Theology for Women

I posted the following blog just after Christmas last year, but I thought it would be a great reminder as you go out and get your Christmas tree this season. Whenever you look at your tree this year, consider whether it is a picture of your spiritual life.

Even though the Christmas season ended over a month ago, our Christmas tree is still sitting in our front yard. “Why?,” you ask. Well I blame the garbage pick-up people. Apparently there was some sort of miscommunication between us.

A couple weeks after Christmas had passed, we dragged our Christmas tree to the top of our driveway so that the garbage truck could take it away the next morning. Well when my roommates and I came home the following afternoon, we arrived to a startling surprise. Not only had our tree NOT been picked up, but it had been shoved all the way down the hill of our front yard.

It was so far away from the curb that it looked like a deliberate and clear rejection. It was like they were sending us a message: “We want absolutely nothing to do with this tree. In fact, please don’t come near us again.”

Needless to say, I’m still a little hurt.

Ever since then, our tree has been sitting in our front yard untouched. No one from the road can see it because it’s so far down the hill, which is probably why we haven’t moved it–we don’t have to worry about the neighbors thinking we’re hillbillies who leave our trash in our yard. But we also haven’t moved it because we don’t really know what else to do with it. The garbage people rejected it, so where else does one turn?

(And p.s., if you know the answer to why our tree was rejected–if there’s some kind of North Carolina Christmas tree disposal law about which I am unaware–please inform me)

Now this tale of Christmas tree woe is not the point of my writing today. But seeing that sad, little Christmas tree in our front yard, which browns and withers with every passing day, reminds me of an important spiritual truth.

At the end of the day, a Christmas tree is little more than a dying tree. This reality is obvious now that my tree is dried out and brown, but we don’t really think about that fact at Christmastime when the tree is dressed up with ornaments and lights. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I would just sit in front of our tree and stare at it because it was so beautiful, but no matter how much we dressed up that tree, we couldn’t change the reality that this tree had been cut off from its roots, and was now dying a slow and sure death.

Oftentimes, my life feels just like that beautiful Christmas tree. I have covered myself with all kinds of Christian decorations–I have a seminary degree, I’m a writer, a college minister, a Bible study leader, and a mentor to many young women. But at the end of the day, those achievements are all just decorations. They don’t really mean anything, because they do not sustain the Christian life. If you cut yourself off from the Source, then you can be doing all the activities in the world, but still be withering spiritually. And sometimes I feel like I am.

That said, I want you to ask yourself–are you a Christmas Tree Christian? Do you feel as though you are piling on decoration after decoration, yet neglecting the source of your spiritual life? Are your roots firmly planted in an ever-growing relationship with God, or have you cut your roots off by neglecting time in Scripture and prayer?

Like a dying Christmas tree, spiritual death is not readily apparent. It could take months, even years, before the lack of nourishment becomes observable. And that makes it easy for us to ignore this part of our spiritual lives. But if left unfed long enough, the death will inevitably come. Our branches will become too dried out to hold up those ornaments, so they will break and drop them. And eventually, we will look just like that poor little tree that sits in my front yard.

If you are feeling that strain on your branches, or if you feel as though your roots have been cut off from their source, take some time for yourself and God. At the end of the day, your Christian activities are nothing more than cheap ornaments, treasures on earth to be burned away. God cares little for the things that make us look glorious, but He cares greatly for a heart which glorifies Him.

God’s timing is killing me right now. Killing me!

Here’s the deal–for the last several months I’ve been planning a retreat to the beach for all my college students. I picked the location very intentionally, and the whole weekend was designed to be the ideal kickoff for the year. We were supposed to go this weekend.

Unfortunately, tropical storm Hanna had similar plans. Like me, she decided that the North Carolina coast was the perfect spot to spend her weekend. But there isn’t enough room for both of us so I got the boot. Now I’m scrambling for Plan B.

It’s because of stuff like this that I can really hate leading a ministry. There is a LOT of pressure. All the responsibility eventually rests on your shoulders, and if things get screwed up or fail, it’s all your fault. At times, the intensity of the burden feels nearly suffocating.

But the interesting thing is that in those times when I feel most anxious, most fearful, and most prone to quit, I feel closest to God, like I am in the center of His will. It is in those times that I am most compelled to rely on Him.

In those moments, my limitations become undeniably obvious, and I am forced to turn to the One who has no limitations at all. When I realize my inadequacies, I can surrender the situation into the Hands of Him who works mightily through all things.

So while my immediate response to adversity is to retreat, such experiences have taught me to do just the opposite. We should always do MORE than we are initially inclined to take on. By that I don’t mean that we should fill our schedules with an endless number of things that spread us so thin that we can’t do anything well.

When I challenge you to do “more,” I mean “more” in a qualitative, not quantitative, sense. Take on the impossible! Challenge yourself with tasks that are only attainable with the power of God at work. Otherwise, when you cower in the face of such opportunities, you sentence yourself to a mundane life of spiritual mediocrity.

But God has not called us to mediocrity. He’s called us to be dreamers of big dreams, to aim for more than we could have ever imagined, and to believe that God will always exceed our expectations. But in order to do this, we must leave our meager, human-sized goals behind, and instead strive for something more.

What are you working toward? Even if you’re in full-time ministry, it’s still easy to scale down your possibilities to fit within the boundaries of human limitation. But fight that temptation. No matter where you are, do more. Always do more. It can be unbelievably hard at times, but it’s also the most exhilarating and satisfying place to be. Nothing compares with knowing that the Holy Spirit is working through you, thanks to no ability of your own. That, I think, is a real encounter with God.

I will never forget the first time I saw a documentary on the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In case you are unfamiliar with this great defender of the faith, he lived in Germany during Hitler’s rule, and he was one of the only Christians in the entire country to resist the Nazis. In fact, he and a small band of Christians devised an assassination plot against Hitler. They were almost successful in their attempt, but the plan failed and they were all discovered. Bonhoeffer was subsequently executed.

The reason I loved the documentary so much is that it got me excited about my own faith. Bonhoeffer seemed like the equivalent of a Christian super hero–he stood firm against all odds in the face of clear evil. He fought valiantly, in the name of Christ, and he died for a noble cause.

I want to be a part of such a fight, in which the stakes are high and much is to be lost, but I lay down my life because I am a Christian, and that is my calling. I want to be remembered for standing unflinchingly against the powers of evil. I wanna be like Wonderwoman! Except the Christian version (which would probably have sleeves and knee-length shorts).

And I know that I’m not alone in feeling this way. Many women read about the lives of Jim Eliot, Martin Luther King, or women like Perpetua (who I wrote about last month), Christians who all fought and died for the sake of the Gospel. We read about these individuals, and it stirs something deep within us.

It stirs our inner warrior, that part of us that knows we were created to fight mighty battles on behalf of Christ. We are reminded of what our soul has known all along–that our calling is high and the struggle is great, but we will not have lived if we did not wage this war. We want to rise up and be women of valor, to live and die for something bigger than ourselves.

This desire, this calling, is written on the very foundation of my heart. And I know it is written on yours as well.

But what has become of this call to arms? Are we content to experience the fleeting exhilaration of a good sermon or an inspiring story, and then go back to our mediocre lives, never truly tasting greatness?

I think we are. We have become content to settle, and I see this in the way women talk about church leadership. When we discuss our future roles in the church, we do not use that kind of inspiring language. We do not refer to the imagery of epic battles and spiritual warfare. We leave that to the boys.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard women say “I feel called to marry a pastor” or “I want to marry a church planter.” Heck, I’ve said it myself! But it’s not often that you hear women talk about their own calling to ministry, their own desire to start a church where no church has gone before, their own sweeping visions for the Kingdom of God.

But regardless of where you stand on the topic of women in ministry, there is a degree to which women are unequivocally called to plant churches and lead within the church. Why? Because no person can plant a church alone. No person can lead a congregation alone. It takes a team of visionaries, a group of hard workers with varying gifts to pull off such an undertaking.

So even if you feel that only men should be senior pastors, a minister is nothing without fellow church planters, both male and female. You never hear about a solitary pastor starting a church in his apartment by preaching to his living room furniture and his dog. Instead, you hear about a team of individuals, couples, families and singles who begin meeting and worshiping together, all with one shared goal for their community–the spread of the Gospel.

That said, women are definitely called to be church planters. While there are certainly instances in which a woman must work or stay at home so that her husband is freed up to focus solely on starting a church, that is not the only role that women can fill. If your husband is called to plant a church, then you are not merely “the wife of a church planter”–YOU are a church planter! The two of you are likely called to the same purpose, so you’re not simply tagging along for the ride. Your husband needs a co-laborer who will build him up, spur him on, fill in the ministry gaps that he is not gifted to fill. He needs a fellow soldier who will wield a sword alongside of him.

And if you are single and feel called to church planting, don’t just wait around for a husband who feels the same way. Perhaps God wants you to take action now, to jump on board with a team of people who are praying towards the same end. You can lend your time, experience, training, education, and leadership wherever you are. The church certainly needs it.

Regardless of your circumstances, take ownership of the desire that God has written onto your female heart. Men are not the only ones who God calls to be warriors–the moment you committed to follow Christ, you became a part of a cosmic battle in which you are expected to fight. We are all soldiers together, so take hold of the call to which God is compelling you, and take up your sword. The forces of evil will quake with fear and dread if you will only rise up and respond to God’s battle cry. It’s time to fight like a girl.

Even though the Christmas season ended over a month ago, our Christmas tree is still sitting in our front yard. “Why?,” you ask. Well I blame the garbage pick-up people. Apparently there was some sort of miscommunication between us.

A couple weeks after Christmas had passed, we dragged our Christmas tree to the top of our driveway so that the garbage truck could take it away the next morning. Well when my roommates and I came home the following afternoon, we arrived to a startling surprise. Not only had our tree NOT been picked up, but it had been shoved all the way down the hill of our front yard. It was so far away from the curb that it looked like a deliberate and clear rejection. It was like they were sending us the message, “We want absolutely nothing to do with your tree, and we never want to come near it again.” Needless to say, I’m still a little hurt.

Ever since then, our tree has been sitting in our front yard untouched. No one from the road can see it because it’s so far down the hill, which is probably why we haven’t moved it–we don’t have to worry about the neighbors thinking we’re hillbillies who leave our trash in our yard. But we also haven’t moved it because we don’t really know what else to do with it. The garbage people rejected it, so where else does one turn?

(And p.s., if you know the answer to why our tree was rejected–if there’s some kind of North Carolina Christmas tree disposal law about which I am unaware–please inform me)

Now this tale of Christmas tree woe is not the point of my writing today. But seeing that sad, little Christmas tree in our front yard, which browns and withers with every passing day, reminds me of an important spiritual truth.

At the end of the day, a Christmas tree is little more than a tree that is dying. This reality is obvious now that my tree is dried out and brown, but we don’t think about it at Christmastime when the tree is dressed up with ornaments and lights. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I would just sit in front of our tree and stare at it because it was so beautiful, but no matter how much we dressed up that tree, we couldn’t change the reality that this tree had been cut off from its roots, and was now dying a slow and sure death.

Oftentimes, my life feels just like that beautiful Christmas tree. I have covered myself with all kinds of Christian decorations–I have a seminary degree, I’m a writer, a college minister, a Bible study leader, and a mentor to many young women. But at the end of the day, those achievements are all just decorations. They don’t really mean anything, because they do not sustain the Christian life. If you cut yourself off from the Source, then you can be doing all the activities in the world, but still be withering spiritually. And sometimes I feel like I am.

That said, I want you to ask yourself–are you a Christmas Tree Christian? Do you feel as though you are piling on decoration after decoration, yet neglecting the source of your spiritual life? Are your roots firmly planted in an ever-growing relationship with God, or have you cut your roots off by neglecting time in Scripture and prayer?

Like a dying Christmas tree, spiritual death is not readily apparent. It could take months, even years, before the lack of nourishment becomes observable. And that makes it easy for us to ignore this part of our spiritual lives. But if left unfed long enough, the death will inevitably come. Our branches will become too dried out to hold up those ornaments, so they will break and drop them. And eventually, we will look just like that poor little tree that sits in my front yard.

If you are feeling that strain on your branches, or if you feel as though your roots have been cut off from their source, take some time for yourself and God. At the end of the day, your Christian activities are nothing more than cheap ornaments, treasures on earth to be burned away. God cares little for the things that make us look glorious, but He cares greatly for a heart which glorifies Him.