seen

Seen.

I can’t seem to get away from that word lately.

One of our speakers at MOPS talked about healthy relationships as places we can feel “seen, soothed, and safe.” On a podcast I just listened to, the guest said something like, “The one thing people are more attached to than their deeply-held beliefs is their need to be seen.” And the underlying theme of a book I read recently—On Purpose by Julie Zine Coleman—seems to center around the devastating lack of seen-ness that women in the modern American church experience, due to the questionable ways we have traditionally interpreted the Bible’s controversial passages about women.

As this word has pestered me until I can no longer ignore it, I’ve grown increasingly uncomfortable with two facts:

1. I need to be (and feel) seen—just like every human being who has ever lived. As much as I’d like to think myself superior, or immune, to this innate human need, I am not.

2. I cannot let the need to be and feel seen hold power over me.

If you were raised in evangelical Christianity, as I was—and especially if you are female—you probably know why the need to feel seen makes me feel so uncomfortable: it’s the exact opposite of how I learned to exist in the world. I always thought that the best and most Christian thing I could be was invisible.

After all, what were the “good” women in church always doing? The invisible tasks, like staffing the nursery, teaching children’s church, counting the offering behind a closed office door, or washing dishes in the kitchen while everyone else socialized over the potluck. And which girls were subject to adult disapproval, subtle or otherwise? The ones they thought to be dressing or behaving “for attention.”

But the quest to become invisible in order to feel like a good person is, I think, actually a backward quest to feel seen. That innate need to be known, understood, and cared for can’t be ignored into nonexistence. The longer we ignore it, the more insatiable it becomes, and the more power it gains over us.

For example: If the people that matter to me are only comfortable when I’m small, quiet, and doing the work of a martyr in the background, I’ll do my best to stay that way—because I need to feel seen and accepted by them. Stepping out of that role might catch their attention in the short term, but it could also alienate them in the long term, which would be an earthquake to my sense of self. So in service of being seen, I remain invisible.

But what happens when, in service of remaining invisible, I refuse to become who God has called me to be?

I’m going to make a statement that would lose some Christian authors, speakers, and influencers a lot of money and attention if it were accepted by the church: I don’t think a sinful desire for attention and power is a major stumbling block for Christian women. I think it’s the opposite—the need to be accepted by the group, the need to not be treated like a pariah for having a voice, is what stands in the way of many women walking in obedience to the Lord. At least, it’s what often stands in my way.

The need to be seen for who we are is real and legitimate, and with it comes the terrible vulnerability of being found lacking. I would rather spend my life protected from criticism by an invisibility cloak woven with nursery shifts and dirty dishes than stand up and speak out on behalf of the Good News of the Kingdom (especially when that good news is often unpopular even within the church’s walls). But have I been called to these acts of quiet, invisible service by God, or by my frail flesh?

For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline.

Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony of our Lord or of me His prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel according to the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace, which was granted to us in Christ Jesus from all eternity…

2 Timothy 1:7-9 (emphasis added)

What might it look like for me to stop living in a spirit of timidity? How could power, love, and discipline change the way I follow the holy calling of God?

As far as specifics go, I don’t know yet. But I know what other seemingly-powerless and invisible women knew long before me: We serve a God who sees, and His is the only judgment that ultimately matters.

So Sarai treated [Hagar] harshly, and she fled from her presence. Now the angel of the LORD found her by a spring of water in the wilderness, by the spring on the way to Shur. He said, “Hagar, Sarai’s maid, where have you come from and where are you going?” And she said, “I am fleeing from the presence of my mistress Sarai.” Then the angel of the LORD said to her, “Return to your mistress, and submit yourself to her authority.” Moreover, the angel of the LORD said to her, “I will greatly multiply your descendants so that they will be too many to count.” … Then she called the name of the LORD who spoke to her, “You area God who sees”; for she said, “Have I even remained alive here after seeing Him?” Therefore the well was called Beer-lahai-roi [the well of the living one who sees me]; behold, it is between Kadesh and Bered.

Genesis 16:6b-10, 13-14

life lately

Mulling over the fact that it’s mid-November, and there are only six weeks left of another year—why does time seem to make less and less sense the more it goes by? I perpetually feel like my body is dragging my brain a month or two behind it, so lost in thought that it doesn’t comprehend the act of turning the calendar even though it’s my own hand doing it. Wasn’t it just September?

Anyway, I’ll spare you all my endless ability to marvel at the passage of time. I wanted to write something light today—something like a snapshot of my current life, what I’m doing and learning and thinking about.

Doing

• Primarily, spending a lot of time with Clara. She is two years old now and the sweetest and silliest person I know. She is speaking in full sentences, but there are still times when I’m the only one who understands them, and I’m going to be sad when that’s not the case anymore. She is inseparable from Alfie, Pooh, Percy, and Bunny-Llama (her four favorite stuffed animals) and one of our favorite things to do together is sit in the rocking chair singing hymns before bed. “Mo see sah?”

• Working out with Sydney Cummings and my sisters-in-law, via YouTube and group text. We commiserate on our pain as well as celebrate our progress. I’ve always loved working out, but I’m especially loving Sydney’s challenges and seeing myself get stronger and stronger. Clara looks forward to it every day, too!

• Going through the prerequisites to become a “member” at my church. Between you and me, I find the entire concept of church membership rather strange and possibly superfluous, but I suppose it’s the best system we have at the moment and so I’m trying to get over myself so that I can become more involved in and accountable to my church body.

Learning

• You all already know I’m taking Intro to the Hebrew Bible from BibleProject, if you’ve read my recent posts. I’m about 60% of the way through and totally enthralled. If you have even the tiniest interest in the subject, you should try this class. (They also have shorter ones on different topics!)

• I’m also learning everything there is to know about baby and toddler sleep, because why not? I had no idea how my perception of sleep would change when Clara was born—at first, it was the biggest stressor of them all, but now it’s one of my greatest fascinations. Did you know there is an enormous amount of science around how we sleep, even as babies? That there is actually a TON you can do to improve sleep quality—your own as well as your kids’? It’s so cool. I’m currently getting certified as a pediatric sleep specialist because that’s how interested I am in the topic. Yes, my enneagram 5 is showing.

• And one of my weekly(ish) highlights is learning dressage at my horseback riding lessons, which I’ve now been taking for a full year. Even though the progress seems slow at times, I can look back at where I was a year ago and see how much stronger my legs and core are, and how much better my seat has gotten. Many thanks to Pilot, Whiskey, K-Bar, and Halo for their patience with me. ;)

Thinking

• Is the risk of stifling God’s work in the world worth taking Paul’s admonitions about women in the church as changeless commandments for all times and all places? I’ve been reading a lot about what the New Testament teaches about the sexes (and how it aligns with the greater story of the Bible) and I’m starting to worry that we have, as it were, strained out a gnat only to swallow a camel. After all, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28)—until you are a woman who wants to teach the Bible, and then the most important (and disqualifying) factor about you is that you are female? I do understand the idea of “equal in value, separate in role,” but even so, we have enough history with “separate but equal” in this country to acknowledge that the philosophy does not actually lead to equality in a practical sense. Even if Paul was referring to all women for all time and in all places (debatable), does God care more that men should never hear the Word of God taught by a woman, or that women should be treated as equal image-bearers and Kingdom ambassadors by men? Are we capturing the spirit of the rule or only following its letter? Are we being Christlike or Pharisee-like?

• It’s a little unnerving, but also encouraging, to consider how I’ve grown as a believer over the past 10 years since I was first in Bible school. Unnerving, because so many of the black-and-white beliefs I held then have shifted or been shaded in with detail; this can make me feel like a heretic at times, until I remember that it’s not heresy to allow the Word of God to correct and reprove the errors in my thinking, even when those errors were taught from a pulpit. But it’s encouraging, too, because even when I’m afraid of being rejected by those who don’t agree with me, I have seen that God is still faithfully walking with me, sharpening me, and molding me into something a little bit more representative of His image. It’s He, not any particular denomination or theological camp, that I am required to follow.

daydreaming

I am not much of a daydreamer, but there is one particular fantasy that I occasionally catch glimpses of in my mind’s eye, and sometimes indulge for a minute or two. I see a little patio table and a couple of chairs tucked between the wild tangles of flowers that make up most of my front yard, comfortably shaded by the canopy of a still-smallish Japanese maple. In my vision, I’m sitting there with my Bible open or some other book in hand, watching a little-bit-older Clara play in the cul-de-sac, when a neighbor on an afternoon stroll stops by to say hello, and another from the next house down sets aside their yard work for a minute to join the conversation. Maybe we are talking about something important and maybe we’re not; maybe it leads to “Bring a lawn chair over and we’ll barbecue” and maybe it doesn’t, but either way, it’s a delicious nibble at that old-fashioned treat, community.

If I really let my imagination run wild, the daydream evolves into a back deck full of people holding Bibles and babies, talking about what we read that week in the Bible180 Challenge—a kind of book club for the Bible, less formal than a Bible study but centered entirely on the Word and the quest to understand it as a cohesive whole. The older kids are running wild in the yard and there’s a pan of dessert on the table, mostly eaten up. The group is peppered with people of every generation, from those wearing the “crown of glory” (see Proverbs 16:31) down to young parents, teenagers, children.

It’s a small and not-at-all-small dream. There are times, in our frantic technological age, when it feels more out of reach than the deepest recesses of Siberia.

I grew up in a place where houses were far apart but neighbors were knit close. Nobody had a board-fenced backyard. Stopping to chat in a driveway or on a porch step was a common day-to-day occurrence.

Moving to my current city was a culture shock I’m still absorbing eight years later: I could throw a rock and hit my neighbor’s house, but have barely interacted with any of them beyond a smile and nod from afar. Add to that being several hours’ drive removed from my entire family and teaching myself to get by on the counterfeit sense of belonging offered by watching old friends’ lives unfold hundreds of miles away on a screen, and it’s little wonder that in my daydreams, I see what a generation or two before me would have just called “normal life.”

My church is sending out missionaries, some to far-flung countries in desperate need of the Gospel. I’m excited for them and for how they will further the Kingdom. I’ve even had a few split-second doubts of “Wait, should I be doing that, too?” But I’m fairly certain I’m not the only one in this country who is in desperate need of the Gospel—and genuine, offline Gospel community.

When I was a kid growing up in Middle-of-Nowhere, Washington, nothing excited me more than the prospect of setting out to explore the unknown. I had few opportunities to travel back then, but I took every single one. And I still love to explore the world and to learn from other cultures—I’ve just found that the Unknown is not where I’m meant to live.

I’d like to be known again, I’d like to know others again, and I think my work is here.

So—who’s up for a Bible book club at my place? I’ll make dessert. ;)

About brotherly love: You don’t need me to write you because you yourselves are taught by God to love one another. In fact, you are doing this toward all the brothers and sisters in the entire region of Macedonia. But we encourage you, brothers and sisters, to do this even more, to seek to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you, so that you may behave properly in the presence of outsiders and not be dependent on anyone.

1 Thessalonians 4:9-12