge their pain and help them move forward and grow closer to God.

This presupposes, however, that the women we minister to have properly unearthed what their needs are. I believe that to be truly relevant is to carefully help women unearth the needs that they might not entirely be aware of. Carefully—because like a treasure that’s been buried for centuries, unearthing these needs means being prepared for fragility. For example, when a woman is struggling to conceive a child, her need may sometimes be about more than the unfulfilled longing for a child. The need might be actually have to do with an attitude of expectation, a coveting.

Of course, it is good for women to desire children, but to what end? To fulfill personal desire or to please God? Of course, pleasure can be had in actions that please God, but so often our “needs” are framed by the language of “rights” and “wants” to the neglect of God-centeredness. For our task, unearthing needs requires relationship, an understanding of Scripture, the ability to think theologically, and courage to speak gentle truth.

Relevance that is really just resonance can only take us so far. To be truly relevant, we need to pull out our tool belt with the gentle tools of ministry to help women—through the teaching of Scripture and an awareness of what women are facing in this new century—discover their hidden needs which will help them to draw closer to God.

Trusting God the Way We Should

A deadline looms. A project hangs over my head, unfinished. The to-do list stretches by the minute. The laundry pile grows, and the dishes overflow the sink. And I just can't focus enough to finish anything.

I bet you know the feeling.

The guilt of what’s left undone starts to get the best of me. I begin to beat myself up over my lack of focus and discipline. I give myself all the appropriate pep talks, and yet I stare into space and feel even more miserable for my lack of productivity.

Sometimes it is a focus issue, but every once in awhile I realize what I really need is rest. I have exhausted myself, and I have nothing left. I'm running on empty and no amount of self-discipline is going to get it done.

I have tried to do too much in my own power. I have convinced myself I can conquer the world, and I’ve set out to do that entirely on my own and in my own strength.

These are the moments that I usually hear God’s voice reminding me: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30).

Over and over again I find myself in these moments where I realize that my stress is a result of my inability to rest and my inability to trust that God is God and to rest in the fact that he is capable. When I take the burden upon myself, the yoke is unbearable and the burden is overwhelming.

Resting is a way for me to actively trust God. Do I trust that he’s bigger? That he’s capable? That he sees everything (and more) that I see? Do I trust the he is ultimately in control?

If you asked me those questions I would very quickly tell you, “Yes, of course I believe God is in control.” But every time I find myself in one of these moments of utter exhaustion and frantic unrest I know that I still don’t completely trust God the way that I should, the way that I want to, the way that I need to.

But I pray that every restless moment of this realization brings me closer to trusting in the beauty of his rest.

Can you relate to those frantic moments of restlessness? I encourage you to take time to understand and experience the beauty of God’s rest.