As a little girl, I was fearless.

When summer stretched long and the humidity hung thick in the air, I climbed trees with scraped knees, conquered the tallest slides at the park, and shouted a cheerful, “Hi! Want to hang out?” to anyone who didn’t have someone to play with. With cowlicky bangs and oversized glasses, I was a confident, brave child who didn’t second-guess herself. I wasn’t afraid to try something new or speak up when a playground bully pushed things a little too far.

I stood firm in who I was, skinned knees and all.

But over time, my confidence began to erode. I started noticing how others could be sharp-edged and mean. Insecurity was contagious, and soon enough, I was catching it. I learned that confidence could be labeled as arrogance. That boldness could be perceived as being too much. And especially within certain Christian circles, I heard the message loud and clear: Blend in. Be quiet. Dull your light.

If I could go back in time, I would put my hands on that confused girl’s shoulders, look her straight in the eyes, and tell her the truth: That message isn’t from Jesus.

In Christ, we are invited into the fullness of life, where our courage isn’t prideful, but is rooted in God’s purpose and power. When we live out of the depths of God’s love, conformity loosens its shackles and we are free to live confidently, compassionately reflecting the heart of Christ.

Throughout history, when women have walked in that truth — when they’ve dared to live with holy courage and Spirit-fueled love — they’ve changed the world. (Even if they didn’t know it at the time.)

I’ve been reading about United States history, trying to understand the moment we’re in and how we got here. And while history is complicated and at times heartbreaking (and even angering), I find myself returning to stories of women of faith who refused to shrink, who were faithful to God’s call to love Him and love their neighbors as themselves, even when cruelty and chaos tried to extinguish their light:

• Clara Brown was born into the atrocity of slavery. When she secured her freedom at the age of 56, she traveled west, becoming one of the first Black women to settle in the state of Colorado. Her faith inspired her to build churches, reunite families, and provide generous care for those in need.
• Frances Willard helped lead the temperance and suffrage movements, linking her public advocacy to a deeply rooted Christian faith.
• Fannie Lou Hamer sang freedom songs (it’s said that her favorite was “This Little Light of Mine”). She bravely advocated for civil rights, even after enduring brutal beatings and unjust imprisonment.
• Dorothy Day, a journalist and founder of the Catholic Worker Movement, embodied her love for God and her neighbor through her work in soup kitchens, hospitality houses, and her pleas for peace. 

These are just a few examples of a starlit sky full of women who drew strength from God being the center of themselves. Each lived out her conviction that the gospel calls us into the fullness of who we are in Christ.

And we see that glittering thread stretch far back throughout Scripture, too:

• Shiphrah and Puah, the midwives in Exodus 1, defied Pharaoh’s orders to kill Hebrew baby boys. In an act of holy resistance, they protected life and laid a foundation for Moses to be born.
• Rahab, a woman on the margins of society, risked everything to protect Israelite spies and is later named in the lineage of Jesus (Matthew 1:5). 
• Deborah led a nation into battle with wisdom and courage as both prophet and judge (Judges 4–5).
• The woman with the alabaster jar broke cultural expectations and poured out everything she had at Jesus’ feet (Luke 7:36-50).
• Mary Magdalene stayed near Jesus through His death and was the first to witness and proclaim His resurrection (John 20:11-18).

These women didn’t fit neatly into the expectations of their time. But they fit beautifully into God’s story.

In the face of cruelty, God calls us to be women of courage.

In times of conformity, God calls us to be women of confidence.

In the rubble of collapse, God calls us to be women of compassion.

Jesus told His followers to have the faith of a child. And maybe part of that invitation is to return to the holy boldness we once knew before the world told us who we should be.

I want to remember the girl who wasn’t afraid to create just for the joy of it. The girl who extended friendship to everyone. The girl who believed in standing for what’s right and didn’t worry if it made her stand out…or stand alone.

Imagine your younger self. What did she look like? What brought her joy? Who was she when the world wasn’t watching or whispering to her to be a certain way?

Imagine taking the girl you used to be under your arm and whispering: “There are people you haven’t even met yet who are counting on you to be the girl and woman God made you to be. You are loved. You are not alone. You’re called for such a time as this. And I can’t wait to watch you shine.”

What would it take for you to believe that your presence matters in this world? What would it take for you to trust that Christlike compassion is more about showing up than it is about having the right words? What might it look like for you to move forward in confidence that radiates from the One who calls you beloved?

 

Listen to Kayla’s devotion here, or wherever you stream podcasts.

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