Raising strong, godly women

Honestly, I think we do a pretty good job raising strong, godly women. When I look at the young women my kids bring home and the young women where I work, I’m impressed.

First, by their fearless faith. These young women aren’t afraid to say the name of Jesus in the grocery store. They form small-group Bible studies. They share their faith in cities around the world. They study theology in college. They tattoo Scripture on their wrists or ankles. And they look forward to singing “Jesus Loves Me” with their children someday—if God so blesses.

I’m also impressed by their stewardship. From early on, they’re serious about developing the talents God gave them. They organize community volunteer efforts, say no to the party the night before the ACT, and box out like a boss on the basketball court. They go get their PhDs so they’re even better equipped to serve. They know some women want to be CEOs and some want to stay home with eight babies, and it’s all good. Their only desire is to spend and be spent for their Lord.

I’m impressed by their character too. They know mercy trumps mascara every time, and real beauty isn’t found in having “Princess” printed on their behinds but in proudly wearing the crown of Christ. They’ve resisted bullies and survived #MeToo experiences. Their eyes pan each new room, looking for people who need a kind word, a cup of coffee, or an ear for a story others aren’t willing to hear. They’re humble. They’re gentle. They’re dedicated.

The real question is not “How can we raise strong, godly women?” We’re doing it. The real question is “What do we do with them next?”

Do we let them use the gifts they’ve so faithfully developed? Do we allow them to share their God-given wisdom? Do we let them take their various places in the body of Christ?

Or are we a little afraid of them? Does the word strong make us nervous when it comes to the female half of God’s church? Do we inadvertently send the (erroneous) message that in the body of Christ, God wants each woman to be a hand—someone who works hard and then hides herself in a pocket?

A while ago, I hired a student writer who’s smart, hard-working, and creative. As we talked, she had an interesting habit. At the end of each sentence, she raised her voice, as if to ask a question. I encouraged her not to do that. I told her God gave her that intelligence and that voice. I told her God didn’t give us a spirit of timidity but of love and power and self-discipline. I told her the world and the church don’t want her shushed. They want to hear what she has to say.

Help prove me right. Listen to your daughters. Encourage them. Acknowledge them as the Priscillas, Phoebes, and Eunices of our day. Remind them of their Savior’s love. Then stand back and watch how he blesses the service of these young women.

Laurie Gauger-Hested and her husband, Michael, have a blended family that includes her two 20-somethings and his teenage son.

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