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This was the inscription below an old black and white photo that hung at the top of the stairs of my childhood home growing up. A snapshot from the local rodeo in Pendleton, Oregon, it portrayed a throng of women atop their horses, posing for an early 1900’s display of pure girl power. As a little girl, I used to study the picture for hours, imagining the dust swirling around the horse’s hooves, wondering what colors of leather fringe and rodeo queen flags had been canceled out by the black and white medium of the photograph. I was forever enamored by these women, intrigued by the obvious camaraderie and joy shared between them, paired with the tenacity and resilience of their stature.
These were strong women, I was sure of it.
Fast forward a decade or so, and that photo is probably sitting in storage somewhere. The little girl who used to stare at the photo on the wall is now in her early twenties, and to be honest, I’m in a constant state of observing, studying, and trying to understand my own definition of what a strong woman looks like. As a young girl, there were several female figures, both fictional and nonfictional, paraded in front of my young eyes and heart, setting the stage and expectations for female strength. From Disney princesses to the Proverbs 31 Woman, to steadfast ladies like Beth Moore, bold ones like Elizabeth Blackwell, and heroines with daring, daunting stories like Amelia Earhart. I also think a lot about my mom in regards to strength. She is a single parent who shouldered the weight and finances of three daughters, working a full-time job and running our small farm. She was up at the first sign of daylight every morning, moving irrigation pipe in the hayfield just beyond my bedroom window, and worked tirelessly to make sure each of her daughters had the opportunity to pursue what they wanted.
Throughout the duration of my twenty-two years thus far, I’ve often pondered what attributes make a woman strong, and I admit that I’ve both struggled and failed to meet these expectations. I’ve over-prioritized certain things and forgotten completely just where my source of strength comes from; straight from the heart of the Father.
So what does a strong woman look like anyways?
Are they hardworking? Do they have full schedules, and utilize their Google calendars really well? Do they sacrifice their dreams and goals to raise their children and stay at home? Can strength be quiet, but also be bold and sometimes vibrant and loud?
The independent, competitive, enneagram 3, go-getter in me wants a strong woman to be the embodiment of all of these: the rags to riches, the trailblazer, the started-from-the-bottom-now-she’s-here woman. Now don’t get me wrong, I think there is value in those things. But if there is anything that I’ve come to understand in the past few years it’s this:
I believe this to be true because of the women who have fought specifically for me. These women have selflessly shown up for me when I didn’t deserve it. Women who have busy lives and busy schedules, and their own families to care for, yet chose to buy me coffee, to patiently ask me questions, and set me free with their words. Women who love freely, give freely, celebrate freely, and have wept with me freely. Women who exist as living, breathing examples of Paul’s instruction to the church in Philippi:
“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” – Philippians 2:3-4
I think that somewhere along the way, at one point or another, we’ve bought into the lie that there’s not enough space for all of us.
I’ve quietly observed this in the struggle of limited church positions available to women at churches I deeply love and respect. I’ve watched from afar as women grapple with their own platforms, and are nervous to give platform to fellow females, afraid to lose what they’ve fought so hard to earn and to keep.
I remember sensing it growing up in a family with three girls, all of us striving to gain attention and approval and recognition as if our parents didn’t love and see the good things in each of us.
Too often I am aware of the spirit of rivalry that runs rampant through our hearts and minds in the presence of other women; pitting us against one another, convincing us we need to do better, look better, be better. I can’t believe for one moment that this was the Father’s plan for us. This cannot be the fullness of His heart for His daughters, the ones who bear His image, the ones anointed to be a witness to His love and light. This cannot be the only way, the only road paved to our understanding of what it means to be strong. Too often we live striving for the world’s cheapened version of strength, yet there is a greater strength that we have gained through our adoption as the Daughters of God. We live as if the Father didn’t create this beautiful, spacious world with His girls in mind, with enough space for every last one of us.
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I repent and admit in full that I’ve been the girl to see something beautiful inside of someone, but have hesitated to call it out. Why? Because I’m too afraid it might direct the approval and attention away from me, from my efforts, and from the goals and dreams I’m working so hard towards. Yet if we truly understand the abundant life that Jesus promised us, we must know that scarcity is a lie, and that there is more than enough space for us all. I believe in so many ways that this way of thinking has been handed down to us, via pop-culture and solo female leads in movies and television shows, riddled with the notion that only one woman can have it all.
Here, in this conversation, I pray that we would choose to set that down. To leave behind what has been passed down to us, and to pick up what has been freely given to us – our sole identity as the Daughters of God. To step into the fullness of who we are as image bearers and as Jesus followers, as a collective sisterhood that embodies strength that goes deeper than the #GirlBoss hashtag on Instagram. I believe that we can live as empowered women, and simultaneously empower other women, choosing to amplify one another’s voices without fear of our own being muted out or set aside. That we would see the goodness and beauty in ourselves that He sees when He looks at us, as well as in our sisters.
“I myself am convinced, my brothers and sisters, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with knowledge and competent to instruct one another.” – Romans 15:14
When I reflect on the narrative of my own story, I can’t claim to have always felt heard or seen or discipled in the construct of my family unit. Nonetheless, I will forever testify to the incredible relationships that God has poured out in abundance over my life. If you were to ask me to point to some of the most tangible indicators of the Father’s faithfulness in my life, at the very top of that long list would be the incredible women that surround me.
My friend Morgan points me to sides of God’s character that I’ve never seen before and fights to hold space for the emotions I’m quick to ignore and suppress.
Bailee is loyal and steadfast. She fights to abide in our friendship, even when we live thousands of miles apart.
Eden relentlessly contends for my dreams and dreams my dreams with me. She fights for my creativity, and for my assurance that I can make a difference with my words.
Naomi fights for my rest, for my mental and physical well-being, and she never turns away from the hard conversations.
Some of these women have walked with me for over a decade, and some only for a few years. We’ve endured wonderful and terrible seasons, through long distances and short distances. They’ve proofread thousands of my words, helped me process when I’m at a loss for them, and continually used their own to point me back to the feet of Jesus. They’re always down for brunch and know I have a hard time keeping my phone charged. They have been safe places for me to unpack my heart, on dorm room floors and over kitchen counters, during 2 am Facetime calls. They have fought for me, in insurmountable ways: for greater capacity of understanding, for deeper intimacy with Jesus, for hard conversations, and for genuine community. It is in my friendships with these women that I see the glimpses of the Kingdom breaking through, and that I testify to the communal nature of the Holy Spirit and the beauty of the Kingdom of God.
If there’s anything that I’ve observed to be true of these women who fight so well for me it’s this: they allow themselves to be fought for.
They aren’t too proud or independent or tough or resilient to invite those they trust into their brokenness, and they allow others to help them carry their load. They teach me to never be too humble or proud to shoulder everything solo, but rather they abandon it all at the feet of Jesus. They imperfectly and beautifully contend for my cause, and they fight for me in ways I didn’t know I needed. They look me in the eye and don’t look away from my pain, or from the deepest things I’ve kept hidden inside. They believe me when I’ve offered up parts of my story that are hard for me to bear alone, and discern the voice of the Holy Spirit when responding to me. I’ve come to realize that the photo that hung at the top of the stairs of my home has been replaced; with a community of vibrant, fervent women who have become my home.
Dear Sisters, may we be empowered to rise up to our calling to be women who fight, for one another, and allow others to fight for us. May we be women who take up our space in this world, to own our platforms, to wield our voices with grace and poise, and yet simultaneously, create space for others. My prayer for us is that we would be determined to build one another up and to foster relationships instead of rivalry. That we would have the capacity and maturity to set down our colorful opinions of everything currently flashing across our screens and minds, and first turn to one another and call each other ‘sister.’ To create space where brokenness and blessing collide, where we freely invite the Holy Spirit to do His thing, to remake and restore and redeem us. To cheer on and champion the women around us, and believe in their ability to succeed and lead and flourish, just as we fiercely believe in our own ability to do so. From the very deepest part of who I am, this is what I believe to be the truest embodiment of female strength. There is much work to be done, and may we do it diligently, faithfully, and reverently, and may we do it together.
“The Lord announces the word, and the women who proclaim it are a mighty throng…” – Psalm 68:10
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Emma is a 22-year-old college student that cares deeply about breakfast food, her agricultural roots, and kitchen dance parties. She’s passionate about creating space for people to be seen and heard, and strives to weave words together that draw people deeper into the company of Jesus. She is currently pursuing her Bachelor of Arts in Pastoral Ministries with an emphasis in Church Leadership at Northwest University in Kirkland, WA. Her free time is best spent with the people who know her best, especially when that time is spent on the Oregon Coast, particularly when it’s storming. You can read more of her words at: emmaselene.com
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I am blessed by your words and I marvel at the maturity you show at only 22 (I will be 61 at the end of the month)! I appreciate your honest reflections and encouragement of not just your readers, but of those who are blessed to be your friends. You definitely are gifted for this ministry of words, Emma! May the Lord continue to expand the borders of your influence!
This is so good, so powerful & so true. Your words are spirit filled & I am confident He will use you to do great things for the kingdom of God…keep running towards Him