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A story about (in)visibility

Women: you are not unseen, unheard, or invisible! Ever!

Do you ever feel as though you (and other women) are unseen, unheard, invisible? As though your story doesn’t have all that much signi cance in the larger scheme of things?

Don’t believe it! Nothing could be further from the truth!

Your story is more than signi cant, more than profound, and more than critical to the larger, gorgeous, amazing drama that’s being woven and written around you. And your place, your voice, your role, your heart is right in the middle of it! I promise!

Want an example?

Not surprisingly, I’ve got one.

There is an ancient, sacred story told of a nameless woman. We know nothing about her other than what we can deduce: she was a daughter, a wife, and a mother. These alone, in my opinion, are more than enough to give her stature, merit, and value. Sparse details hardly limit the depth or scope of her significance. She lived a story that couldn’t help but change the world. Just like yours.

After Adam and Eve left the Garden they had two sons – Cain and Abel; later, a third. One day, in a fit of jealous rage, Cain killed his younger brother. (Makes eating that fruit seem relatively mild, doesn’t it?) His punishment was to wander the earth – a nomad, no home, no family. In fear for his ability to survive, he pleaded with the Divine to protect him; to somehow keep him from being killed by those who would seek his death. And so he was given a distinguishing mark that would forever protect him. And of course, this is where we get the phrase, “the mark of Cain.”

Later in the text we read that Cain settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden. Then this, Cain made love to his wife, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Enoch. (Genesis 4:17)

That’s it. Her only mention.

Now some would say such is not even worth the bother – for a blog post or a book chapter, let alone an attempt to offer some level of meaning to those who feel their stories are small, inconsequential, almost nonexistent.

Don’t believe it! Nothing could be further from the truth!

“…there are stories we will never find, no matter how many times we search the sacred texts. I think it was Marcia Falk who wrote, ‘What we cannot remember, we must imagine.’ And so we read between the lines, listening beneath the layers of suppression and neglect to hear the chorus of voices where we were told there was only silence.” ~ Jan Richardson, In Wisdom’s Path

In between the lines and listening between the layers. Expecting to hear a heartbeat of significance, meaning, and worth.

Imagining what we deeply, intuitively, and already/always know to be true: women’s stories matter. Just like yours.

Whether myth or historical fact matters not. Her story is true. Cain’s wife sings out the continuation of countless generations: hundreds of thousands of women who are unnamed but no less real; without position, but no less powerful; barely spoken of, but hardly silent; harmed, but deserving of healing, wholeness, and strength. Cain’s wife symbolizes every single page of life and death, hope and despair, triumph and tragedy that is being written, even if seemingly unseen and unheard. Cain’s wife signifies that women endure, period. Just like you.

And if this weren’t enough (though I believe it is), Cain’s wife is the first woman mentioned outside the Garden. Eve’s daughter-in-law. The wife of a marked-man. The bearer of Adam and Eve’s grandson. A mother who heard her husband’s stories and told them to her son. One who enabled generations to follow.

She lived a significant story. She is a significant woman. Just like you. Just like all women.

So if there are days or even seasons in which you feel as though your story is not worth mentioning, barely seen, a whisper that’s hardly heard in a noisy world, take heart! Cain’s wife stands alongside you in solidarity and strength. She reminds you that every story matters and that every woman’s ability to nurture, labor, grieve, laugh, cry, persevere, live, love, and bring forth life in any and every form is what enables the far larger story to even exist, let alone be told, endure, and thrive.

You are part of a legacy of a women who endure, who make a difference, who matter.

To ever think, let alone believe anything less is a lie. Cain’s wife calls you, me, all of us back to the truth. Hear her voice:

I see you. I hear you. I know your name. I love your story. You matter. You endure. You live. This alone is more than enough. You are more than enough. Take heart: you are my daughter, my lineage, my kin.

3 Verses and a Refrain

Verse #1: There is good news.

Nothing about you is broken. Nothing about you is wrong. Nothing about you needs fixing or undoing or redoing. Nothing about you requires that you look over your shoulder, wonder how someone else feels, or worry what others will say. Nothing about what you long for, want, or desire is bad.

Verse #2: There is more good news (or, Verse #1 stated in reverse).

You are whole. You are right. You are together and strong and ready. You can look forward, pay attention to the head on your own shoulders and the heart between. You can state your truth no matter what. Everything you long for, want, and desire is good.

Verse #3: Since Verses 1 and 2 are true, then this is, as well:

Risk boldly. Reach beyond. Drink deep. Step up. Speak out. Press on. Lean in. Dare greatly. Love deeply. Sing loudly. Dance wildly. Express passion. Create with abandon. Leave things behind. Explore new territory. You’re not alone. Expect the sacred. Hold nothing back. Nothing and no one can stop you.

The Refrain: May it be so.

*****

I wrote this post back in 2014. It’s just as applicable now, yes? At least it is for me!!)

4 Takeaways that Matter

I spend countless hours in the midst of the ancient, sacred stories of women – wanting and wondering how to tell them, believing they matter, oft’ overwhelmed, admittedly, by the sneaky voice that tells me my readers won’t “get” their significance, their beauty, their relevance, their wisdom.

Regardless of the voice, my heart cannot let that happen. And so I press on.

We need these stories. We need these women. Why? Because we need muses, mentors, companions, even, midwives who call us forth and birth us into the lives that are ours to claim, to live, to love.

This is what these stories do. This is what these women do – over and over and over again.

The more value and worth we give to any woman’s story, the more value and worth we give to our own. And that, it seems to me, is worth any effort, any risk, decrying any voices within or without. (For me AND for you.)

So, all that said, here’s one of those stories (along with 4 takeaways that matter):

*****

Once upon a time there were two midwives who worked for a king. In an attempt to control the population of his slaves (who he feared would one day become his enemies), he told the midwives to kill every boy-child they birthed. They didn’t like this idea and so, chose to do nothing of the kind. Not soon after, the king called them on the carpet, demanding to know why they had not obeyed him. They said, “The Hebrew women are much too strong and fast! They have the child before we can even get there!” The ancient text tells us they did this because they respected and honored the Hebrew God (of whom they would have known little-to-nothing) more than they feared the king. And because of this, that same God blessed them with children of their own.

I can see a gazillion take-away’s from this story, but here are just four…for now:

  1. Do what you can’t not do – even before you feel ready. You are.
  2. Neither the voices within, nor those of “power” without have the final say. You do.
  3. Trust that life is yours to bring forth on your own and others’ behalf, no matter the risk. It is.
  4. Stand alongside other women – always and in all things. It matters.

The midwives (and countless others) stand alongside you…and me. And that’s the takeaway that matters most.

What I need you to remember:

We are desperate to see ourselves in powerful and empowering ways. It’s no wonder: we have too-often and for too long been deprived of stories that remind us who we truly are. We are ravenously hungry for those stories, for the stories of women in our lineage, our line.

Take heart! Though we live in a world that has based its predominant understanding of women on the (poorly told) story of Eve, there is another one, almost the very last story of a woman in the very same text, who once heard, makes all the difference, who does remind us of who we truly are – over and over and over again.

A while back, I made a video about her, the Woman of Revelation 12. And I’ve spent time writing more about her. Including this:

Remember who you are. Remember who you are. Remember who you are, she says.

Anything, anyone, all that has made you feel less than, even remotely disconnected from the truth that you reflect entire galaxies, that you are a veritable constellation of beauty and strength, has not really seen you and somehow, in such, you have forgotten. This breaks my heart.

Remember who you are. Put on your gown of sunlight. Step into your silver-as-the-moon stilettos. Place your crown that’s laden with glistening stars upon your head. And glow, glide, blaze through your world. Shine light in the darkest of places. Bring warmth to the coldest of nights. Sparkle brightly in the dingiest and dirtiest of places. And in your own darkness, cold, and less-than-desirable places? Turn within, turn within, turn within.

Remember who you are. Remember who you are. Remember who you are.

This is all you need to know, all you need to recall, all that ever matters.

If you will remember who you truly are, all the unnecessary and less-than-worthy things that have taken up space and energy and time in your life will fall away. If you will walk through your world today and all days embraced by the celestial light that is yours, you will not falter.

If you will remember me, the Woman of Revelation 12, you will, without question, be able to step into who you are, take your throne, and don your royal robes. And then, oh, then…you will be able to be you, be you, be you. The you you’ve always been – though sometimes disguised and distracted.  The you you’ve forgotten. The you the world has been waiting for. The you you have been waiting for. The you I have always remembered and will never forget.

Remember who you are. Remember who you are. Remember who you are. Rise up. Shine. Beam. And then some.

*******

Have I repeated it too much? Can I possibly express it enough? It’s all I want to say.

Even more true, it’s all I want to hear. It’s what I need to hear. It’s who I want to be. More than anything. And it’s what I want for you…more than anything.

Remember who are. Remember who you are. Remember who you are.

Do the Next Thing

I don’t know about you, but when I read or hear the stories of amazing women (which is ALL the time), I have the tendency to compare myself to them. And that never goes well.

I convince myself that I will not be one about whom amazing stories are told. Because I’m not her. I’m just me.

Every bit of this is totally wrong.

Here’s a story to prove my point:

Queen Esther. Ostensibly sex-trafficked as a young girl, she is corralled into the king’s palace, lives with the eunuchs, and is then trained for a full year to be able and ready to please the king (sexually, of course) if called. She lives as a potential consort right alongside all the other girls of her town and every surrounding town, right alongside all the king’s previous and current wives. And under the dark cloud of awareness that the last queen, who dared to say “no” to this same king, was deposed and discarded.

In the midst of all this, she becomes the chosen one, is named the king’s favorite, is heralded as Queen, and then uncovers a massive plot to destroy her entire people – the Jews. She manages to merit the king’s favor, trick the villain (not the king), usurp his wicked plans, and save thousands of people from genocide. And now, thousands of years later, she is still honored, her amazing story still told, still celebrated through the Feast of Purim, a festival within the Jewish tradition that honors the redemption she ushered into the world.

Who am I to think that my story could possibly be anything like hers?

And in truth, isn’t it just pouring salt on a wound to hear it in the first place and then be left feeling like there is SO MUCH to live up to? It’s impossible. I don’t begin to compare. Why bother even trying?

Again, every bit of this is totally wrong.

Here’s why.

Esther lived her life one day at a time. She faced the (often horrific) circumstances of her life in the best way she could in the moment. She took in distressing news and then acted as best she knew how in the moment. She risked but not always. She spoke up but not always. She stepped forward but not always. And when all was said and done – over years of time (not days, as the story so often sounds) – she became legend.

She could not possibly have seen the huge and sweeping plot that was taking place around her. She could not have seen the bigger narrative of which her seemingly-small life was a part. And she could not have seen how significant her life and story truly were.

Take heart, dear one; the same is true for you (and me).

Here is all that’s required:

  • Do the next thing.
  • Face your circumstances in the best way you can in the moment.
  • Take in distressing and dangerous news, then act in the moment.
  • Risk and speak up and step forward as often as you can, even if not always.

And consider this:

Maybe, definitely, it is best that you can’t see just how and important and significant your life truly is.

Just like Queen Esther. (Yes, you: just like her. Amazing!)

The most famous and well-known portion of her story is what her uncle Mordecai says when she expresses her fear: 

Don’t think for a moment that because you’re in the palace you will escape when all other Jews are killed. If you keep quiet at a time like this, deliverance and relief for the Jews will arise from some other place, but you and your relatives will die. Who knows if perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this?

Yes, hugely significant and dramatic. I’ll give you (and her) that. But here is what matters:

“For such a time as this” meant (and still means) one moment at a time, one conversation at a time, one choice at a time, one risk at a time, one day at a time.

Nothing more. And certainly nothing less.

Yes, be the queen. I’m all about that. Kick ass and take names and speak up and be bold. And know that the things that seem minor and insignificant and seemingly just the opposite of the amazing stories you read and hear are the stuff of “for such a time as this,” are the stuff of legend. Paying the bills and having yet another conversation with your kids and telling your spouse or lover how you really feel and not pouring another glass of wine and not allowing fear to distract you from the writing that calls, or telling the truth, and all of the above and then some.

These are the details of your life – which matters, which makes a difference, and, when all is said and done, is legendary.

Because you are. You just don’t know it yet.

May it be so.

I’m right about this…

Chances are pretty high that if your desire is strong enough, acute enough, and impossible to dissuade, others will think you a bit crazy and probably way too much.

That’s the strongest indication that you’re on the right track.

Chances are pretty high that even if you get what you most desire, that more loss will yet come, that heartbreak will still occur, and that you will somehow yet endure.

That’s the strongest indication that you are amazing, strong, and more than enough.

Chances are pretty high that holding on to hope and letting go of control seem like complete contradictions and that you have the capacity to allow them both.

That’s the strongest indication that you are other-worldly and powerful beyond-compare.

Chances are pretty high that you will be called to stand your ground and defend that which you know-that-you-know-that-you-know is right and true and worthy.

That’s the strongest indication that you are oh-so-wise and most-definitely not to be triffled with.

Chances are pretty high that you need not listen to one voice / person / god / demon / cultural message / internal hiss that tells you anything other. And when you don’t?

That’s the strongest indication that you are listening to that know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within; you believe you are worth being heard.

Chances are pretty high that I’m right about all of this. Not because I’m so amazing, but because you are.

No additional indication needed.

May it be so.