Unlike the other ladies in our nameless series, our lady in focus today is actually named!  I wanted to include her in the series, because I’d never heard her name until we went through Joshua during the very first summer study*. I’m writing about her here in the hopes she will no longer be nameless to you, as she is no longer to me.

Achsah is the only daughter of Caleb, one of the two spies who had faith in God and advocated for the Israelites to go into the promised land, despite the intimidating adversaries who occupied it. I’d encourage you to read the story in Numbers 12-13. Caleb was known as a man wholly devoted to God, so much so, that God gave him a special inheritance, which included part of the tribe of Judah’s lands (Joshua 14:6-15.) In Joshua 15:13-19, we come to the story of Achsah. Caleb promises her in marriage to whoever conquered the inhabitants of a place in the region named Kirath-sepher, also known as Debir. Othniel emerges victorious and wins the hand of Achsah. 

It might be tempting to think Achsah did not have a voice in this, if not for the following sentences. Let’s go slow motion through the next several verses. Scripture says she urged Othniel, her new husband, for a field from her father. (v18)

Then things get real. She gets off her donkey.

This gets the attention of Caleb who asks “What do you want?”

She replies “Give me a blessing. Since you have given me the land of the Negeb, give me also springs of water.”

We don’t know if there was any more to their exchange. If there was, Scripture doesn’t record it, but we do know the outcome. In verse 19, Joshua writes Caleb “gave her the upper springs and the lower springs.” 

As I’m reading this in my house, I can walk about 20 paces to get to water. We have it so easy. Water in Achsah’s time, in a purely agricultural society without the technology we have today to transport water, is vital. These springs are not just a hot commodity; they were life. They would irrigate her field. They would feed her family. Caleb did not hold back. He gave her not one, but two of these springs! The gift Achsah’s father gave her was life, and life abundantly.

Sound familiar? 

Jesus said this in John 10:10 “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Now, some who have written on Achsah say she was a discontent daughter who just wouldn’t leave well enough alone. They say she was greedy. She not only got a gallant husband, but a field, and not one, but two springs! Never satisfied. 

When we receive this water and own our identity as a daughter of the most worthy and good Father, we will have the confidence to come before Him to ask for everything we need.

I may be wrong here, but I beg to differ on this interpretation. It isn’t a far leap to put ourselves in the position of Achsah, because in Christ, our stories are the same! I am Achsah, and so are you! We are the daughters of a good (the best!) and devoted Father. He is worthy of our trust, and He has our good and His glory in mind. He has given us an inheritance (1 Peter 1:3-5)  and He has made us His children and fellow co-heirs with Christ (Romans 8:17.) He tells us to ask Him for what we need, as He is a father who gives good gifts (Matthew 7:7-12.)

And the good gift we receive from our Father is a spring of abundant and eternal life. To another nameless woman of the Bible, Jesus says “whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” (John 4:14)

When we receive this water and own our identity as a daughter of the most worthy and good Father, we will have the confidence to come before Him to ask for everything we need. We won’t be shy. We will get off our own donkeys and approach Him. We will draw near to ask and receive everything we need for life and godliness (2 Peter 1:3.)

Is it hard for you to ask God for His springs? Perhaps you see Him as stingy. Or maybe you are holding back because you have not yet fully comprehended His love for you, that overcame death to bring you life. 

As we like to say here at Dayton Women in the Word, Jesus is the true and better. He is the true and better Caleb. He is offering us His grace, His life. So now we draw near with confidence of His goodness and provision as Achsah did her father.

I invite you to stop, get off your own donkey, ask boldly, and receive. Isn’t it ironic that in our own English language, Achsah sounds kind of like “ask?” I hope this helps you remember her story, and encourage you that with a simple ask, it can become your own. 

*Listen to the lecture from week 8 of the DWITW Joshua summer study to learn more about Achsah.

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Jillian Vincent loves Jesus. She's a wife, a mother of boys, and a Dayton enthusiast. Jillian currently is a stay at home mama and spends nap times writing and discipling other women. She would (almost) die for an avocado, a cup of coffee made by her husband, a novel that makes her cry, and a bouquet of sunflowers.

“One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee's house and reclined at table. And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner." And Jesus answering said to him, "Simon, I have something to say to you." And he answered, "Say it, Teacher." "A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?" Simon answered, "The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt." And he said to him, "You have judged rightly." Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little." And he said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." Then those who were at table with him began to say among themselves, "Who is this, who even forgives sins?" And he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."” ‭‭Luke‬ ‭7:36-50‬ ‭ESV‬‬

She had heard He would be at Simon’s house. I can imagine her walking to the house, grief welling up, trying to find words that could carry the weight of her heart. And yet, standing at Jesus’ feet, any words she had found fell away with the tears that rolled from her cheeks. Tears mixed with the dust that still clung to His feet as He reclined at the table. A table to which she was uninvited. 

A lack of invitation did not hinder her. She needed to see Jesus. No one had to remind her she was a sinner. She knew it, and the knowledge ached beneath her skin. 

With a broken heart, the sinful woman knelt at Jesus’ feet in an unfettered act of worship and repentance. With her hair unbound, she wiped away the many tears that had fallen from her face to His feet. In reverence, she kissed them and anointed them with precious oil from a newly broken jar. With a posture of humility and desperation, she sought forgiveness for the sinfulness that had taken the place of her name. 

Every time I encounter the story of this unnamed woman, my heart breaks. This is a woman who realized the gravity of her sin, but in seeing the recognition of her own deep need of forgiveness, I am confronted by mine. We share a brokenness. The aching knowledge of my messes and terrible choices is thick. I have hurt others for my own gain, carried selfishness veiled with kind actions, and spoken gossip where encouragement belonged. I am in desperate need of mercy and forgiveness. Yet in this place of desperation, hope is not extinguished. No, it is given new life. Because of Jesus. 

Jesus dares to love with ferocity and mercy. He offered up His very life to make right all my wrongs - past, present, and future. He paid what I never could, and I know forgiveness because of Him. And in knowing I have been forgiven, how do I now love? The perspective that informs how I see my failings informs how greatly I love. As Jesus tells Simon, “But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” If I undervalue the cost of forgiveness, I love out of poverty. But if I see the price of forgiveness as dear, I love out of abundance. 

My sisters, what if we dared to seek Jesus with abandon as this forgiven woman did? What would our lives look like? What knowledge would our hearts hold? He awaits us with tenderness, with freedom, with peace.

Are we equally desperate to adore and celebrate the One who has intervened on our behalf and paid what we could not, who took on skin to save us? If not, what is holding us back?

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Robin Zastrow wants to live in a world where coffee never gets cold and kindness abounds. When she's not discovering the wonders of construction paper and cardboard tubes with her two little ones, you can find her sneaking in another few pages of a book or jotting down bits of writing on scraps of paper.

One of her favorite Scriptures is:“Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.” Psalm 33:20-22 ESV

When I say the word Song of Solomon, what comes to mind? If you are churched at all, perhaps you know it as the sex book of the Bible. Just me? I’ve thought of it as a little embarrassing to read maybe, and awkward to talk about in the church. My hypothesis is that it is easier to laugh off our discomfort about it than to fully investigate it. It is a recorded conversation between lovers in the Bible, and we are supposed to read the Bible,but I still feel like I’m witnessing something maybe I shouldn’t be. Isn’t it too intimate or personal? 

God is very purposeful with what He includes in Scripture. Paul writes this to Timothy in 2 Timothy 3:16-17: “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” In light of this verse, Song of Solomon is not just a few risque conversations between lovers; this book is breathed out by God for our benefit. So we should not only read the book, but dive in deep. And for the purpose of this post, explore who this nameless female lover and her words which take up half the book! 

*I’d encourage you to read the book in its entirety before continuing in this post.
It is 8 chapters, so it won’t take you long!*

Song of Solomon has many different interpretations. Some think it is all an allegory showcasing the love of God to His people. Some believe the book to be an anthology of sorts, a compilation of love poems or songs. Two more interpretations hold the thought that it is a story of love between a shepherdess and either a shepherd or King Solomon. 

What is not so debated, however, is the description of the “she” character in the book. The ESV Bible introduction states that she is “perhaps the most clearly drawn female character in the Bible.” 

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the does of the field, that you not stir up or awaken love until it pleases. Song of Solomon 2:7

So, who is she? A shepherdess, a country girl, a Shulammite woman, most likely from the village of Shunmen, a part of the northern kingdom. She is a lover. We would call her head over heels in love, but at the same time, she fights for a pure union with her lover. She is eager to marry this man, and to make love to him, but she wants to do this thing right (aka “do not stir up or awaken love until it pleases” Song of Solomon 2:7.) She tells others about her beloved, speaks of her admiration for him, and her desire for him. She is excited to give herself to him. (My beloved is mine, and I am his. Song of Solomon 2:16.) 

She not only gives this love, but receives it, as exemplified by the back and forth nature of the exchanges. Their love is public, clear for all to see. She states “He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.” (Song of Solomon 2:4) The word for banner here is only used once elsewhere in Scripture, in Numbers 2:2, as something flown to share the identity of an army in camps and battles. Their love, therefore, is declared and becomes a part of their identity and declares it to their enemies.

So we do not know the name of this shepherdess, but we do know her identity was rooted in love. As our identity can also be!

As I’ve been listening to the most recent series of the Dayton Women in the Word podcast, I was struck by how Kalie McDonald described the Gospel as the greatest love story. She quoted one of my favorite passages, Zephaniah 3:17 “The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” She described herself going on dates with God and described him as her husband, a way we can all describe Jesus! It delights me to witness her public passion for the greatest love of her life.

For your Maker is your husband, the Lord of hosts is his name; and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer, the God of the whole earth he is called. Isaiah 54:5

Our marriage with the Lord is a refrain throughout the entirety of Scripture. God describes Himself as our Husband (Isaiah 54:5,) He calls the church His bride (Ephesians 5:25,) and He wants us to own and act upon our identity as His beloved (1 John 4:7-12.) I remember all we learned in our Hosea summer study, about how God relentlessly pursues us, and restores us from us from adulterous sinner to His beloved bride. Like the shepherdess, we too will be attending a wedding banquet with our bridegroom, the wedding feast of the Lamb (Revelation 19:6-9.) 

In the garden, Adam and Even walked in this perfect love. They were naked and felt no shame (Gen 2:25.) I’ve heard it said that in Christ, we are “fully known and fully loved.” They were living with the Lord and flourishing under his good plan for this earth. When they sinned, their intimacy with God was wrecked, and their intimacy with each other as well. 

In Song of Solomon, I see a woman described with delight. I see two lovers obeying God, living according to His boundaries for sex and freely enjoying each other within them. I see no shame described. They are flourishing and free. Although interpretations differ on this specific book, we do know that marriage is the way God wants us to understand His relationship with us. As I read about the shepherdess in Song of Solomon, I feel an invitation to accept (without blushing!) God’s delight in me, His Bride. I feel the invitation to walk in the identity of love He has placed on my life and to feast with Him at the table. I want to obey Him to keep our marriage pure because I made a covenant to Him, and He to me. 

How would you describe Jesus if you were the shepherdess, describing her lover? What would you say? Write? We often annotate the attributes of God in our studies. Why not make it a love letter, and why not share it with others? I believe when we accept the love of Jesus, we won’t be able to help but brag on our Husband. It might seem too good to be true, but the reality is, it is TRUE. Others may think they are witnessing something too personal, but you will show them anyway because you want them to have intimacy with God like you do. 

And if you don’t know Jesus this way yet, it’s time to embrace the love He has for you. His desire is for you to be His. He is eagerly awaiting His bride, and we eagerly await Him.

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Jillian Vincent loves Jesus. She's a wife, a mother of boys, and a Dayton enthusiast. Jillian currently is a stay at home mama and spends nap times writing and discipling other women. She would (almost) die for an avocado, a cup of coffee made by her husband, a novel that makes her cry, and a bouquet of sunflowers.

They went each to his own house, but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and taught them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continue to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus stood up and said to her, Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go and from now on sin no more.” John 7:53-8:11 

I spend a lot of time thinking about dignity. As the writer for Back2Back Ministries*, a global orphan care ministry,  the bulk of my job is sharing stories of growth and triumph from cyclical trauma on behalf of vulnerable populations.  And I consider every word carefully. One of the house rules at Back2Back is to ask oneself, “if the subject of this story heard it read aloud, would they feel shame? Embarrassment? Pride?” I work for an organization who is diligent about showing smiling faces and providing the hope that comes after hurt. And when I read this passage about the adulterous woman, I know confidently I walk with a Father who is also in the business of  not only focusing on the hope, but gives it, and He removes our hurt. A Father who provides dignity to populations who may not know it well. And He takes these positions seriously.  

I walk with a Father who is also in the business of  not only focusing on the hope, but gives it, and He removes our hurt.

As I read this passage of Scripture, I consider the adulterous woman. I imagine the Pharisees winging her into the center of a large crowd and scoffing. If I were in her position, I’d likely be trying to fold in on myself as much as possible – cowering, arms crossed over my body, doing anything I could to make myself smaller amidst the crowd. Her heart must’ve been beating so fast, trying her best not to imagine the ping of stones against her flesh, wondering how long it would take before she’d draw her last breath. And all the while, I imagine the crowd was jeering and taunting.

Can you imagine the isolation and fear she must’ve felt? 

And this is what shame in the place of dignity does to us, sisters. You may never have cheated on your husband or significant other, but I imagine we can all recall a moment where we were publicly called out for sin. In these moments, our fear brain whispered to us, “you’re the only unclean one here, girl – everyone knows it’s true.”

Jesus then does what He always does – gently reminds those Pharisees they’re no worse or better than the woman they’re wishing to condemn. “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.”

Now that’s a mic drop, if I’ve ever heard one.

Jesus doesn’t point His finger at each of the Pharisees and list their indiscretions aloud for all to hear – even though He could have.

Jesus doesn’t further shame the adulterous woman with her additional sins that the crowd doesn’t know – even though He could have.

Jesus doesn’t yell or criticize or lose His cool over a crew of bros trying to tell Him how to do His work on this side of Heaven – even though He could have.

He just calls it like it is – you boys with clean hands? Go ahead, throw the stones. And one by one, they walk away, until it’s just the woman and Jesus. He asks where they’ve all gone, asks who condemned her, and she says, “No one, my Lord.” 

“Me, either,” He responds. “Go. . .”

With just a few sentences, He provided dignity for a woman who believed she was going to be publicly chastised and stoned to death.

I empathize with this woman. It’s not a good feeling when our sin is called out publicly. However, she isn’t necessarily who I’m wanting to model after reading this story.  

It’s our Savior.

He has all the information. He knows all the mishaps. He has an ongoing record of every wrong committed. Yet He offers grace and dignity.

He doesn’t put the Pharisees on blast, He simply reminds them they’re not so pure.

He doesn’t encourage the crowd to do what the Law commanded of them, He just asks who’s gonna throw the first stone.

He doesn’t even lecture the woman at fault, He just asks who condemned her after all the hullabaloo.

He is gracious, tender, forgiving, and He seeks to restore the dignity with which He made each of us.

May we all be so, when dealing with other humans. May we each remember everyone has a past. May we recall the times we were called out, and how it felt. May we always know that no matter the story, no matter the history, no matter the sins, everyone deserves dignity. 

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. - Genesis 1:27

*For more information about this ministry, visit https://back2back.org.

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Steph Duff wants to live in a world where every human, whether small or regular-sized, learns to use their voice and is seen and known. When she's not traveling and story telling with Back2Back Ministries, you'll likely find her drinking excessive cups of coffee, with her nose in a book, or daydreaming about India. Her favorite scripture is Habakkuk 1:5, and she prays for a world in which Jesus is the name on every lip. Learn a little more about her love for semi-colons, what stirs her blood, and the yearnings of her heart over at www.stephaniduff.wordpress.com.

Imagine with me you’re a woman living in ancient Israel. There’s a famine happening, because there’s a war happening. Your Syrian neighbors to the north have been battling against your home country and trying to invade your city. Food is scarce. You can’t remember the last time you’ve eaten. You’ve got at least one son, and your husband is likely out fighting in the war. You’ve got to figure out how to keep yourself alive. 

Nothing’s being harvested in the fields, and no new wine is being pressed. Prices for food are sky high. People have resorted to selling unclean animals, like donkeys, in parts for consumption. The thought of eating a donkey’s head would normally make you cringe, but right now, you’d eat anything.

You’re in agony. You’re hungry - deeply, desperately hungry like you’ve never been before. So hungry you consider doing things you never thought you’d do. 

In 2 Kings 6, we find one such woman. She and another unnamed woman are so desperate for food they make a pact to eat their sons - one that very night, and one the next day.

Things don’t turn out the way she planned, though. We meet her as she is crying out for help to Jehoram, the King of Israel:

“Now as the king of Israel (Jehoram) was passing by on the wall, a woman cried out to him, saying, ‘Help, my lord, O king!’ And he said, “If the Lord will not help you, how shall I help you? From the threshing floor, or from the winepress?’ And the king asked her, ‘What is your trouble?’ She answered, ‘This woman said to me, “Give your son, that we may eat him today, and we will eat my son tomorrow.” So we boiled my son and ate him. And on the next day I said to her, “Give your son, that we may eat him.” But she has hidden her son.’ When the king heard the words of the woman, he tore his clothes..” (2 Kings 6:26-30)

What a devastating story. A family wrecked by war and famine, two desperate women, and a helpless king driven into continual mourning. The woman came to him looking for justice, but the golden era of wise and just Israeli kings had passed. The king entertained her question, but provided no solution. Her story broke him and pushed him over the edge. He was openly wrecked by the state of his nation.

The idea (and even more so, the reality) of cannibalism sends shivers down our spines. How could a mother even think of eating her son? How could the second mother in the story eat someone else’s child? We are so far removed from this kind of famine we cannot understand their level of hopelessness and hunger. 

I find that in times when I am overwhelmed, confused, shocked, or even disgusted by God’s Word, I need to search the Bible for more. I need a fuller picture. I need context. When I encountered this passage, I wondered, “What else does God say about this?” 

I found an answer in Leviticus 26:27-29:

“But if in spite of this you will not listen to me, but walk contrary to me, then I will walk contrary to you in fury, and I myself will discipline you sevenfold for your sins. You shall eat the flesh of your sons and you shall eat the flesh of your daughters.”

Woah. 

When God gave His people the law, He clearly laid out His responses to their actions. If the people obeyed the law, they would experience God’s blessing. If they turned away from Him in rebellion, they would experience His punishment. Along with famine, disease, war, and destruction, cannibalism is mentioned in the long list of curses for disobeying God’s law (Lev. 26 and Deut. 28:53-57.) 

God was not surprised to see those two unnamed women make their grievous deal. He warned His people about it hundreds of years before. He spoke of cannibalism explicitly through the prophet Jeremiah and the writer of Lamentations (Jer. 19:9, Lam. 2:20, 4:10.) He even said that ears of all who heard about these things would tingle (Jer. 19:3.) The cannibalism in this story was the result of Israel’s collective rejection of God.

It’s not that these women were horrible, cold, vicious, or unfeeling. In fact, God said “the most tender and refined woman” would succumb to distress and resort to eating her child under the curse (Deut. 28:56.) Lamentations says “the hands of compassionate women have boiled their own children” (Lam. 4:10.) These weren’t careless mothers. 

He’s our daily bread, our sustenance, satisfying every desperate craving and depraved thought…the source of our hope and turns our mourning into dancing.

Israel, as a nation, made a covenant with God to walk in His ways. They promised to follow His plan for a flourishing life (the law,) and in return, He promised never to leave them or forsake them. But, they broke the covenant over and over, and as a result, they bore the consequences over and over. The woman in our story, along with the rest of God’s people, collectively bore the curse for deserting the one true God. Breaking relationship with God has serious consequences, both then and now.

We don’t hear anything more in the passage about what happened to the woman. We know her life was broken and her community was suffering. We know she endured great loss. We also know the Lord brought miraculous economic recovery to Samaria the very next day through the words of Elisha (2 Kings 7.) So maybe she was able to eat again, and maybe her husband came back from war, but my guess is that if she lived, she lived under guilt and shame for her actions toward her son - the guilt and shame of the curse. 

But unlike the woman, who could only look forward to a coming Messiah, we have a Savior, a Snake Crusher - Jesus Christ of Nazareth. He became a curse for us and redeemed us from the law (Gal. 3:13.) He kept our side of the covenant perfectly. He was rejected by God the Father, that we might be accepted and blessed. He gave us His Spirit, who helps us to listen to and walk with God. He’s our daily bread, our sustenance, satisfying every desperate craving and depraved thought. He is the source of our hope and turns our mourning into dancing (Ps. 30:11.) 

May we live with an awareness of our Great God and all of His blessings. May we dance at the thought of the lifted curse! May we believe with faith that Jesus is coming again to make all of the wrong things right and the sad things untrue. May we leave strange passages of Scripture like this one with hope, believing that Jesus has or will redeem it all.

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Meditations on Mark 7:24-30 and Matthew 15:21-28.

I remember studying about this Syrophoenician/Caananite woman during the Mark summer study. This is one of those stories I always glimpsed through but never really understood. Is Jesus really calling her a dog? This is a little more than unsettling. And she is agreeing with Him? I kind of want to defend her. 

Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian Sythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.
Colossians 3:11

If ever there was a case for the metanarrative, this is it. I don’t believe we can understand this story without first understanding the Old Testament’s stories of a chosen people (the Israelites) and the good news of the Gospel and what that means for Gentiles like the Syrophoenician woman (and myself and probably you too.) It is also a case for context, because upon further study, we find that Jesus was in Tyre and Sidon, a primarily Gentile region. As Jesus was a Jew, He was pursuing Gentiles by taking His ministry and influence into their territory. Although the word dog is unsettling to us, Jesus’ actions show a clear pursuit to those previously considered “unchosen.” His character is consistent. He is the Good Shepherd going after the stray sheep.

In my ESV Study Bible, it gives interpretation for each part of this conversation between Jesus and the woman. It says the bread represents Jesus’ message, the children are the Jews, and the dogs are the Gentiles. God chose a people for Himself. This started with Abraham and his descendants (Genesis 15) who later made up the nation and people of Israel. When Christ came, He grafted the Gentiles into the same promises He gave to the Israelites (Colossians 3:11, Ephesians 2:11-22, Galatians 3:28.) We were adopted into the family of God. So now, we are not the dogs waiting for the crumbs. We can feast on the Bread of Life Himself, seated at the table as part of the family of God! 

In this account in both Matthew and Mark, we have a woman in desperation. She is pleading for deliverance from a demon for her daughter. After this curious conversation between the woman and Jesus, He graciously grants her what she is asking. This story, although only six and seven odd verses respectively in each gospel, is a huge foreshadowing of a much greater deliverance, one open to all people. 

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
Galatians 3:28

Jesus came not just for the Jew but for the Gentile. Additionally, in a male dominant culture, this is yet another account of Jesus caring about women and showing that His grace, healing, and relationship is not only for men, but for women as well. 

There was hope for the Syrophoenician woman and her daughter when there seemed like there was no hope.

There is hope for all of us.

I invite you to meditate on the above mentioned passages in Ephesians, Colossians, and Galatians with me today. I pray we have the faith and humility to see our rightful place and also see how Jesus traded us our rightful place for His. May we never get over the beauty of that truth. We have a new identity, a new birthright, a new family. We who were once far off have now been brought near. Ah, the nearness of Christ! When we accept this new reality, I believe evil will flee from us just as it did from the household of this humble woman.

See yourself in the place of the Syrophoenician woman. We have much in common with her. I am also a Gentile and in great need. Jesus pursued me, meeting me where I was at, to bring me His deliverance. He saw me begging for scraps and called me into a great feast. 

If you feel like you are undeserving of God’s grace, well that is true. I don’t say that to put you down. I’m here with you. One of my favorite lyrics from Relient K is “the beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair.” It is humbling, but without Jesus, we don’t have a seat at the table. However with Jesus, we are coheirs with Christ! What a miracle!

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called “the uncircumcision” by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands— remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. So then you are no longer strangers and aliens,1 but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into la holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

Ephesians 2:11-22

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Jillian Vincent loves Jesus. She's a wife, a mother of boys, and a Dayton enthusiast. Jillian currently is a stay at home mama and spends nap times writing and discipling other women. She would (almost) die for an avocado, a cup of coffee made by her husband, a novel that makes her cry, and a bouquet of sunflowers.

Soon afterward, Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, “Don’t cry.” Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, get up!” The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother. They were all filled with awe and praised God. “A great prophet has appeared among us,” they said. “God has come to help his people.” This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country. - ‭‭Luke‬ ‭7:11-17‬ ‭NIV‬‬

It’s name meaning “beauty,” Nain lay not too distant from Nazareth, another little village in the region of Galilee. At the town gate, we meet a widow as she leads the funeral procession for her only son, walking his body outside the bounds of their village to be buried. Our introduction to this nameless woman is made by way of her loss. She has lost her husband, and now her only son. She is a woman known by her sorrow. She is not alone in her grieving, but it has named her in a way unlike any other in that procession. 

I can’t help but wonder if the disciples and crowd accompanying Jesus tried to give a wide berth to the widow and her company, wanting to distance themselves from the grieving. Were they discussing Jesus’ recent healing of the centurion’s servant (Luke 7:1-10)? Or some other event or teaching they had experienced in following Jesus? Regardless, Jesus was not interested in just passing by this widow. 

Where the end seemed inevitable, the outcome decided, hope met the widow unexpectedly; Jesus entered her story.

He went to her, forging a path between the two crowds. He offered her comfort in a simple, tender phrase. Then He touched the bier. Jesus not only saw and acknowledged the widow’s grief, He stopped and tangibly entered into it. The threat of impurity did not impede His compassion nor stall His hand. He was not afraid. His heart moved Him to action, and with a single command the widow’s son spoke, moved, lived! 

In the span of a breath, that which the widow lost was returned. She could remember the past without the twofold weight of heartbreak and dare to look to the future without fear. In resurrecting one life, Jesus restored two. For in those days, a son would take on the role as provider for a widowed mother. Without a husband or a son to care for her, a woman depended entirely on the charity of others as she could inherit no land and had no means of sustaining herself. As a widow, to lose an only son was not just to suffer the loss of a dear child, but the loss of your own life in many ways as well. 

In Luke’s account of this encounter between Jesus and the widow of Nain, the widow is attributed no words of her own. The crowd together marveled and glorified God declaring he “has come to help his people” (vs. 16) after the deceased young man is given life again, but the widow is without an individual voice. She did not call out to Jesus as He approached the town, she did not plead with Him for a miracle, or profess her faith in His power to heal. Jesus came to her aside from any single action on her part. When things seemed darkest for this nameless woman, when she was at her most powerless, that is when He made His way to her. Not because she asked. Not because she believed. But because Jesus saw her and had compassion.

For death cannot swallow our hope nor any grave hide the true, glorious light that is Jesus.

Where the end seemed inevitable, the outcome decided, hope met the widow unexpectedly; Jesus entered her story. 

We meet her in the midst of the unknown, on the cusp of a miracle. We are privy to but a moment, a moment where grace intercedes and the brilliance of God’s kingdom shines through. We get to see the widow’s story in light of not only what was lost, but what was restored at the hands of a merciful Christ. For death cannot swallow our hope nor any grave hide the true, glorious light that is Jesus. 

And it is that True Light that pursues you even now. Jesus seeks to meet us in the midst of the pain we carry today. Whatever it may be, it is not too much for Him. It is not too dark or unclean. He will not turn away from you. He will dare to rest his hand on your sorrow and meet your gaze with hope. He longs to give you life. His life. His resurrection is yours.

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Robin Zastrow wants to live in a world where coffee never gets cold and kindness abounds. When she's not discovering the wonders of construction paper and cardboard tubes with her two little ones, you can find her sneaking in another few pages of a book or jotting down bits of writing on scraps of paper.

One of her favorite Scriptures is:“Our soul waits for the Lord; he is our help and our shield. For our heart is glad in him, because we trust in his holy name. Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you.” Psalm 33:20-22 ESV

And a great crowd followed Him and thronged about Him. And there was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and who had suffered much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and was no better but rather grew worse. She had heard reports about Jesus and came up behind Him in the crowd and touched His garment. For she said, “if I touch even His garments, I will be made well.” And immediately the flow of blood dried up, and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. And Jesus, perceiving in Himself that power had gone out of Him, immediately turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my garments?” . . . But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling and fell down before Him and told Him the whole truth. And He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” – Mark 5: 24-34

There are parts of me that can sympathize with the bleeding woman. When you’re a 30-something trying to responsibly treat chronic anxiety, finding a doctor who really listens can be difficult and tiring. And while I was never physically worse in the midst of my search for it, I felt emotionally worn every time a name brand med, with a long list of side effects, was suggested. I just want to feel better, I would cry out to Jesus. I’ll be frank – I still cry this out – even after finding an amazing doctor who listened to my concerns, there are still days I want stronger medicine or a supernatural cure. 

We live in a broken world, which means physical, emotional, and mental ailments are a reality we weren’t ever supposed to know, but which we inevitably endure. I imagine myself as the woman who bled for years, frantic in her search to get just one look at He who was miraculously healing. I imagine the sweat on her upper lip, moving through a crowd of people who felt their need was stronger, more immediate, than the hundreds surrounding them.

Although I sympathize with her, I also feel great divides of difference. In the height of mental illness, I’m not sure a small grasp of a garment would’ve been enough for me . . . I imagine the desire I would have, had I had physical access to Jesus like she did. I would yell through the crowds, making my voice louder than those around me – “Jesus! Jesus, I need your help! I need you to fix me.” And if I would’ve gotten time with Him face-to-face, after He would whisper to me, “you are healed,” I would chase after Him, again.

“But wait, like really? I mean – I know you’re Jesus, but is this a lifetime guarantee situation? Like how certain are You this anxiety goblin is gone for good?” 

The nameless woman in Mark, however, rests confidently in who Jesus is and of what He is capable. I just need to touch the fabric covering His body. She wasn’t drawing attention to herself, she wasn’t making her voice louder than those surrounding her, she wasn’t jumping up and down – she moved quickly and quietly to get to Him. What would the world look like if we all operated like this? Instead of drawing attention to ourselves and our personal ailments, what if we simply took them to the feet of Jesus? 

Our Jesus felt power leave His body. As the nameless woman feels herself healing, Jesus knows something has occurred.

She reached for His garment and immediately felt relief. No questions, no conversation, no wondering if this would actually hold out for the rest of her days. And let’s be honest, this whole occurrence is miraculous, but what happens next is actually my favorite . . .

Our Jesus felt power leave His body. As the nameless woman feels herself healing, Jesus knows something has occurred. He could’ve kept walking – I’m sure He was being touched and grabbed at in every direction, but He stopped. He looked at His guys and said, “Who touched me?”

This is who Jesus is, sisters. He feels our need for Him, even as the needs of hundreds of others surround Him.

She comes forward then, frightened at being found out, possibly feeling guilty for not greeting Him formally before seeking restoration. And then He utters words we all long for. Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed from your disease. (v34)

Ya’ll, we do not need fancy jobs or expensive cars to be known by Jesus. We do not need to set out a red carpet or parade for Him to heal and restore. It doesn’t matter to Him if we are overweight, underweight, or never manage to brush our hair before leaving the house. He will take us single, divorced, confused, and broken – because He does not care about labels. To the world, she will only ever be known as the Bleeding Woman – nameless to anyone who reads the Gospels.

But to Jesus? She is His child.

And her circumstances may be unlike than yours today, but our stories aren’t all that different – she was a human, with ailments, in need of recovery. She felt unseen, unknown, and desperate for relief. So, she sought the One who rights all wrongs, trusted that when He said, “you are not hidden,” He certainly meant it, and reached for Him in her time of need. 

He knows you, right this moment, and what you need, just like He knew her, right that moment, and what she needed. And He will provide.

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Steph Duff wants to live in a world where every human, whether small or regular-sized, learns to use their voice and is seen and known. When she's not traveling and story telling with Back2Back Ministries, you'll likely find her drinking excessive cups of coffee, with her nose in a book, or daydreaming about India. Her favorite scripture is Habakkuk 1:5, and she prays for a world in which Jesus is the name on every lip. Learn a little more about her love for semi-colons, what stirs her blood, and the yearnings of her heart over at www.stephaniduff.wordpress.com.

In Exodus 35, we see a community coming together to build the tabernacle of the Lord. The writer mentions “everyone” several times, and other times specifically mentions the women and their specific contribution. These women remain nameless, but are known for their abundant generosity (v5,) the stewardship of their God-given skills (v 10 and v25,) their stirred/moved hearts (v21,26,29,) and their willingness to work for the Lord (v29.) 

To give  context, if we back up in Exodus to chapter 34, we read  God has just renewed His covenant with His people. He’s given the ten commandments to Moses to give to his people on Mt. Sinai. Moses saw the glory of God and his face shone as a result. He gives them instructions for how to practice Sabbath. Afterwards, God commands them to set up a tabernacle where He would meet with them and the place where He would accept sacrifice for their sin and restore them to Himself. 

I see in these women the hope of glory Paul talks about in Colossians 1:27. The tabernacle gave opportunity for God’s people to meet with Him. They saw the hope of God’s glory etched in Moses’ very face. So they worked with everything God had given them, and out of their stirred, moved, willing, and generous hearts, they brought glory to God through their obedience. 

In John 1:14, we read, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” The word “dwelt” literally means “tabernacled.” Jesus came to tabernacle with us.

God has built His tabernacle within us. He is IN us! This is our hope of glory…

In the Old Testament, these women worked to build the tabernacle for God’s glory. Now, God has built His tabernacle within us. He is IN us! This is our hope of glory, and it is in this hope that we do the same as these women did. We generously give what we have been given. We allow God to move and stir our hearts. We are willing to obey. We use our skills and gifts and resources to glorify God. Why? Because it is the natural outpouring of the Holy Spirit’s presence in the tabernacle of our hearts. We have the hope of glory, and we want others to see our lives and to share in this hope. 

So this passage begs these questions. Are we willing? What has God given us, and how are we using it? In 1 Corinthians 10:31, Paul instructs us to do everything to the glory of God. Like these women mentioned in Exodus, are there ways in which we could join our gifts together with God’s church to glorify God? 

I love how this account is found after God’s instructions for rest. We, too, work to the glory of God from our rest---rest in the gospel! Let’s remember the work on the cross is finished, and now, we work from a place of a great hope in the good news of Jesus! We “get to” glorify God, together, as an offering of worship for what He has done for us. So let’s say “yes Lord!” and get to work!

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Jillian Vincent loves Jesus. She's a wife, a mother of boys, and a Dayton enthusiast. Jillian currently is a stay at home mama and spends nap times writing and discipling other women. She would (almost) die for an avocado, a cup of coffee made by her husband, a novel that makes her cry, and a bouquet of sunflowers.