Dear sisters,
I was in my early twenties when our country was experiencing a time of intense turmoil in the late 1960s and 70s. I followed the crowd, walking in protest marches dressed in a military camouflage jacket while my brother fought in a controversial war on the other side of the world in the dank jungles of Vietnam. Women were on a rampage, feminists burning their bras, sexual promiscuity rising to new heights, the stigma of babies born out-of-wedlock and divorce waning, rebelling against the social mores of two hundred years of tradition. And to the great shame of our nation Roe v. Wade was settled at the Supreme Court giving legal license to women to murder their made-in-the-image-of-God babies in wombs which were fashioned for safety and life, not gruesome extermination. Not really a feminist, I still sang lustily along with Helen Reddy and millions of others, “I am woman, hear me roar in numbers too big to ignore…No one’s ever gonna keep me down again…I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman…”, enjoying the elusive power the lyrics promised—And with Nancy Sinatra a few years before as she sang to some faceless man, “These boots were made for walking and that’s just what they’ll do. One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you.” I had not thought of these catchy yet dangerous tunes for many years until reminded of them in a Bible Study recently as we discussed the counter-cultural truths of God’s design for womanhood. I was not a Christian way back in my twenties, nevertheless, much of what was going on repulsed me though I hypocritically pretended agreement. I was brought up the old way, the biblical way, and those God-given nesting and nurturing sensibilities were part of me. I had always wanted to love a man, be married, have babies (not that these are the sum total of—or even necessary for—Christian womanhood!). I’m thankful for my inward revulsion. Good grief, God had enough to demolish in my heart, breaking down ugly rooms of sin, pointing me toward submission and a gentle spirit and a myriad other beauties to replace hideous qualities in my being when He finally brought me to Himself.
As I contemplate God’s design for womanhood and what is most meaningful to me at this stage of my life in 2018, I can’t help but ponder the first man and woman in the garden and the perfections of their creation and marriage and dominion over the land and animals and how God created woman to be a helper and a life-giver. These two go hand-in-hand implying selflessness, servanthood, and nurturing, making life easier and more pleasant for others, enabling them to glorify Christ more and more with help, not hindrance from woman. But then came the forbidden tree and its fruit and the wily serpent when everything changed and God’s glorious design became twisted, distorted in the lives of His children. Helper became hinderer, life-giver became life-taker. Such utter sadness. A pall over the once perfect.
But God still calls us to be helpers and life-givers, marred though we are, showing us how that is worked out in our lives in the classic passage on older and younger women in Titus 2:3-5, as well as in 1 Peter 3:1-5 and Ephesians 5:22-24.
Think about it. If we are life-givers, we will speak well of and to others, not killing them with gossip, whispering, and back-biting tongues. We will not drain life from our husbands and children and loved ones with smart-aleck sarcasm or put-downs, thinking we make ourselves look quick and witty.
If we give life we will be discerning without nit-picking and judgmentalism which only disclose pride in our supposed great knowledge and intuition, revealing abhorrent self-righteousness.
If we grant life we will be given to opening our homes for nurturing needy guests with beauty and graciousness and selflessness. Without hospitable hearts, our homes, our tables, our
decorations are a shell and a show, feeding our own shallow hearts with empty and ugly pride.
We nourish the souls of others and honor the Lord when we are soft and amenable, easily entreated, gentle and quiet in our spirits, forgiving one another as the Lord forgives us. Petty disputes, jealousies, and insecurities disappear as we sacrifice our lives for others and find our worth in the God of the universe, not in volatile emotions and false sense of self-esteem.
If we are giving life to our husbands, children, and others in our spheres of influence we help fill up what may be lacking in their emotional tanks, depleted from the world’s vicious and unrelenting demands.
Submission to our husbands or other authorities in our lives, deferring humbly to their leadership promotes peace, stability, joy, even freedom all around.
We give life by being self-controlled and not lazy in all areas. Lack of discipline affects everyone around us, sapping them and us of peace and calm, order, refuge, and rest.
If we do not give life to others, God’s precious Word is blasphemed as we arrogantly dismiss His commands as not as important as our agendas, feelings, convenience, or weariness.
You get the picture. Not many of our words or actions are truly neutral. Most affect those around us, bringing joy and peace and safety or sorrow or anger or discomfort. But lest we think selfless character qualities can be conjured up in some lovely personalities of our own design and doing, God tells us the ability begins with Him and His power. We are to live reverent lives before Him, Coram Deo, thinking of Him rightly as He is revealed in His Word—as Lord of all. His selfless, life-giving love, exhibited ultimately on the bloody cross, is shed abroad in the hearts of His daughters, and we, in turn, are given the power to give our lives to others as we live in obedience to what we know to be true.
I wish I could say I do these things perfectly. I wish I could say I’m a fast learner. Not so. The sanctifying process is painstakingly slow, yet sweetly persistent. I know what God expects of me as a woman, and with resolve and God’s strength in me, I press on. I ask forgiveness a hundred times in short order, but God is working His life-giving character in me, making me a little more like Jesus every day, imperceptibly at times, but as surely as the sun rises and sets—until that day when we, who belong to Him, will be like Him, having seen Him face-to-face. O blessed day.
May God make us the helpers and life-givers of His grand and wise design—to our husbands, children, friends, the church, store clerks, Amazon delivery men, strangers, even that one, an enemy, who has taken life from us, sapping our emotions and energy with thoughtless or intentional words and deeds. May others love to see us coming, not because we are charming or popular or for what they can extort from us, but because we liberally offer trustworthiness, safety, emotional nourishment, and words of truth for life here and for eternity, spoken in love.
“A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit…Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body…Death and life are in the power of the tongue.”
(Proverbs 15:4, 16:24, 18:21)
Love,
Cherry