I don’t know exactly who you are. Maybe a young woman, just now stepping out into your life. Maybe a mother or a crone, entering a new phase of your authority. Maybe just my beautiful dominant four-year-old, who is ready right now to start setting the world to rights.
But I know something. I know this. You are called.
You are called to stand up, speak up, use your voice. You are called to the front of the room. You are named. And you are called.
Rise up.
The darkness does not want you to use your voice. You are so full of light. The darkness will tell you that you are too much.
Too loud.
Too greedy.
Too masculine.
Too angry.
Too emotional.
Sometimes you will believe this. Sometimes you will try to make yourself small, and quiet. Sometimes you will hurt yourself trying to be small and quiet.
Do this with me. Walk outside and look up to the sky. Reach your hands up to the wide, expansive sky, far above the crowdedness and the jostling. There is room for you up there. There is room for every bit of you up there.
That place is yours.
There is enough space for all of you. I swear there is, I promise. Even for all your noise, opinions, intelligence, even for the pure size of your frame. Even for your passion and force of will and love of justice.
This fight, to claim your right to be, is on the inside. But when you are a woman who leads, the world will try to tell you otherwise.
Oh, sweet girl…I could wish for you an easier path than this.
You will not often be the pretty one. Pretty is one part what you actually look like and two parts not being a threat. Learn to wear your beauty like a lion, or a tall tree. Learn to wear boots, and jackets. Learn to wear whatever you want.
You will not always know what you are doing. You will lead in the dark, with your eyes closed. Sometimes your mistakes will cause harm, and that will make you question your calling. Don’t. Don’t question the calling. Question your skill. Get better. Work harder. Learn to do your work well.
You will have trouble with friends. Sometimes this will be your fault. You will practice power instead of leadership. This is a trick of the darkness. You will have to learn to trust without controlling.
Sometimes it will not be your fault. A strong woman will be threatened by you. A weaker woman will betray you. Someone that you care about will tell you that you are being selfish. This will hurt like hell, and there is not a darn thing that I can do about it.
Baby, I am so sorry.
But it will help you to understand this, and this is maybe the most important thing of all. There is no woman in the world – I don’t care how brave, how beautiful, how wildly fortunate, or how questionable her values – There is no woman in the world who needs you to cut her down.
Please, lean in to other women. We have heard that we women aren’t very nice to each other, that it is our nature to cut and compete. If so, it is only from living in too-small boxes, and competing for too-small parcels of air. It doesn’t have to be that way. Make it not that way.
It will happen, too, that a man is at your side to help you. Look for that. He might be there when you are just about to lose control of the wheel and you are also trying to hold a crying baby. Listen to me, now, this is important.
It is okay to ask the man to hold the baby.
Listen to this, too. You may find that someday you need to leave your babies in someone else’s arms. Probably this will hurt you. But beyond the hurting there is a darkness, too, that tells you this is wrong. It tells you that you should feel ashamed. Resist it. Don’t let that darkness drown out your call. Like the Buddha, turn your hand to the earth. They are all your children.
And you will see your own children soon. Again and again, you will be called back home, like Ulysses, in your time. There will be time for Sabbath, when the call is quiet and the task is rest. You can rest from the world. But you can’t rest from yourself.
Be true to yourself.
And, women, there may be a hard thing about food. If you are a woman who leads (or any other woman…or some men), you may find it hard to feed yourself. If that happens to you, please, look for the friend. She is the friend who shares her French fries with you when you won’t order food of your own. He is the assistant, or the husband, who rolls his eyes and says, “She never eats when she’s working.” She is the midwife who brings you peanut butter toast after you have given birth. She is your sister, your mother. She will save you. Please, let her feed you.
Sweet girl, I will not tell you that this road is easy.
But one day you will slip into your skin like it fits you, and you’ll look around and you won’t know what you were fighting all those years. I can’t wait to see it. I’m going to be so proud.
Tears … and anguished sobs that I didn’t even know were stuck deep inside like rusty nails. Thank you! thank you … thank you
Oh, Dreamer, I know. That happened to me, too, writing it. Wishing you peace and joy.
This is a devotional I will return to again and again. Thank you.
Nicole. Thank you for doing life and writing with me. Courage calls out courage.
Mmmm. Holy ground.
Love you, Elora. Thanks for the encouragement.
This is wonderful writing Esther. Made me tearful but hopeful – for myself and my daughters. Thank you.
Thank you, Joanna! Thanks for reading!
This is ridiculously brilliant. So many wonderful things about it, but two thoughts keep jumping out at me. The first is, “man, that is one lucky 4-year-old to have Esther as her mommy.” The second is how much support you give to female leaders in this post, yet you don’t absolve them (us!) of responsibility: “don’t question your calling; question your skill” and “sometimes it will be your fault”. What a wonderful thing you’ve done here, Esther.
And, yes, I often sit down to dinner only to realize I forgot to eat that day.
Do you know what, Rachael? I’ve been thinking about this since you had impromptu confession week on your FB page. I am a great mom for my wild, say YES kind of daughter (most of the time). But I struggle to be everything I need to be for my anxious, cautious and controlling older son. *sigh* We all do the best we can!!
This brought me to tears. I was desperate for this message growing up. This is a text to which I will be returning over and over as I raise my daughter. Thank you!
I cried, too, writing it. Wishing you great love and courage and strength as you raise up your daughter.
Thank you!
This is incredibly stunning.
Thank you, and thanks for reading!
Oh Esther I want the whole world to read it now.
Me, too. Let’s broadcast it from the Empire State building. 🙂
[…] at my desk. I don’t have to be called called by anyone other than the one who already did. Esther is brilliant. Just go read it. Rate this:Share this:TwitterFacebookEmailPinterestLike this:Like […]
shakin my head in a humble “yes, and amen!”
Oh, thank you, dear friend. Thank you for being with me.
Oh, my, YES. Thank you for this charge and benediction. Truly lovely!!
Thank you for this…
Thank you for reading, Jennifer.
Wow. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Thank you for reading!
Yes, THIS:
But it will help you to understand this, and this is maybe the most important thing of all: There is no woman in the world – I don’t care how brave, how beautiful, how wildly fortunate, or how questionable her values – There is no woman in the world who needs you to cut her down.
Please, lean in to other women. We have heard that we women aren’t very nice to each other, that it is our nature to cut and compete. If so, it is only from living in too-small boxes, and competing for too-small parcels of air. It doesn’t have to be that way. Make it not that way.
Thank you so much for writing that.
Thank you for reading, Charlotte. I’m glad you’re here.
I already know I need to read this again. All I can say is Thank. You.
Thank you for reading, Sarah! It’s nice to meet you!
Nice to meet you, too! Found this post via Abby at Accidental Devotional. Such a beautiful blogger world! 🙂
And it’s OK for a man to say, Lead on. We need you all
Indeed. We open these paths with the intention of mutual respect and fully shared leadership. Your words are welcome.
Wow, Esther. Thankful to have landed in this holy place for a few minutes today.
i’m a young missionary, still scared of the fact that i get mail with reverend attached to the front of my name. and this. this means so much, keeps me from shrinking back from what i know is calling.
I am tearing up in my Bible College library where I am one of the few women in a pastoral degree program. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Your words speak freedom over my spirit and they quiet lies that have snuck up on me for too long. Thank you.
Thank you. You spoke right to my heart in so many ways.
Halleluiah, Amen.
“Sometimes you will believe this. Sometimes you will try to make yourself small, and quiet.” Oh my, yes. I have done this. And it has hurt. Now I have daughters and I can only hope no one ever makes them feel this way. Or when they do, they understand strength the way you are teaching it here. Thank you!
Oh my, this is simply breathtaking. Every word rang true to my heart today and called me forward. Thank you for sharing such truth. Thank you, thank you.
[…] sent me this amazing article, Letter to a Woman Called to Leadership, please take a moment now and read it. It’s breathtaking, encouraging, it calls me […]
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[…] Letter to a Woman Called to Leadership […]
Beautiful. Thank you for this.
[…] and the jostling. There is room for you up there. There is room for every bit of you up there. Continue reading here Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:Like […]
[…] might think nobody cares about it. But I don’t think that’s it at all. My most popular post of the entire year of 2013 is about knowing that you are called to lead and rise and take up space. […]
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