“For Making Me a Woman”

By Ms. Marty Conner, p. 8 from Women’s Uncommon Prayers

 

For making me a woman
in what still so often
seems like a man’s world,
I thank you.
Because you taught me by example
that power is your gift,
and not my possession.

For giving me a body
though it sometimes fails me
and is not all I wish it was
or rather, a good deal more
than I wish it was,
I thank you.
Because you taught me 
that I am much more 
than my body
and yet my body is
your holy temple.

For calling me to be
more than I believe I can be,
and less
than I sometimes believe I am,
I thank you.
Because you taught me
that being is more than doing,
that who I am
and whose I am
are more important than
what I do
or what I have.

For all that you are
Creator,
Redeemer,
Sanctifier,
Great “I Am,”
I bless you
as you have so greatly blessed me.

My boss recently got me the book, "Women's Uncommon Prayers," because I expressed an interest in it and the one thing he'll always encourage is more reading. 

Some of the prayers aren't really prayers but more like poetry, which I love. 
Some of them are highly syncretistic and not quite what I’d say are in line with Church Doctrine, but they’re interesting to read all the same.
Some of them make me downright want to cry they're so beautiful.

They're not general prayers or prayers offered by men (which are also wonderful but that's not the point). They're prayers offered by women who have lived and struggled and believed and taught the faith as women. There's a special power to that. Just like I go to a female doctor because I feel I am better heard than I was by the male doctors I went to in the past, so also I find pieces of my soul in the writings of other women.

I'm only a few pages deep and I've already realized what drew me to this book in the first place. 

I grew up believing I was some kind of sub-human. Not necessarily in a negative way, and not because anyone around me used those words, but in the way that I think a lot of women grow up - specifically in very conservative Christian circles. It wasn't until I attended Bible School that I realized I was made in the image of God, not in the image of man. While Scripture clearly states that both men and women were made in his image (Gen. 1:26-27), due to the interpretation I was given of other biblical passages, I always believed that I had been made in the image of man. 

In other words: I was a copy of a copy. 

I don't have the words to accurately express how big of an impact this had on me or how, nine years later, I'm still unravelling all the effects of the beliefs I once held about what it means to be a woman. It never occurred to me that it was something to be thankful for. I thought it was something to overcome, to apologize for, and to hide.

I grew up hearing men lift their voices in prayer on a weekly basis while all of us women prayed silently in agreement, only praying aloud when men were not present. 
I believed my voice as a woman was not to be heard because it had the ability to somehow override that of a man's and thus take away from the glory of God.
I was both too worthy and not worthy enough to speak. Too worthy because I could overpower the voice or the prayers of a man. Not worthy enough because I was a woman, a mere copy of God’s creation. My very being proclaimed "the glory of man" (1 Corinthians 11:7) and that would distract from the worship of God. 

So I sat in silence and covered my head.

Maybe you can relate to this idea. Maybe it’s something you once believed or currently believe. Regardless of how you were raised or what churches you have attended, I hope this prayer speaks to you of your inherent worth as a woman made in the very image of God, portraying pieces of who he is to the world simply by existing. I hope this reminds you – or possibly even tells you for the first time in your life – that you are not a copy of a copy. You are not sub-human. You are made in the image of a loving, kind, and gracious Creator. 

I have no idea who any of the women in this book are, but I'm hearing their voices and they echo my own in a way I didn't realize my soul needed.