Being a Woman (BrainDump Expansion Part 1)


In which I talk about my God given womanhood and its beauty and preaching and possibilites of significant others including the fears (like those of finding someone anywhere near as dependable as Jesus in his feminism) and the beauties. (I’ve now written most of it, and it is in fact a lot of me dreaming about one of those husband people… And I want to apologize, but that would be silly. I can have dreams and having a dream of a husband doesn’t make me dependent or submissive to men or society and it doesn’t make me less of a feminist or less of a woman. So, there.)
http://sarahbessey.com/disagree-bure-biblical-marriage/
http://sarahbessey.com/tell-love-doesnt-show-movies-love-songs/
(Sarah Bessey is the bomb and so eloquently says all the things about marriage that I need to hear and she’s actually a woman and a conscientious person and a Momma to tinies and a wife and all these things and she’s so far in God’s love it kills me. Her beauty knocks me dead. So you’re gonna get a lot of posts. Because we all need role models and she’s one of mine. And she has these fables and I need to hear them because I have Mamaw’s and that’s all the fairy tale love I know. And I need hope.)
We need gentle feminism, friends. We need a love of women and of men that rests in love and hope and freedom. Because cynical harsh (academic?) feminism is rough and painful and it tears my heart in two. In its own way it reduces womanhood and it reduces beauty and complexity and has too many slogans and not enough depth. Feminism within this wonderful love I know in Christ is everything beautiful and everything necessary.
More than that, though, we need love that’s caring and deep and founded on mutual submission and more about all those love things from 1st Corinthians than passion and casual dating and one night stands and drunken whispers. Because passion is good, but it can’t hold anything up. We need more people like myself (man, that sounds cocky, but I’ve spent so much time beating myself up for the quality I’m about to list and I’m only finding through repeated affirmations from prayer and those I love that this IS good) and my Momma and this gorgeous friend of mine who happens to love The Little Mermaid (so that’s what we’ll call her, because I have this issue with putting names on my blog). We need people who emotionally invest themselves and put themselves in a position where, yes, hurt is a very real possibility, in fact a probability, but the love that comes out of it, in whatever way, whether it’s friendship or romance or what have you, is so much deeper and so legit and so trustworthy and so unmistakable by everyone who feels it (we hope).
Because I’m beginning to think that lasting romantic love for me will be stumbling into someone who can keep up with me in depth and intensity of my vulnerability and investment. Because otherwise I’ll be longing and I’ll be lonely (https://adventuresofrandomness.wordpress.com/2014/01/11/lil-bit-scared-of-all-the-things/). But give me someone who is real and open and honest with me and I could stay with them forever, details aside. And sometimes I’m so scared that it won’t happen. But if God could make me and Momma and My Little Mermaid, he could make men who can love with the same messy intensity. Because us three amigas need it. I’m vulnerable and I want to know someone I can be safe with forever (and someone who needs the same thing from me). And so I practice patience. And I practice drawing into God and trusting while I experience and even enjoy being perpetually single. Because there’s a lot me and God can do just the two of us, and there’s a lot me and my amigas and God can do, too. So I dream with God and I write to a husband I may never have (and there’s a lot of thoughts on this practice from a lot of people, but I do it mostly so I can have a space set aside for my hope so that I can mostly live right now and not in tomorrow’s worries), and all of that is exactly where I need to be and what I need to be doing. The man I marry will be a feminist, and he will be my best friend, and he will support me as I stand behind a pulpit (hell, maybe he’ll be behind a pulpit of his own), and he will match me in vulnerability and intensity. But most of all, he’ll be someone I know loves Christ. He’ll be someone I can submit to and someone who will submit to me and together we’ll submit to this great and grand love that somehow is not just there for us to reach to, but actively WANTS us. He’ll be a feminist because he knows that God chose a woman. Because he knows that it wasn’t just happenstance that the first to preach of Christ and His glory were women. He will be my best friend because I don’t think I could marry someone who’s not. He will support me because being a pastor is hard and scary and I cannot begin to imagine how it’s going to affect me spiritually and emotionally and I’m going to need a person outside of myself who will reassure me that God is good. Because Heaven knows I won’t be able to remember that on my own all the time when I’m standing in the face of pain and suffering and hatred. All the other things about him will be things I find out. They’ll be the things of dreams and details. Whoever I marry will be that one safe person I can always rely on. We’ll try for each other to be like Jesus in out of love… And maybe there will be a couple men I feel this way with and I feel the heartache of letting one or two go while I find the one that’ll stick around… Maybe. Or maybe there’ll just be the one. And maybe I’ll meet him tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll meet him the day before I die. But all this waiting and all this being independent is beautiful in its own right, and I’m doing my best not to hurry it too much. And I’m learning to throw my need for control to the wind sometimes so that I can be authentic and spontaneous with my love. So I can be a woman, not just a girl. So I can share love. So I can be able to lean into and rest with pain and joy and singleness and the hope of sharing life with someone and the desire to have tiny humans of my own to love on. So I can keep on smiling at the people I pass on the sidewalks of campus. So I can freely laugh with friends. So I can be real and legit and not hide or put up walls. Because God made me soft. And I kinda like it. Some people have to work to be soft… I just have to stop fighting the idea that softness is weakness. Which is hard. And I think this got away from womanhood and more into my personhood, but that’s okay. I’m a woman who wants a husband someday, who wants babies in the far flung future, who wants to minister somehow in love as soon as she can, and who wants to be soft and emotional and strong and vulnerable and spontaneous and authentic. Some would argue that I shouldn’t preach until I have a husband who supports it… Because he’s my head or what have you. But that’s a bit outdated, I think. I’m not going to put the wishes of a man ahead of the wishes of God for me… And if a man I fall for doesn’t support my calling, I’m going to leave that heartache behind. Because I am first and foremost a daughter of God. And God has led me to ministry. He’s led me to minister as a woman in all of my crazy complicated emotions and all my ability to hold life and all of my (not necessarily female) vulnerability and all of this “yin energy” that is so good at taking what’s thrown at it and turning the other cheek instead of throwing back. All of these big hips and these curves and these stretch marks. All of this presence I command as a woman with a brain who is super complex and jumbled up. All of this woman who is not so great at having the best or the most correct words, but who is really good at wrestling. This woman who will dance with babies and who likes cooking even though she’s bad at it. This woman who would very much like to someday stay at home with tiny humans and teach them how to read and how to pray. That woman has had the spirit poured out on her as much as any man. Even though she wants a husband and children. Even though she’s a feminist.
I have no idea if that’s the end of this. Or if it makes sense. Or if it’s just a bunch of words I need to write to remind myself. Or if it’s even about being a woman more than being a person. But it’s me and things, I guess. 🙂

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2 Responses to Being a Woman (BrainDump Expansion Part 1)

  1. Lady says:

    you know, if you put paragraph breaks and maybe headers, it would make it a bit easier to read
    just a thought.

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