"I Can Do It" but Should I?

I've spent a lot of time thinking about gender inequity in the workplace, particularly in church work and higher education.

Why aren't women paid the same? Are women asked to do the same amount of work as men? Why are women such reliable lay volunteers but excluded from top leadership, or in the case of higher education, why are the most reliable staff often women, but the top leadership are almost always men?

While this is still an ongoing wondering for me, I do have some ideas. Please keep in mind that these are all general tendencies, and that I am in no way trying to speak for all women or all men or all churches or all educational institutions. These are just general observations, to which I'm sure there are nuances. (And the reason I had to write that at all is because I know there will be men who read this and want to quickly correct me for how non-sexist they personally are, without even taking the time to think about how they benefit from the system by being male or how their complicity with these systems does perpetrate sexism.)

Women are incredibly competent. We are good organizers, good with people, and willing to work hard to acquire new skills. We are ideal employees!

We are also very good jugglers, because we have had to be. (This was the most unsatisfying punchline of a rom com ever, in I Don't Know How She Does It.) We are constantly juggling to-do lists, long-range plans, short-range plans, grocery lists, menus, drop-offs, pick-ups, health care needs and frequencies, car repair needs and frequencies, budgets, organizing strategies, physical fitness for the family, sports and activities for the family, whose birthday is when and what gift to give, upcoming travel plans, what to wear in the family photo and who/where/when to take it, etc. And that's just our personal life, what some scholars have called "emotional labor." Even if there is a partner to help with the execution of household and family responsibilities, women tend to be the ones who manage this work, keeping track of what needs to be done and when, and delegating the responsibility. We still hold it, even if others help us do it.

And, we are juggling in parallel at work. We are thinking about committees, reports, newsletters, events, networking relationships, upcoming hires, upcoming presentations, class prep, professional development, conferences, association membership and leadership, etc. And even those women who are lucky enough to have a staff to help them are having to keep track of everything to appropriately delegate the right tasks to the people who can best execute them. We hold it all.

And on top of that, women tend to volunteer for things much more often than men. Whether it's to demonstrate competency, lean in with ambition, or a sense of obligation to help others whenever in need, women tend to volunteer for way more than men do.

In higher education, this means women spend more time advising, counseling, serving on committees, assisting with other departmental efforts, etc, which takes a lot of time and often interferes with having sufficient time for things that directly lead to promotion - namely, teaching and publication. So, the system of university evaluation and promotion systemically disadvantages those who are more engaged in service, which typically means women and minorities, the very folks already facing disadvantage in the field.

In church life, this means women spend more time on pastoral care visits, answering phones or returning calls, sending cards, offering mid-week Bible studies, sitting on committees, or having planning conversations. They are the backbone of the work, but very little in the limelight. And because of expectations that pastors serve their congregations, and the prejudice against women pastors, it is very difficult for women pastors to say no or to set boundaries on their time.

Serving professions (teaching, ministry, social work, etc) attract people who care about others and want to make the world a better place through service. These fields attract a lot of women. And women tend to be among the most competent in all of these fields, and more.

But these are the same fields that tend to exploit the labor of women, letting them put in extra hours without bonus pay or promotion, letting them sign up for lots of extra service opportunities but not factoring that in their evaluations, expecting them to produce results but not guiding them in how to budget their time so that they can succeed on the career ladder.

I'm so tired of the quick-and-thoughtless response that women are choosing to raise families, which is why they aren't seeking career mobility. What that means is that women are still expected to do most if not all of the work of raising a family, even if they work full-time, but men now want to take half or more of the credit.

And what's worse, when men do volunteer for something, it's so rare that a big deal is made about it. How many times have you heard moms at school compliment a particular dad for helping, but not expect similar gratitude for their consistent above-and-beyond helping? He did it once, which is so rare and precious, so we must throw him a parade, but never mind that we rise to the occasion on top of our regular jobs day in and day out!

Just yesterday, a colleague and I were trying to visualize the life of some of the men we know professionally. Wake up and put on clothes you did not wash, eat a breakfast you did not cook made from groceries you did not purchase and put away, drive to work at a leisurely pace without the hubbub of children's drop-offs, work until you feel done for the day, drive home at a leisurely pace without the hubbub of children's pick-ups or errands, rest a bit in a comfortable chair before you eat a meal you didn't cook made from groceries you did not purchase and put away, read or watch television leisurely until you were ready to go to bed, and then repeat. We could not imagine it. Even when our children are staying elsewhere for a night, we are still juggling laundry, errands, menus, lists, tidying, health, and relationships. We don't get up when we want. We don't go to bed when we want. We often leave work before we feel done for the day. And when we do get home, we start an hours-long shift of caretaking, cooking, cleaning, and prepping for the next day. I'm lucky if I get 30 minutes of leisure time before I go to bed. But the men we were thinking of often post loving dad pics on Facebook, which is perhaps the only 30 seconds they spent with their kid all day. Most of their time is about themselves, yet they get credit for being an invested parent. Mom, on the other hand, is doing most of the work at work and most of the work at home, and it's "normal" so we take it for granted.

I doubt that most institutions mean to exploit the labor of women. I suspect that a problem is posed, a woman volunteers to help or has already demonstrated capability to solve the problem, and she is tasked. Women are doing more work, for less pay, and then going home and putting in another full-time job's worth of a shift to care for their families. Even if they have a staff at work and a supportive/responsible partner at home, women tend to carry the burdens.

It's a vicious cycle. If I say no to something I know I am capable of doing, I feel guilty, like I'm not being a responsible member of my community. But there are some things that I just don't have the resources to do. I don't have the time or emotional energy to take on every project that needs doing. Others have much more time than I do, they just aren't volunteering. Others know how to do the task just as well as I do, or even better, they just aren't volunteering.

And in the faculty/staff meeting, inevitably, the leader will ask for volunteers, there may be an awkward silence, and odds are a woman will fill it by volunteering herself. We are used to juggling a million responsibilities, so what's one more? We can get it done.

But is this ultimately helping us, making us look more like members of the team, and demonstrating our well-rounded capability? Or, is this keeping us in a hamster wheel, so bogged down in the things that others weren't willing to do, that we undermine our own career progress?

I'm not saying women shouldn't invest where they feel capable and able to help. Each woman should get to determine such things for herself. I'm saying that some environments recognize women as super jugglers and systemically take advantage of them, whether those environments realize they're doing this or not. I'm also saying some women don't realize when it's happening to them, and think that eventually their hard work will be recognized, but ultimately end up getting passed over for promotion by a man.

It's a complex problem that will require careful reflection by all involved. There's not one solution. The answers likely depend on the specific context. Some employers are being very careful to ensure that service counts for promotion. Some employers encourage their junior staff/faculty to judiciously limit their involvement so that their time can be devoted to developing new courses and publishing. And some employers insist on offering supplemental pay, revised job titles, or promotions for those who truly exceed their job descriptions. Some employers keep tally of who has volunteered for what and require those whose numbers are lagging to pull their weight.

But it is a problem. Even if women get to the executive table, which is still incredibly difficult, the table isn't set up for fairness. Men reap higher dividends even when women make bigger investments. The playing field is not level. And until the systems that perpetuate uneven expectations and uneven rewards for women are redeemed, we will have tokenism at best.

The Nerve

Tonight I saw a breathtaking performance of Frederick Douglass: The Making of an American Prophet at the National Civil Rights Museum. The music, the acting, the writing, and the dancing were hauntingly beautiful.

You may guess that the performance included historically accurate language and power dynamics. Dr. Noelle Trent was right that we must face the past, even if it makes us uncomfortable, so that we can learn from it and move forward. As a scholar of Black religious history and of the Civil Rights Movement, I am familiar with these historical narratives such that I am rarely surprised by their depiction. Moved yes, surprised no.

But tonight, I was caught off guard. There were numerous scenes where the slave owner beat his slaves, spoke to them with dehumanizing words, and tried to break their spirits. He would rape slaves, then sell their children away from their mothers "for both his pleasure and his profit." Haunting.

A nerve was hit tonight. Something resonated for me, something familiar. There is a way about people like that.  I don't know the word for it. Entitlement? Brutality? I know it when I see it. They are the people who see you for what you can do for them, not as a person. They are the people who carry themselves like they are gods unto themselves, accountable to no one for their actions. Have you encountered people like that?

I remember being berated by words meant to hurt me, meant to break my spirit. I remember being isolated from support systems, being bullied, being insulted for the things that I valued. And why? Because I was acting like I was somebody, not somebody's. Because I dared assert my personhood in the image of God.

All along, I suspected that God meant things to be different. And when I finally said that out loud - what Frederick Douglass would call "praying with my legs" - it felt like LIFE. It felt warm, like blood coursing through my veins, like beautiful music on my tongue. It felt like dancing, like the wind in freshly trimmed hair, like the freshest most decadent bread ever eaten.

Even now, I have these little moments where I tap into that, where I give myself permission to feel joy again. In brutality, it's not safe to feel joy or hope. Those are expensive. Survival is enough.

But in freedom, there is dancing and singing and LIFE.

The performance tonight brought those feelings back to me, both reminiscences of brutality and celebration of new life.

Frederick Douglass's critique of Christianity, that it perpetrates brutality against other humans and dares call that God's will, is spot on. You cannot preach a revival with your Bible in your left hand while whipping slaves with your right. You cannot preach the love of Jesus as you tear babies from their mothers, whom you have raped. You cannot promote a politic of domination and brutality and call that Christian freedom.

That quality I can't quite describe is still extremely prevalent in Plantation South. It manifests itself in things like opposition to women's health care, police brutality against Black people, and domestic violence. That same air of entitlement to dominate others still dares blame its brutality on God. As Rev. Dr. Prathia Hall often said, "The living God is not a bigot!"

If you vote based on your spiritual identity, you have every right to do so. But please think carefully about what is really happening. When politicians throw around words like "freedom" and "rights" and "Christian" while executing people, disregarding Black lives, tolerating rape and then blaming women for it and its consequences, criminalizing poverty, limiting access to health care and social services, and doing absolutely nothing to protect innocent people from gun violence by terrorists or police, rest assured they are not talking about the God of the Bible. They are talking about a white male privilege world where women and minorities are to be kept in their place by any means necessary. They are talking about greed, not justice. They are talking about evil, not love.

Tonight, a nerve was struck. Through Douglass's prophetic leadership and strength of spirit that could not be broken, I remembered a piece of my journey. I witnessed a glimpse into the journeys of others who have faced brutality far worse than I will ever know. But I also witnessed a glimpse of hope - even joy - that cannot be overcome. I witnessed a powerful reminder that often the margins have a better grasp of the revolution of the gospel than the center. I witnessed a room full of strangers merge into one heartbeat, one rhythm, one song.

Lord, in your mercy, let there be justice, let there be love, let there be true freedom. Lord, in your mercy, let all churches proclaim in word and deed that Black Lives Matter. Lord, in your mercy, let male dominance over women end, that we may truly be one in Christ. Lord, in your mercy, bring peace where there is discord, justice where there is injustice, and hope and joy where there is sorrow. Lord, hear our prayer.

Talking With Kids About Things That Matter

I often hear parents say that they wish they knew how to talk to their kids about things like racism, sexism, heterosexism, etc., as if there was some elite skill set one must have to facilitate a conversation about inequity.

It's much easier than you might think, and I want to explore that in hopes that you would feel empowered to talk to your kids about things that matter.

Kids have an innate sense of justice. "She took my ball, and that's not fair." "It was supposed to be my turn to be line leader, he broke the rules." "I was talking, but that person didn't listen because I'm small." And so on.

That's a great place to start. Kids want to feel heard. Even if as the parent you need to make a choice different from what they're saying, they want to know that you saw that they faced something unfair, that you heard them, and that they matter.

So goes the world. Every great social justice movement in our history has involved voices from the margins speaking truth about their experiences of being marginalized by those in the center. And before real change can happen, those voices must be heard and understood. Even, and especially, when what those on the margins are saying makes us uncomfortable. Once the injustice is understood, groups can work together to eradicate not just individual instances of bigotry, but also systemic perpetuation of injustice.

In kid language, instead of just asking Johnny to remember that it's your turn to be line leader, you can evaluate the system to protect the turn of whoever is the line leader from others who might want to take that turn inappropriately, and recognizing if the current system keeps some children from ever getting a turn. Or, instead of asking Susie to give the ball back, you can make sure that the system promotes sharing, taking turns, and ways to communicate kindly about it. Or, instead of just excusing the inconsiderate behavior of that grown up who devalued your child's voice because he is small, creating cultural norms that when someone is talking, others show respect for that person by listening.

Those kinds of conversations can emerge throughout the day very naturally. Mundane things you probably already ask your kids like "How was school today?" "Who did you play with today?" and "What did you most and least enjoy about your day?" can lead to transformational conversations with your child about how they are feeling and what they are learning. They will tell you when things are bothering them, and then you get to be a part of helping them think through the situation, identifying the dynamics, and strategizing solutions.

One of my favorite such conversations with my son happened when he asked why I didn't like him to watch a particular superhero television show. I told him that I thought it was too violent, and that I wished that they could use their words instead of their weapons. He said, "But, Mommy. The superheroes do use their words, but sometimes the bad guys don't listen." (My kid is really sharp!) So we talked about what we do when we are using our words, but others don't listen. We talked about allies who can help us find peace and reconciliation when talking to the person directly doesn't work. We talked about why good people make bad choices, and that "bad guys" may not be the best language for talking about other people. We talked about ways we can protect ourselves when others seek to harm us. It felt like the most natural conversation in the world, even though it was pretty remarkable.

If all of that still feels daunting, then take a deep breath, remind yourself that you are a wonderful parent, and think about this idea. One of the best ways I recommend you start talking to your kids about things that matter is through books. If you don't already have books about civil rights, women's rights, environmentalism, your faith tradition, or biographies of heroes and sheroes, then pick some up. There are many MANY M-A-N-Y choices for diversity / inclusivity / spirituality / environmentalism / etc in children's literature. And if talking about actual historical people feels too scary / real for you at this point, there are plenty of examples of those same dynamics with animal instead of human characters. Choose some that resonate with you, and read them with your kids. And then read them again. Maybe the first time, you just read it and there is no conversation. That's okay. Keep them in the rotation. Let the seeds grow. 

Eventually, your kids will ask you questions. They will want to know why Jazz Jennings was teased by other children at school (homophobia), why Rosa Parks was thrown off the bus for going in the front door (racism), or why people thought Amelia Earheart couldn't fly all by herself (sexism). And that is a wonderful opportunity for you to talk about those issues with your kids. 

And if they don't bring it up, then try some interactive reading. "Why do you think that the bus driver said that?" "What do you think that she will do next?" "Do you think that his behavior was good or bad?"

At school and in communities of faith, your children are no doubt hearing things like, "use your words" and "let's share so that all of our friends can play." They understand those ideas. And they'll want to know why those in the book weren't following those basic rules of human civility. This lets you talk about fear, ignorance, greed, power, and other things that lead us to make bad choices. You can talk with your kids about love versus hate, and what those ideas look like in human behavior. You can ask them to help you identify who was being wise and who was not, who was acting with love and who was not, who was being a friend and who was not. 

This gives them an invaluable toolkit for critical thinking. When they are out in the world, they'll be able to recognize when people might be using words like "liberty" or "justice," when in fact their actions model the opposite. They'll be able to tell when people are misappropriating sacred texts for their own selfish agendas. They'll be able to identify when they make assumptions that may not be fair, and how it makes them feel when others do so about them. They'll build empathy, courage of conviction, and a vocabulary for talking about things that matter.

It is one of the most important gifts you can give your child. It feels scary because you recognize how important it is. Maybe you are afraid you won't know what to say, or that you'll confuse your kids, or that you are still figuring some of it out for yourself and don't feel ready. Your kids don't need you to be an expert. They need you to be honest and available. Be yourself. If they ask a question you can't answer, it's okay to say, "I don't know. Let's find out together."

I encourage you to read books about things that matter at least once a week. Brad Meltzer has a great series of I Am books featuring a wide variety of historical figures (Abraham Lincoln, Albert Einstein, Jackie Robinson, Lucille Ball, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Jr., Amelia Earheart, etc). There are dozens of books about the civil rights movement, many written by children of the activists. There are hundreds of children's biographies of people like Malala Yousafzai, Harriet Tubman, Malcolm X, and others. There are books about different kinds of families: families with two homes, families with two mommies or two daddies, families with only one parent, families that live with many generations, families that live apart from each other, adoptive families, foster families, multiracial families, multifaith families. There are books about every religion under the sun, and many exceptional books about how people of different faiths can work together in their communities. Find what speaks to you and start there. Add to your collection over time. Be purposeful about letting your home library demonstrate inclusivity and diversity. 

And before you know it, your kids will be reading to their kids from the books you have chosen, and those little seeds will have deep roots and vibrant blossoms of things like love, nonviolence, taking care of the earth and each other, and honoring the humanity of each person.

Thanks for reading all the way to the bottom of this one! Please be in touch if you would like recommendations of books or if you want to share success stories from your great conversations with your kids about things that matter!

Skatemance

So, there's this guy.

He's been in my life for several years, but not in that way. I just thought of him as Stanley's hockey coach, who was often available to babysit, and who had an intuitive sense of offering helpful and thoughtful gestures.

Shortly after I moved to Memphis, I visited Texas with the high honor of marrying my best friend to her love. While I was in town, he asked if we could meet up to catch up. Sure! And it was there that I saw something surprising, something I had never seen before. 

As I shared this with a small trusted circle, I learned that many of them had suspected his affections for a while. They encouraged me to see where it might go. 

Several months later...

While I was happy before, in that I felt really comfortable with my life and loved my family, my job, my church, and was not feeling anything lacking, I have not been this happy in a really long time. Once Michael entered the picture, everything was just better, brighter, happier. 

For the first time in my life, I have a partner, a wonderful partner who is supportive, hilarious, creative, kind, and generous. When we're together, we laugh, we talk about things we've read, we dance, we think, we cook, and we embrace the magic of the little moments that make the difference between existence and really living. 

It's like the last scene of The Cutting Edge, when they finally skate their long program perfectly, but they're mostly smiling because they've found the real prize - each other. 

What happens when a figure skater falls in love with a hockey player? #skatemance

What's In A Norm? Some Thoughts on Public Womanhood

Have you ever heard someone say that they thank God they were not born a ____? What you fill in that blank will tell you a lot about yourself.

I have had a lot of indoor alone time lately as my body and my cold battle things out. And given an abundance of time on my couch, I have been watching movies and reading books. This "medicine" has given me doses of Amy Schumer, Jennifer Lawrence, Uzo Aduba, Laverne Cox, Zoe Saldana, Emily Blunt, Anna Kendrick, Mindy Kaling, Jenny Lawson, Amy Poehoer, Tina Fey, and Maya Rudolph. It was a good day.

Most of my life, I have received criticism for violating gender norms.

I'm actually pretty well in compliance with most female gender norms. I can cook, sew, crochet, knit, embroider, clean, organize, dance, sing, decorate, and take copious notes. I love children. My idea of sports is figure skating and Zumba. I like to read fiction. I studied five foreign languages. I dress modestly.

But every so often (read: at least weekly) I get an underhanded comment about being too loud, too quick to speak, too eager for public leadership, too independent, or trying to "have it all." These comments are not-so-subtle ways of telling me that I'm being too male.

(Maybe one day I'll write a post that includes some of the most ridiculous things people have said to me. You tell me if this would be helpful for public awareness of latent prejudice.)

Male independence, assertiveness, competence, ambition, and confidence are highly valued. "He'll be the boss one day!" But when I exhibit those traits, I become something unwanted, something dangerous.

I've dealt with that kind of social pressure (and harassment) so long that I've grown accustomed to it. And it doesn't bother me any more because I see through it now. Those comments are the insecurities and fears of others being projected onto me because they want to feel control. It's not really about me, it's about them. My being me doesn't interfere with them being them. They don't realize that, so they take it out on me.

But as I was having my sick-on-the-couch day, I saw a very different picture of public womanhood, and I loved it. I am so thankful for these women and their insistence to create public space for women to be who they are, whether that fits into a gender norm or not. On screen and off, they are assertive, brilliant, funny, vulnerable, wise, flawed, athletic, clumsy, and independent. Some have families while others don't, and their womanhood is not defined by either situation. They are owning their bodies, loving themselves no matter what others think of them, and giving hope to a generation of girls who will grow up seeing more possibilities for women than ever before.

And as I look at my book shelf, I feel even more hope. Malala Yousafzai, Sheryl Sandberg, Jann Aldredge-Clanton, Alice Walker, Delores Williams, Katie Cannon, Letty Russell, Rosemary Radford Ruether, Renita Weems, Marcia Riggs, Susan Shaw, Betsy Flowers, Jacquelyn Grant, Ada Maria Isisi Diaz, Dorothy Day, Mary Daly, and the list goes on. Google them if you don't know them. You'll be the better for it.

Whether scholars or entertainers, this cloud of witnesses is proclaiming a new way to be a society. They are speaking out against sexism and racism and classism and homophobia. And not in dainty, ladylike ways. They are boldly speaking truth to power, saying it like it is, and making it plain. They are insisting that "community" means "all are welcome, all are important, and all share responsibility." They are defying gender norms and being themselves. They aren't perfect, but they are making the paths of their foremothers even wider for those who will follow them.

There is still a long way to go. A long way. Racism, sexism, classism, and homophobia still skew the story, and still silence voices. But I am feeling encouraged that I am part of a global sistren who are standing up for women's equality and making the audacious claim that women of all races, cultures, ages, and sexualities have something important to offer to public discourse.

Thank you to women who are writing memoirs about breaking through glass ceilings and into board rooms and revolutionizing their countries. Thank you to women who are speaking up in meetings. Thank you to women who are pursuing their dreams even if others say it's selfish or foolish. Thank you to women who are funny. Thank you to women who speak up for those whose voices are silenced. Thank you to women who choose health/sanity over ridiculous standards of thinness. Thank you to women who pass their wisdom to future generations.

Who are your sheroes? Whether famous or famous-to-you, who are the women who give you hope and who inspire you?

What Is Your Name?

Lately, several people have asked me about my name. Mostly, people want to know why I have kept "Lyons" since my divorce. All I can answer is "it's complicated."

Practically, I have kept "Lyons" for two reasons. One, it is immensely helpful to have the same last name as your children. Two, most of my professional accomplishments have been published under the name "Lyons." While I am early in my career, I have published a number of journal articles, book chapters, encyclopedia articles, etc under that name.

If I could go back in time, I would have either kept my maiden name when I married or asked that we both hyphenate our names. But since I did not make either of those choices at that time, it's silly to wonder "what if."

When I was completing my PhD, my university asked me what name I wanted on my diploma. Friends can testify that I spent about a month pondering that seemingly simple question. In my innermost self, I am a "Johnson-Pace," which has never actually been my name at all. I am proud of my family name - both of my family names. They remind me of the wonderful people on both sides of my family who have raised me, loved me, nurtured me, and guided me. For 22 years, I was unequivocally "Pace." But then for 7 years I was "Lyons." Removing the last name won't change the fact that for almost 1/3 of my life (now more like 1/4), I was "Lyons." It's my story.

So, I chose to keep both of my legal last names and graduate as "Pace Lyons." Many people just call me "Dr. Lyons." I don't like being called "Dr. Lyons," because it ignores 22 years of my identity. If two names feels burdensome, my ear would rather hear that shortened to "Dr. Pace" than "Dr. Lyons." But in the end, people call me what I was going by when they met me, and as long as I know they're talking to me in a positive way, I typically answer.

Divorce is the most isolating thing I've ever gone through, even though I chose it, and there are so many questions that emerge as you're going through a divorce that you can't anticipate. One of the questions I struggled most with in my recovery was "What is your name?"

A lot of young people are in such a hurry to grow up, to leave their families, and to become who they are destined to become. Or so they tell me when they come to my office in the middle of an emotional breakdown. But it's funny what even 5-10 years can do to that narrative. Eventually, the story shifts from breaking free to restoration. It's not unlike Brueggemann's Orientation, Disorientation, and Reorientation in the Psalms. Yes, we may want to make different choices from our parents, and that is 100% healthy and necessary. But the older I get, the more I want to tap into the roots of my family tree, to carry my heritage with pride, and to accept that some of the "me-est" parts of me are family traits. I've personalized them and made them my own, but they are part of a story that is bigger than just me.

Here are some of the traits of my family that bloom prominently in me: music, performance, wit, love of travel, reading, creating, building, designing, decorating, sewing, crocheting, shortness, feminism, preaching, generosity, and teaching.

I have a degree in engineering (my dad's father Jack), and I am an ordained minister (my mom's father Stanley), a quilt maker (my mom's mother Colyne), a crocheter (my dad's mother Roberta), and a stubborn, independent teacher who celebrates the performing arts (both of my parents). As a child I insisted not to be a musician because both of my parents were music teachers. And now look at me. I am a teacher who sings constantly. I am one-of-a-kind, but I bloom from my family's tree without a doubt.

Next time someone asks you for your name, or you write it down on a form, pause for a minute and reflect. What is your name?

Stole Sisters

I am a mother, a preacher, a professor, a scholar, a coach, and a number of other things. While I have hobbies that renew me and good friends who nourish my soul, sometimes it feels like something is still missing.

And then I figured out what it was. I need to hear women preach. Regularly. Like protein in my diet, I need to hear from my sisters. I want to know what God is saying to them, and I want to hear their wisdom.

This world is blessed with so many women who are called to preach. Anointed by God, these proclaimers are powerful witnesses to God's work among us. Their sermons are a drink of fresh water in the middle of my Texas summer, and I need to hear from them. We all need to hear from them.

So, I created Stole Sisters, a podcast that features women preachers. You can subscribe through iTunes (or any other major podcast streaming service) or listen online here. Each episode features sermons by a sister of the cloth, representing a variety of denominations, theological perspectives, and ministries, with no agenda other than to faithfully preach the word of God. If you would like to nominate yourself or a talented preacher you know to be featured on this podcast, I welcome you to contact me.

Stole Sisters fully supports and affirms equity in the pulpit and seeks to promote the thousands of women preachers whose voices are so often silenced or ignored. God is bigger than any one gender, and the church best follows the teachings of Christ when it welcomes all who wish to respond to God's call.

Listen in to hear what God has to say through a Stole Sister. And then go out in the world and do what God has called you to do. And together, working as one family of God, may we be the Church that Christ has called us to be.