In Other Words: Women’s Connection

“We are women, and my plea is Let me be a woman, holy through and through, asking for nothing but what God wants to give me, receiving with both hands and with all my heart whatever that is.” ~~ Elisabeth Elliot

I read the quote and thought of her. I pictured her head bend over the kitchen counter, the one in the corner near the sink and the dining room door. The window is on the left of this makeshift desk and in my mind’s eye she can see the pre-dawn sky. She’s reading the Bible and other books, perhaps even one from the stack she received about Elisabeth Elliot from her dear friend. She’s penning lists and revelation into a bound journal. She’s pleading for God to fill her up, pour into her so her self that she’s listing right now in the early morning fades. She longs for holy and searches for it to cling to daily.

I always smile when I picture her like this because here I sit scrunched over my laptop on the deep freezer top longing for the same but knowing it’ll come differently.

I don’t even own a journal rightly. I have scraps of paper with thoughts and phrases, mine and others, scrawled in pencil, in pen, sometimes a blue crayon that’s handy. Sometimes the words are written on my hand. I think my husband, who cleaned up and out, found these thought remnants laying around and simply shook his head. He dislikes mess and when I spill, I make mess.

Our hearts are made of the same stuff though. Hers and mine and other women I know. Our hearts wait while our other muscles get things done. Our brains mark time by lists crossed off and all together long for deeper and wider and more.

And when women cry we think this. We think “Let me be a woman.” Because deep down we know that we with help will gather up the pieces and put them together better and brighter than dreamed. That’s what we women do.

We take what is given, whether it’s a time to be somewhere wearing matching clothes, cookies and snacks to bring tomorrow morning to school, a pile of dirty clothes, a skinned up knee, a comment that shines brightly on our skin, cupcakes shared with friends and swings on a fall day with all of the family.

And I believe these are the things that God gives us. All of it.

I know the receipt should be with open hands and open heart consistently. I pray that this remembering is enough on those days when I am clenched tight and barely breathing.

Sitting here, I wonder if this is what she seeks too. This solid bravery of open hand for whatever it is.

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Written in community with In Other Words. Please visit Nina to find other’s take on this quote and join in if you’re willing.

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