Rise Up! It’s Coronation Day!

I sat on the blue printed picnic blanket in the tree lined park, leaves rimmed golden with Autumn’s breath dancing along with the children giggling and running around me. I laughed at the text message in my hand…my friends were deciding what to wear to my upcoming ordination.  They had joyfully renamed it my coronation after one had mistakenly interchanged the two words in an earlier conversation.  Somehow tiaras seemed an appropriate accessory.

Dear Little Girl,

I see you as, wide-eyed, you watch the men file into the funeral, dressed in their finest. I hear you ask the question from your Cheerio-encrusted car seat: “Mama, why are the men so important in the church?”

Know that my heart jumps in my chest and I suck in my breath: because people spoke prophecy over you while you were still in the womb, assuming you were a boy. Because I have heard your bedtime prayers from the doorway as you prayed down heaven for the sick or your family members. Because I have watched your face as we have prayed over you, and later heard your vivid recollections of dancing with Jesus while you sleep. Because I have watched you baptize your siblings in the Playschool water table. Because I have watched you sing on the worship team.

And, I will admit it, my heart wonders and fears: what if you are called to ministry?  No, I didn’t say called to marry a Pastor…

If the world tells our daughters they can be anything, but the church says there’s a limit on what they have been created for, they will go out into the world, leaving the church doors slamming behind them.

Dear Young Woman,

I see you as you worship, hands extended, heart alive, so aware of His presence in your life; so filled with love and awe and ambition to serve His purposes and take His message to the world. I know you are longing to baptize, to serve communion, to wed and to bury:  to serve as a bridge to Jesus in these defining life moments. I see your discontent and longing – or are they the same thing? – to sit around the table at a different level, in a different capacity. I also see that invisible ceiling, that sticky floor. I know you don’t, but I do.

Will you say it today? “I need to be licensed”. Will you whisper it today? “I need to be ordained.”

If I can’t do it for myself, if I’m uncomfortable waving my own hand, if I’m hoping someone will ask me, or grant me permission, perhaps I can do it for my daughter, for my friend, for you?

Dear Woman of God,

I see your leadership. Deborah, telling scared Barak, “Get up! It’s time, I’ll go with you.” Jael killing the enemy while he hides in her tent. Esther, standing alone on her own two feet, approaching the King. Rahab risking her life and choosing a new path. Priscilla spreading the Gospel. Tabitha, a disciple, and Lydia, a businesswoman financing Paul’s ministry. I see the woman worshipping with her alabaster box, and the woman with the issue of blood,  both desperate for an encounter with Jesus.

THIS is your heritage.

Judges 5:7-9 The villages ceased in Israel; they ceased to be until I arose; I, Deborah, arose as a mother in Israel.

Dear Aging Woman,

Do you see me?

As I sneak into old churches on back country roads:  breathing in the spicy rich scent of the spirit lingering in the pews, glorying in the way the light filters through the stained-glass windows. The ceiling beams, the woodwork and squeaking floors, are all wrapped gently in that special kind of quiet.  

You will find me, hungering, longing, at the podium devouring an ancient Hebrew text called Judith. Judith, who fastened her hair with a tiara and boldly stepped into her leadership.

The sanctuary was full on that September Ordination evening. The energy in the room was palpable; so many hearts gathered before me, supporting me, holding me up, wrapping their love around me. I wondered if they could even know how very nervous I was as I processed all that was unspoken, in that evening for me. It was warm and somber, weighty and exuberant.

Later, as we laughed and celebrated together, I joked with my friends: “Where were your tiaras?” Sheepishly, one after the other, they reached into their purses and quietly pulled them out. “We didn’t want to be inappropriate…”  And my heart filled.  With joy.  With love.  With reverence for these beautiful women and all they carry in their purses: so much more than a simple tiara.

Yes, women carry so much in their purses. And they will find a way to use just about everything they have. But how often do they wonder if their tiaras are inappropriate?

Oh, Child of the King, it’s not inappropriate: it’s Coronation Day! Wake up! Shake off your sorrow, your fear, your insecurity!  Pray for God’s guidance.  Pursue Christ wholeheartedly.  Reach into your purses, pull out your tiaras and fasten them in your hair.  Show our women AND our men what it looks like when God uses women in His Kingdom! Answer your call: we need your leadership.

Rise up, it’s Coronation Day. Rise up and step into your calling. It’s time. I’ll come with you.

“I can only imagine what it would have been like as a young woman growing up in the church to regularly hear how God uses women in His Kingdom.”- Kadi Cole