Monday, July 25, 2005

The Imposter Syndrome

(Post written by Cathy, a friend now working in corporate America)

Even after completing my Masters Degree, I still couldn't shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before people discovered me as an "imposter"; I thought it only a matter of time before my supervising colleagues would walk into my office and expose me for the fraud that I believed myself to be. They never did. In fact, they continued to be impressed with my performance and professional aptitude. Nonetheless, I remained paranoid.Why did I refuse to see myself as the bright and capable woman that everyone else believed me to be? Dr. Linda Young's article perfectly articulated why -- The Imposter Syndrome. Hopefully this article will liberate you in the same way it liberated me. Dr. Young's article came at the most oportune time. Her research and personal insights were nothing short of liberating. (http://www.impostersyndrome.com)

Friday, July 22, 2005

the song is hers

(words borrowed from many great female hymn writers throughout history)
open my eyes, that I may see glimpses of truth thou hast for me
whispers in the walls, our soft voices massage and sooth
to god be the glory—great things he has done
wrap the wounded and pull them to us
jesus loves me! this I know, for the bible tells me so
love words heal
savior, like a shepherd lead us, much we need thy tender care
our poem songs to dance through time
more love to thee, o christ, more love to thee
passionate devotion to our jesus
nearer, my god, to thee, nearer to thee
real, thick, true love
‘ tis so sweet to trust in jesus, just to take him at his word
melodies hummed during daily life
grace, grace, god’s grace, grace that is greater than all our sin
songs that tell our sweet stories
mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord
nameless voices still singing
just as I am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me
bowing our heads to the father
i need thee ev’ry hour, most gracious lord, no tender voice like thine, can peace afford
raising our words to embrace him
blessed assurance, jesus is mine
her song words welcomed in his church
i am thine, o lord, I have heard thy voice
poems of her god affections
take my life and let it be, consecrated, lord, to thee
her fingerprints found only on eternity
i love to tell the story! ‘twill be my theme in glory—to tell the sweet, sweet story of jesus and his love

Who Do You Say That I Am?

Who Do You Say That I Am?
A heart, a jar. A heart ajar.
Far away in time, women
Speak and are heard,
They write and are read.
They look back over time and
Try to know me, seek me between,
Behind, beneath the evangelist’s words.
They name me: Mary of Bethany, Mary of
Magdala. The quiet one, or the sinful one, does
It matter? I was the believing one, the only one who
Understood what lay ahead, who Jesus was, where his
Way would lead. A disciple, was I a disciple? Would you
Call a woman by that name? Elizabeth, Elisabeth, Mary Ann,
Mary Ann, Hisako, Winsome, Pheme, Philsy, Rita and today, Martha,
Who do they say that I am? I was part of the community; I was a stranger
I came in off the street; I was a member of the household. I spent my own
Money, earned by my sinful labor or my entrepreneurial prowess, or perhaps
It was my father’s, or my master’s. Daughter of the house, maiden aunt, servant
Girl. Do you know me? Can you imagine the feast for the senses I brought to Him?
My smooth and gleaming alabaster jar full or fragrant, slick, expensive ointment, all for
His honor, all for His pleasure, all for His anointing, all for His Kingship, all for his death -
I came to heal, to anoint, to honor, to prophesy. And those who knew him so well and
Had followed him down the dirt roads and across the lakes could not see what I could
See. Now they call me prescient, faithful, intuitive, prophetic, compassionate, caring
Determined. Then the men around me thought me wasteful, dangerous, out-of-line
And uncharitable. An extravagant woman. Was I gracious? Was I lavish in my
Love for him? The result has been voicelessness, namelessness. My story
Could not be denied, rubbed out, but I have been. Silent and silenced.
Recognized, but unidentified. Priestess? Witch? Wise woman?
Ideal disciple? Was I an upperclass girl or a working girl?
I was initiating, empathetic, loving, bold.
Who do you say that I am?

Martha Kingman Spong
December 6, 2001

Monday, July 18, 2005

Tell Me About Yourself. . . .

Each of us have had expereiences in our lives that caused us to move towards ministry as a vocation. Did you have a mentor that challenged you? How has a Biblical figure, historical leader, or literary character proved to you that God can use women for great purposes in the church? Are you overcoming the negative words of someone else by leading a church?
Let me hear your story! Our words will inspire each other to continue on this path. . . .

Friday, July 15, 2005

What Are You Reading?

Please recommend great books that have helped shape your as a women in vocational ministry. We can use these lists to encourage each other and to offer great advice.

The Purpose

This blog is dedicated entirely to telling the stories of women in ministry. We can come together virtually to discover friends who partner with us globally to proclaim the truth of Christ. Most of all, we can discover that we are not alone.