Writing to pierce
What does it even mean to be a Godly woman? (Part 11)
For my entire life, I’ve struggled hard with the generally accepted idea of how a “Godly woman” should communicate. The evading of confrontation or saying hard things. The avoidance of speaking when a man could instead. The “fundie baby voice” and cloaking everything in saccharine sweetness. Apparently the only allowed words to describe a Godly woman’s communication are “gentle” and “quiet”.
Instead, I was the girl who always spoke up in youth group, and pushed back against the status quo. In Bible college, I was usually the one who argued with the professors, and I had a fellow (male) student tell me before the spring formal that all the guys were intimidated by me because I was tall and had opinions. When living in New Zealand as part of a small intentional community, I was often the only woman sharing much in our evening discussions.
Even in my hyper-conservative years, I really wrestled with these ideas that I thought were the gold standard for Godly feminine communication. If I’d had this strong voice since my childhood, shouldn’t I assume that God created me this way? And if He created me this way, why would He not want me to use what He had given me? So many spiritual gifts have to do with discerning and communicating truth (prophecy, exhortation, word of wisdom, word of knowledge, etc.), and if Paul isn’t telling us those are just for men, then why are so many men claiming Godly authority limiting my communication just because I’m female?
As I shared in the post I wrote on my fortieth birthday:
“Especially in my late teens and twenties, I fell hard for the idea that a Godly woman was one who shut up, sat still, and looked pretty. I listened to the many men over the years (to clarify, my dad was NOT one of them) who communicated to me in various ways that of course that is how God views women and thinks they should act, and obviously xyz man knows better than me about that because, well, he’s a man.
“So I stifled my strong God-given voice, and made myself smaller, because that’s what a Godly woman supposedly does. But…’You will know them by their fruits.’ (Matthew 7:16a), and eventually, one by one by one, bad fruit outed every single man who had told me all those narcissistic patriarchal lies, either verbally or through a book/teaching or just through how they treated me/all women. And then the light started breaking in…”
Knowing how your communication is coming across to others is definitely something everyone should be aware of, and we need to be sure that our speech “always be with grace, seasoned with salt” (Colossians 4:6). However, that directive is to everyone, regardless of gender, and as I looked more at the verses actually directed at women and questioning the interpretation I’d heard my entire life from men whose fruits were outing them, I started to shake free from the unnecessary limitations that I thought were from God, but were actually from men.
This started applying to my writing as well. Three years ago, when the documentary “Shiny Happy People: Duggar Family Secrets” came out, I had many people asking my thoughts and opinions on it. Those conversations spurred a series of Instagram posts where I shared my long and painful experience with patriarchy and its extensive abusive and toxic fallout. (I later condensed that series of Instagram posts into one Substack post that is the second part of this series, “My Patriarchy Story”.)
In general, the response to those posts (which remain some of the most-viewed posts on my Instagram ever) was very positive, with so many women commenting or messaging me privately. They thanked me for sharing my story and experience, as it encouraged them, convicted them, or just made them feel less alone walking their similar hard road.
However, there was (and still is) a minority that felt strongly that I shouldn’t have shared what I did about my story and experience. That it was too negative or divisive or dishonoring (even though the focus was very obviously on the ideology and belief system of patriarchy, and not on any one person). I struggled with this, and talked extensively about it with several people I trust. I don’t want to intentionally cause pain to others, but also don’t feel like I should skimp on the truth because it might hurt someone’s feelings.
I’ve had people tell me that I should write a book about my story with patriarchy, but this stickiness of knowing it would definitely offend and possibly hurt certain people kept me from pursuing anything along those lines. It’s a subject I’m hugely passionate about, but I didn’t know how to reconcile all the swirling and conflicting thoughts.
But that was before the life-changing C.S. Lewis Writer’s Conference at the end of May. Even from the very first plenary, listening to the beloved Lancia E. Smith, I was brought up short by her first question: “What are the words you’re willing to die for?” I was musing on my answer to that during her talk, as she then reminded us that, as writers, our job was to bear witness to those words, and tell the truth with all of ourselves and all of our lives.
As I was continuing to reflect on her questions and encouragement, we were treated to a delightful video plenary from the wonderful poet, Malcolm Guite. Near the end of his talk, he mentioned writing challenging words, and referenced part of the liturgy he wrote for Every Moment Holy: The Work of the People. The prayer is simply entitled “A Liturgy Before Writing”, and the part that Malcolm shared said this:
"Lord, if I am called in this writing, not only to bless but to challenge, not only to create but to critique, then give me deftness, discretion, compassion. The Scripture you have given us both blesses and pierces, sharper than a two-edged sword, to the division of joint and marrow. If you call on me to pierce, to pierce through illusion or falsehood, to pierce through hardened or blunted conscience, then may I always pierce with your sword, and not with mine, for where you pierce you always heal, and where you cast down, there you intend to build."
And I had my answer. For myself, my journey through patriarchy is essentially a love story, of God drawing me to Himself through the mire of lies that patriarchy told me and showed me. The lie that somehow God viewed women as less-than. The lie that the systems He set up didn’t care about my abuse. And the lie that I was supposed to take this wild and free birch tree of a poem that God spoke of me (another Malcolm Guite beautiful jewel of a truth!) and stuff it into a man-derived box of rules.
To answer that first question Lancia posed, those are the words I’m willing to die for. That God loves me, and you, and you, and you. Regardless of whether you’re a man or a woman. And that mire of lies in patriarchy is not of Him.
And so I decided: I’m going to write that book, that one that tells the story of my journey through and out of patriarchy. I have no idea if it will ever be published, or if it will ever be read by anyone beyond my tiny circle of loved ones. But I have to be faithful to what I feel I’ve been called to, in ways that I now see stretching back through my entire life.
At the end of the conference, Lancia blessed us all with a “word shepherd’s benediction”, and it was later sent out to all the conference attendees. I printed out a copy for my journal, my conference notebook, and to put on the wall next to my desk. I also may or may not have surreptitiously videoed the original, which brings me to tears every time I watch it. Part of that benediction was charging us to “bear witness bravely”.
And that’s what I want to do: bear witness bravely. Filled with courage, I will declare “the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living” (Psalm 27:13).
“What does it even mean to be a Godly woman?” series
Part One: I don’t know anymore
Part Three: On finding yourself in poetry
Part Four: On being an apple tree
Part Six: My issue with the “tradwife” movement
Part Seven: When your tidy ideas meet real life
I am so thrilled to hear about this book-to-be, Jessica!! It is desperately needed!
Bravely written, Jessica!