Wives, Let’s Go Ahead and Submit

It’s weird for me to think that this time, six years ago, I was a young 19 yr old who had a pretty firm idea of what I wanted my life to look like. I was moving towards my dream of being a full-time missionary, hopefully overseas one day, and my dream did not include a husband, let alone children. Yet the Lord had already begun the softening process in my heart towards the beautiful covenant of marriage.

In the spring of 2013, before I met Joe, I traveled to India. I had a couple books to read on the many flights as my team and I traveled across that amazing country. On the flight from Dubai to New Delhi, I took out “The Apocalypse of Ahmadinejad: the Revelation of Iran’s Nuclear Prophet” by Mark Hitchcock. Looking around me, I saw mostly middle eastern, Muslim men and decided that I should probably read something else. So, I started a book I had put off reading ever since my mom had given it to me almost a year before.

“Let Me Be a Woman”, written by Elisabeth Elliot, always triggered an immediate eye roll from me. One, it had a soft pink cover with the image of a woman’s head with perfectly styled hair. I hate pink. Two, I was a self proclaimed tomboy who prided myself on my independent spirit and zero desire for marriage or a family. A book about biblical femininity, composed of letters written by a mom addressed to her recently engaged daughter, held zero appeal (obviously, since I would rather read a book about an Iranian dictator).

I read the entire book in that flight, and the Lord used Elisabeth Elliot’s words to reveal to my silly soul the TRUTH regarding femininity and marriage – the beginning of a complete transformation that changed the course of my life.

It is a naive sort of feminism that insists that women prove their ability to do all the things that men do. This is a distortion and a travesty. Men have never sought to prove that they can do all the things women do. Why subject women to purely masculine criteria? Women can and ought to be judged by the criteria of femininity, for it is in their femininity that they participate in the human race. And femininity has its limitations. So has masculinity.

Elisabeth Elliot, Let Me Be a Woman

I spent most of my teen years proving that I could do all the things my brother and his friends could do. I remember at his 13th birthday party, I arm wrestled his friends and made one of them cry because I wanted to prove a girl was stronger. When I went salmon fishing, I stayed out in the freezing river until I got hypothermia to prove that I was tough enough and didn’t need a break. When my period started, I was so frustrated and angry. I didn’t see the gift of fertility as a blessing, I saw it as a limitation – how unfair that only girls had to deal with all that every.single.month.!

With that attitude firmly entrenched in my heart, the quote above rocked my world. The feminist movement has spent so much effort trying to make way for women to become like men. What a boost to the male ego! You don’t see men attempting to take over roles that women are best equipped for. I think this problem dates back to the fall, ladies.

…your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you.

Genesis 3:16b

I read in a commentary something that stuck – when the Bible says Eve’s desire will be for her husband, it means her desire shall be for her husband’s position, yet she is to remain under his authority. That longing to step in to a role that isn’t ours has plagued women throughout the ages. Have you seen it in your own marriages? The desire to take the matters into your own hands and jump the gun when it feels like your husband is taking forever to make a decision, or when it seems like his leadership skills are inferior to yours?

On June 14th, 2015, I stood before about 150 people and pledged myself to love, serve, honor and obey Joe Brown. The Lord had accomplished a remarkable work in my heart since the spring of 2013. I was now in awe of the beauty and holiness of the marriage covenant, and eager and excited to step in to my role of wife and, one day, mother. But that desire for my husband’s role gradually crept in and things came to a head about a year in to our marriage.

Joe and I had moved into the house he grew up in. It was packed full of his family’s possessions, which made it very difficult to make our own. I longed for a new place to live, somewhere we could start from scratch and I could decorate and design and make into a home unique to us. I pestered and nagged my husband for weeks. I would spend hours looking at available rentals around town, printing out the ones I liked and placing them where I knew my husband would see them. I couldn’t understand why it was taking him soooooo long to reach the same conclusion as I – that it would be best to find a new place to live, ASAP. I was annoyed that I couldn’t just take matters into my own hands and move forward with my plan.

Finally, after about a month or two of me pressuring him, Joe had enough. He came home from work and I immediately greeted him with the latest rentals I was interested in, and he pushed them away and said he had had enough. I remember my heart pounding as I realized I had a choice to make – either submit to my husband or fight with all my might for my way. I looked at all the saved tabs on our laptop, available places that I wanted to move to, and then I looked at the house we currently were living in. I was so convinced that this place was what was in the way of my happiness and contentment. But I knew that God had given my husband the leadership and to skirt Joe’s authority and push for my way would be to undermine the authority of God Himself.

I cried. Many hot and angry tears. But by God’s grace I submitted and told my husband I wouldn’t bring the matter up again, and I kept my word. It hurt, for sure, but I’m so thankful for that experience! Submission stings, but it brings peace and freedom because you are walking in obedience to the Lord. My disobedient desire to usurp my husband’s role was the real obstacle to my happiness and contentment, because it was coming between my relationship with the Lord.

Freedom begins way back. It begins not with doing what you want but with doing what you ought – that is, with discipline.

Elisabeth Elliot

As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance.

1 Peter 1:14

He who has My commandments and keeps them, it is he who loves Me. And he who loves Me will be loved by My Father, and I will love him and manifest Myself to him.

John 14:21 (words of Jesus)

What a gift we can give to our families – submission to God through living in contentment and peace in the role God has given us, without coveting the role given to our spouse. It is a beautiful example of Christ and the Church – the model marriage is intended to reflect.

You can’t talk about the idea of equality and the idea of self-giving in the same breath. You can talk about partnership, but it is the partnership of the dance. If two people agree to dance together, they agree to give and take, one to lead and one to follow. This is what dance is. Insistence that both lead means there won’t be any dance.

It is the woman’s delighted yielding to the man’s lead that gives him freedom. It is the man’s willingness to take the lead that gives her freedom. Acceptance of their respective positions frees them both and whirls them into joy.

Elisabeth Elliot, Let Me Be a Woman

Originally written and shared by Natalya Brown. Used with permission.

Loving Another Child & His Mama

His mama drops him off bright and early. Sometimes he’s wearing a smile, sometimes he’s got his I’m-not-sure-yet face on. He surveys the area, sees his two friends, and starts to get comfortable. Soon they’re all bouncing around, throwing the frisbee and playing with the dogs.

We all hang out regularly. My mind always wanders. He’s safe, I’m pretty sure, and his mama tries hard. I don’t know her well at all, but I’d like to. She loves horses and is in a tricky spot. That’s about all I know. (And even if I knew more, ya’ll know it wouldn’t be coming on social media.)

What are her hopes? What are her dreams? What does she see in this life?

Her little boy sits with us at the table and shares snacks. All three boys climb up to watch the mac n cheese cook, in denial that the process could take more than 30 seconds. I watch dirty hands grab their cups, the eyes glancing at each other and the giggling amplifying in the kitchen. I am so grateful he joins in the laughter and is comfortable - it took some time to get here.

We play, break for lunch and a nap, then resume. They blow bubbles and scoop woodchips and race cars in circles around the house. The meltdowns come and go.

When she’s done with work she picks him up and I wish we had more time. More time to chat, time for her to relax a little. Sometimes I wish she could spend an evening having dinner with us, so she could see her boy in this environment. Maybe she'd see that Jesus can give so much joy to a household, even in the rough times. I wish I could get to know her, we might be friends.

But for now, I’ll just keep loving her little boy whenever I have the chance.

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For all you mamas taking care of someone else’s baby/babies, keep on keeping on. Whether you know their family well or not, whether they come from stability or instability - your love in the time you have matters. The kiddos know it! Love them like you love your own. And love their parents as well. ❤️

Written by Amy Parsons

When Daddies Pray

This weekend, we traveled with a truck bed full of a little girl’s best memories: paintings, blankets, trinkets, and yes. Even a stuffed animal or two. We are taking our girl to college.

She’s our oldest, so it’s as raw as it can possibly get. However, I don’t know how this will ever feel like an old hat-it will always hurt with each of our babies, and next it’s our Irish twins. Two at once.

We’ve sat through parent sessions and scoped out where to find sushi. We’ve trained her up, so she discovered where to get the best coffee. We hung lights and assembled a swivel chair.

We even helped navigate the awkward roommate meet - cute when we were in the middle of unpacking, and the roomy’s family descended into that tiny room. We did what most people do. We said our friendly introductions and then pretended they weren’t there while we unpacked our kid’s underwear. It’s a learning curve for all of us.

We are each processing. At different times and different ways. We take turns being quiet for longer than usual. I’ve noticed we’ve each hung back at different times, and I assume they are doing the same thing I did. Wiping tears that appear out of nowhere when struck with the thought that this is real. Our baby girl is grown.

Last night there was a dedication service. She’s attending a Christian college, so worship. Then teaching. Then prayer.

Which translates to tear. Tear. And sobbing. They asked us to pray a blessing over our kids. We grouped as families, so it was just the three of us.

So many thoughts ran through my mind. I was taken back to the time it was always just us three musketeers. The years between her and her younger brother when we tried so hard to have another baby. We lost two in that span of time. I remember praying with all my heart to be content to remain just the three of us. God saw us through.

I also couldn’t stop running through all the things I still have to teach her! Like a ticker tape at the bottom of the news screen. I’m not ready! There’s still so much to say.

So, I prayed and thanked God for trusting us with this girl and was mostly a jumble and mess of thoughts and hopes and regrets and wishes.

But then her daddy prayed and said all the things that little girl and I needed to hear. What we had been trying to say, but couldn’t quite place the words.

To the men here. You need to know something. God has called you to lead your family. You are called to lead in love and prayer and to seek God for every answer. We depend on you.

From the beginning of man, God has placed you before us. There’s a reason your shoulders are broad and your physical strength is great. There’s a reason you don’t cry quite as easily. You are called to lead us.

The family dynamic has long been skewed. We could probably trace it all the way to that minute when Eve took that apple and Adam blamed her that he ate it. But this doesn’t need to dictate us now.

Daddies. Pray. Pray for your wives. Your daughters. Your sons. Pray for your legacy! Your words move mountains. Your example creates a ripple effect of boys who became godly men. Your prayers fill in the insecurities the enemy attempts to place in your daughters and they remind those girls of their worth.

So much has transpired over the past couple days to bring me comfort and hope. To instill confidence that our girl is going to be amazing in this place. That she was in fact created for such a time as this.

But when her daddy prayed, she knew it too.

Written by Shontell Brewer: wife, mama, and author of Missionary Mom.

If These Stairs Could Talk

If these stairs could talk, they’d tell you of many things.

The friends and family who visited when we first moved in, sharing in thanks for more space.

The weight carried up and down, things moved from one place to another.

The tears cried on them, many from the kids and many from myself.

The coffee spilled on them, hurriedly wiped up so the white wouldn’t be stained.

The babies carried up to bed, or snuggled in close and brought downstairs to try again.

The moments I’ve sat in the middle, waiting for quiet to come over the bedrooms.

The moments I’ve sat on the bottom, weary, waiting, resting.

The guests running up to use the bathroom, or grab their sneaky babies.

The kids’ friends scampering up and down to play together.

The toys thrown down, the balls thrown up and down and up again.

The times I’ve sat and listened to videos or read texts from dear friends.

The one stair at just the right height to let me sit and watch cars come down our street.

They’re not an idol, these stairs: they’re a reminder.

A means of giving thanks.

Because when I look back at all the memories and daily happenings, I am reminded:

• God provides: for all our needs, all the time

• Our babies are safe and loved

• Our friends and family are welcome and comfortable here

• We live this life fully

We always have enough. We always can extend more, and when we serve out of humility and love for our Lord it never comes back empty. He fills us up. He shows Himself to us and He teaches us what we need to know, when we need to know it. He is so incredibly sufficient!

If these stairs could talk, I think they’d tell of what a great Savior we have. What a hope we have in Him, what care we have from Him.

What a sweet, sweet place to be.