“Because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus . . . we do not lose heart. Even though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day. For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.” (2 Cor. 4:14, 16–18, NRSV)
You wait in the shadows,
skulking, they call it,
but experience knows where to hide,
and Lord knows you are patient.
Scathing glances and pitying looks
a stone’s throw away
as they fill their jars and troughs,
with laughter and gossip.
Sometimes a boy stares
a little too long, or a girl points.
You come later in the heat
when you can manage it.
The man doesn’t flinch,
doesn’t arch his back,
does not want anything
—save a drink of water.
Editor's Note: This is a Top 15 CBE Writing Contest winner. Enjoy!
I was a teenager when I first heard my male pastor preach about the woman “subject to bleeding,” as she is often called by various Bible translations. Her story wasn’t new to me, but I still remember my face growing hot and how I shifted nervously on the pew when my pastor announced that this woman had her period—he euphemistically called it her “womanly issues.” It was a sudden revelation to me to realize this story I had heard several times before was speaking about the unmentionable Aunt Flo.
March is Women’s History Month, which means it’s time for my fellow history nerds to get excited about some of our favorite women of the past. One of my (many) favorites is Hild (or Hilda) of Whitby, an abbess in seventh-century England whose reputation for wisdom and piety still shines through the centuries.
Young Thecla sat in her dark jail cell with rats as her only company. She was startled when the jailer suddenly appeared with his burning torch and fumbled with the keys that hung from his belt. He unlocked her cell door and led her down several corridors with large cages containing lions, bulls, and other fearsome animals, which would eventually be released to kill their victims in the arena. When they finally turned the corner and arrived at the last passageway, the woman could see a bright light shining ahead.
Editor’s Note: Trigger Warning. Descriptions of domestic violence appear in this article.
As we begin Women’s History Month this year, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that 90 percent of the books most men read are written by male authors.
Who am I? What is my life’s purpose? Where is my community? How do I find them? These questions filled my prayers, my conscious thoughts, and my seeking spirit throughout my twenties. In answering these questions, an attentiveness to my spirit as it quickened around people and ideas proved a faithful guide.
You are doing
what we could not do
because we did
what we could.