Conversations at Midnight #1: Am I Permitted to Speak?

A motherly instinct led me to take on this project. In my earlier years, I had been terrified to write about female concerns in the Bible, feeling unqualified to join an academic discussion even scholars can’t agree on. That changed when my daughters enrolled in higher learning. The portraits of scriptural women were neither flattering nor accurate. We stumbled across passages that seemed to support misogyny and the suppression of female voices. As a child, my teachers had glossed over such perplexities, never digging in. As a mother, I became driven to make the answers I discovered accessible to my daughters and their peers.

I had contended with conventional norms since I was a young girl in church. This continued as a new bride, when I yearned to join my husband in ministry. Larry was already walking in leadership—first as a Youth With A Mission school and base leader, then as a licensed and ordained minister. Since there were questions I needed settled, I found it difficult to pivot with him. What was a helpmate? Would chief cook and bottle-washer be my only titles by divine decree? Were women allowed to have an individual ministry calling at the front of the church, not just the back?

I grew up with strict religious beliefs that demanded perfection. For a girl, that meant submission and quietness, qualities second only to virginity. In our circles, we read Ephesians 5 and other Bible passages through different lenses than the Greco‑Romans of 2,000 years ago. The very texts that empowered them silenced me. 

My childhood companions perceived me as a modern embodiment of the biblical woman. After turning 18, the boys lined up outside my door, asking for my hand in marriage. I would ask, Why do you want to marry me? Every time, the answer included, Because you are submissive. I understood. The boys and I shared the same upbringing, where society welcomed their voices, unlike the girls'. For many of them, an opinionated female was intimidating and a threat to their masculinity. Instead of viewing such women as equals, they were women who didn't know their place. Their place, at least in our circles, was behind the man or under his thumb. Friendships strained when my refusal wounded their feelings. Dating was stressful until I met Larry, a dashing Canadian who would woo my heart with his integrity and gentleness, and who had not grown up with the religious restrictions I had.

With few strong leads to guide me, I continued to wrestle with women’s issues as a young wife. Verse by verse, working through sacred texts, I encountered truths that changed my understanding of biblical womanhood. Slowly I grew in confidence and joined Larry in preaching, eldership and other leadership endeavors. 

Still, I had doubts, especially in my role as a wife. During the last phase of our formal ministry, an Immanuel prayer experience erased any doubts about whether my voice was welcome in the leadership of our home. I was uneasy about the conversation I knew I needed to have with my husband regarding an upcoming project. When I asked Jesus where the apprehension originated, a memory resurfaced from before we were married. I questioned a decision, and Larry responded with, God said it; we need to obey and not worry about the fallout.

His response was fair, but I lacked assurance. An apparition invaded the memory and placed an appendage over Larry’s and my linked arms, binding and immobilizing us. The face had no distinguishable features. Somehow I recognized it as the religious spirit that had demanded my silence for so many years.

My coach asked, What are you feeling? 

Like I’m under my father’s thumb, shot from my mouth. However, in my memory I heard myself say, Okay, we will stick to the plan.

Still in the memory, I cried out to Jesus, who appeared immediately. He occupied the same space as the dark figure, like one transparency laid over another. Happiness radiated from him. He took hold of our forearms and turned them over. I understood he was giving me permission to negotiate.

Truth dawned: the more I kept quiet, the more anxious I became. My silence also dissolved any personal responsibility for the direction we moved in as a couple. By default, Larry became the scapegoat when things went wrong. I became dependent, leaving my adult shoes outside the marriage.

Back in the present, I knew we needed a reset. Jesus' invitation to negotiate empowered me beyond words. I could now engage in meaningful conversation with my husband, not only in ministry but in the home.

I often wonder what damage is done when we suppress our voices? I hope these studies illuminate the need to bring each one to the table.

*Immanuel means “God with us.” This promise is finding a growing movement of lay ministers and professionals who are using the Immanuel approach to deepen intimacy with God, discern God's ongoing guidance, and resolve past pain. This method is based on current brain science interpreted through Scripture through the collaborative work of Dr Karl Lehman and Dr. E. James Wilder. For more information, check out www.immanuelapproach.com and the book, Immanuel Approach (to Emotional Healing and Life by Karl D. Lehman, M.D.