The other night Evan was away while I put the boys to bed by myself. Bedtime is not my favorite time because getting everyone to bed in a timely manner takes a lot of time. I don’t usually read to my kids before bed because I’m lazy. But that night felt important. So I read the story of Moses delivering his people out of Egypt. I told my boys about God parting the Red Sea, and how He saved His people.
My four-year-old asked me some questions, and the conversation led to Jesus. Liam wanted to talk about how Jesus died on the cross and came back to life. He talked about it with no doubt in his voice. He believed it because I told him it was true.
In a couple of months I’ll be turning 26. It feels pivotal, a moment where I realize getting older is a real thing, not just something that happens to adults. I’m the adult now (not that I have doubted that recently), but now it feels wholly more important to know what is true, to live with eyes fixed ever on God, and to acknowledge that I am not invincible.
I’m also living at a time where women have the ability to challenge any adversities they feel. A woman is running for president this year, something that was unheard of for decades. Women are rising to positions of power. Women are embracing fully that they are not a lesser sex.
It is a great thing, to be a woman. It is a great thing to rise to occasion and fulfill a role that we feel called to. It is glorious to know who we are, to celebrate independence, to be strong and confident. It is good.
But it isn’t quite for me. That isn’t to say being confident, strong, sure of myself, or independent isn’t for me. It’s that I don’t want that to be all there is to me. I don’t want my accomplishments to be what is left of my name. I don’t want to be the woman that stood in power just because I earned my right to be there. I don’t want to walk in confident strides just because I know I’m a woman who can be and do anything.
Thousands of years ago, God took a sea and parted it in half, leaving a dry valley for a people to walk through. He delivered His people in a way that was out of this world; He delivered on His promise to take care of the people He called His own. I love that story. I love that history. When it feels like my problems are huge, I remember: the God who literally parted a sea is my God. He is my Savior. He is my redeemer. He loves me. He has a multitude of grace for me.
I want to be confident. Strong. Independent. I want to do things that make waves in the world. I want my stride to leave confidence in my wake.
But not because of me. Not because of the way I walk. Not because of what I can do, who I think I am, what I think I’m capable of. I do all of this because I am loved by God. I do these things because He lives in me, sets a fire in my bones, makes way a path for me, gives me peace, leads me by still waters, anchors me when storms rage, redeems me when I fall short of grace. I am a woman. But I am His. First, foremost, always. Let His Name overpower and surpass my own. Let His fame be seen whenever I am gone.
Seas are capable of parting because my God is my fortress. Anything is possible because God is able
I’m pointing to Him. Anything that comes from me, all because of Him. Confidence and strength because His promises never fail.