Commission on Biblical Gender Equality

After receiving the MDiv degree from Fuller Seminary in 2013, Debbie Montzingo served Renew Covenant Church as Associate Pastor. Currently she serves as an itinerant preacher in the greater Seattle area while awaiting full-time call to a church. Debbie has raised three brave children who love Jesus and refuse to accept easy answers. Shoreline Covenant Church in Shoreline, WA, is where she and her husband Darrel currently find home.

My 26-year-old daughter—a novelist, screenwriter, and artist—has nearly always been a person of faith, but she has struggled with church her whole life. When she was very young, she would volunteer in the nursery, even though she didn’t particularly like children, just so she didn’t have to sit in the service.

But recently in her adopted city of Nashville, she found a church that made sense to her. The worship and preaching made sense to her. The value tangibly expressed towards art and creativity made sense to her. The teaching on mercy and justice made sense to her. The idea that with God leading the way, even a single person could make a discernible difference in the world made sense to her. She sent me links to sermons that had made her think. It all made so much sense to her that she signed up for the membership class.

And then she read the membership covenant.

The scary language about giving the church leadership nearly blanket authority over its members aside, she realized something that didn’t otherwise seem obvious: this church specifically excluded women from positions of pastoral leadership, claiming that the Bible required it. Just a few years before, my daughter had said, “If I really believed the Bible said that women could not serve the church in the same ways that men could, I am not sure I could still be a Christian.” I was angry. She finally finds a church home and immediately encounters a stumbling block.

Publicly, she asked some pointed questions. The elders leading the meeting were visibly uncomfortable, but they held their position. She said, “So you’re telling me, if you had, say, a Pastor of Missions position open, and my mother, who is a preacher and a pastor, wanted to apply for the job, you wouldn’t even consider her application?” Yes, they said, still uncomfortable, that’s correct. They said they would be willing to meet with her privately to discuss it further.

She called me, and I encouraged her to read The Blue Parakeet, by Scot McKnight, as a sort of easy entry primer on how you can read the Bible more faithfully and affirm women in ministry. She downloaded it immediately and started reading it. “How can I change their minds?” she asked. Well, I said, I don’t think you can. They will probably be polite and listen, but in the end you will not be the one to change their minds.

But she would not be deterred by my cautions. She had learned something from their very teaching from the pulpit about the power of even one person forging forward in the cause of justice in the power of God. She said, “What if I’m the one God uses to plant the seeds of change? What if they never hear a dissenting voice?” She scheduled the meeting and asked them to read The Blue Parakeet.

One of the elders met with her. He already had a copy of The Blue Parakeet in his hands when she arrived. He said to her, “We really believe that we would be unfaithful to Scripture to change our minds. We know we are losing good people because of our position, but if we change our minds about this, what are we saying about the authority of the Bible? So we really hope that we can find a way to read Scripture differently.”

Wait, what? Oh, me of little faith.

Now, they haven’t changed their position (yet), but she got them into dialogue. She didn’t become a member of the church, but she is volunteering in some of their ministries and remaining involved.

Beloved daughter, don’t listen to me when the Spirit’s voice is so compelling. Be bold, be brave, and be kind. Maybe you are in Nashville for such a time as this. Why not you?

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Evelmyn Ivens works at the Christian Community Development Association (CCDA) in Chicago and graduated from North Park Theological Seminary in 2013 with a MA in Theological Studies. Evelmyn was born in Mexico and moved to the United States during her teenage years; she has lived in Los Angeles, CA, Washington, DC, and Chicago, IL. Enjoys traveling and learning about other cultures. She’s passionate about issues of immigration, hunger, poverty, and human trafficking.

A couple of weeks ago I was on a panel and I’ve known for a while that the other three participants were men, however, it really didn’t hit until the night before. As I was preparing and reviewing notes I also started to think what would I wear? A thought that may seem superficial, yet, for women even these details are part of a process. I was going to be in front of an audience with two pastors and an executive director. I needed to look casual but not too casual, not too overdressed but neither underdressed, just enough jewelry and what kind of jewelry? Would I wear heels or not? Clothes, shoes, jewelry, accessories, etc. they all make a statement, and off course I wanted to make a statement. I wanted to look as someone who knew about the topic. I in fact know a whole lot about the topic to be presented at the panel; yet, we live in a society where women have to present themselves in a certain way to be respected and to be taken seriously. Sometimes even age is a factor, about two years ago I was teaching a class and on the first day of class, one of the students said to me, “Oh, we thought our professor would be an older woman.” It took weeks before the students, who were older than me would believe what I said, or that I in fact had the credentials to be teaching that class.

The most sexism I have experienced has happened in church and in Christian organizations, sad isn’t? I’ve seen male Christian leaders feel intimidated by highly educated women, they just don’t know how to interact around these women. I have felt so frustrated in situations like this because church and Christian organizations are supposed to be this safe place for women in leadership; however, sometimes it becomes a hostile place.

Then in those moments of frustration I read stories like Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz’s story. One of the best-known Mexican writers, poets, and philosopher. Juana de Abasaje was born in central Mexico in 1648, and according to Mexican author Carlos Fuentes; she was probably an illegitimate child. When she was seven years old, she asked her mother to let her dress as a boy so that she could attend the university. She made her way to the university and there she impressed her professors, Juana was an intellectual who seemed to know everything, even though she faced many restrictions in both the political and religious settings. Juana decided to become a nun, in the hopes to find refuge and autonomy to write. It is then that she becomes Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. In her cell at the San Jerónimo convent in Mexico City, Sor Juana collected more than 4,000 volumes. There she could write in freedom, with discipline and wisdom. At the end even her cell couldn’t protect her from male dominant and orthodox authority, at the hands of the Archbishop of Mexico, Aguiar y Seixas. At 40 years of age Sor Juana was banned from her library, and was silenced for speaking up her mind. She died in 1695 at 47; however, her work defeated those who silenced her. Sor Juana’s baroque poetry transcended time, and today she is known as a foundational figure of feminism in the Americas.

Figures like Sor Juana, give me hope, also gives me hope male friends who continue to advocate for me, and for other women in ministry and in leadership.

I pray that in those moments of frustration, we can find peace and comfort. Amen.

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Nilwona Nowlin currently serves as the Administrative Specialist for Governance for the ECC and is a member of the Christian Community Development Association and the Redbud Writers Guild. In her “spare time,” she teaches workshops about living successfully as an introvert. Nilwona is a member of the Kingdom Covenant Church (Chicago) launch team and randomly blogs about random things at thedreamerspeaks.

Last month, while listening to a sermon, I found myself reflecting on my weakness and the power that lies within it. Of course, I blogged about my thoughts. I decided to share the post here for two reasons: 1) because I want to challenge you to rethink your understanding of “weakness,” particularly in the context of a society (and Church) that still refers to women as “the weaker sex” and 2) because the sermon that sparked my moment of reflection was preached by a woman.

The original post is below.

I am black. I am a woman. I am a black woman. I have chronic illnesses and a disability. I am an introvert. I look much younger than I am so am often assumed to be “young.” I grew up poor. I am a great big ball of “socially undesirable.” Since God knew me before I was even a thought to my parents, I must assume that God also knew that I would be made up of all of society’s less desirable parts. Yes, I am also made in the image of God, but society doesn’t often acknowledge (or care about) that part of me.

Believe it or not, all of these thoughts came to me as I was sitting in a chapel service at work, listening to a sermon being preached by a friend and colleague. Her message was based on the passage in 1 Corinthians 12 where Paul talks about the many members of the body of Christ. She highlighted how Paul places emphasis on the fact that the “weaker” parts of the body are just as important as the others. It was her emphasis on weakness that got my brain to wandering.

The pinky toe is seen by most as a weaker body part – good for nothing more than running into tables and bedposts in the middle of the night and channeling some of the worst pain imaginable. However, the pinky toe plays an important role in providing balance to the body. It is the same for the members of the body of Christ (and society) who are on the margins and often considered non-essential. They are valuable in ways that we take for granted or may never know if we don’t embrace them fully.

I embody weakness in a number of ways. Because of this, I have experienced pain, shame and isolation. But my lived experiences have made me more sensitive to those around me who are going through similar experiences. It has better enabled me to effectively operate within the body of Christ as a mercy shower – as the heart, if you will. As I operate in this area of giftedness, I am then reminded of Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12, that God’s power is made strong in our weakness.

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Rev. Cathy Kaminski is the lead pastor at Trinity Community Church in Cincinnati, OH. She hasn’t always been a Covenanter, but is now thankful to call the ECC home. Fueled by lots of coffee, Cathy enjoys writing, reading, and being in the community.

It’s safe to assume that we all know the power in affirmation. The most basic definition is emotional support or encouragement. Ever had a bad day? How does a positive word change that? Ever feel discouraged? What happens when someone intentionally tells you how you are exceeding? These words breathe life into a weary soul.

But affirmation is more than that. Words of support and encouragement can mean the difference between persevering and giving up. They can empower us, but their absence can debilitate us. When we fail to recognize their power, we miss opportunities to love those around us and we can also be tempted to lose sight of our own calling.

Think about it this way: journey with me back to a time of traperkeepers and sharpened pencils. Middle school. We loved it…well, perhaps not. After all, the emotional pendulum swing of our adolescence hinged on the acceptance or rejection of our peers. One negative word could catapult us into an orbit of social stigmatism. Or conversely something as simple as an invitation to a lunch table could set you on a course towards popularity. Maybe I’m making this too simple, but I can’t help but see the tremendous influence of the people in our world. Not only on the direction of our lives, but our own levels of confidence.

This principle does not change as we get older, but it does look differently. In my own life words of affirmation put me on a path towards God’s calling. I did not have a strong conviction for women in ministry. I had more doubt than I like to admit. Yet voices from my community opened my eyes to God. Voices that encouraged my leadership. Support that fueled my obedience to service. Words of truth that empowered me to be the person God created me to be.

In the same way, at a later season in life, absence of affirmation sent me on a downward spiral of fear and questioning. I almost walked away from ministry because of the lack of support and encouragement. How could I have such little faith? I don’t think that was it. We NEED support from our community. We are not meant to live lives of obedience alone. And we don’t just need these voices, we need to BE these voices to others.

When the Apostle Paul writes to the church in Thessalonica about building one another up, this is more than encouragement, (1 Thessalonians 5). It is a charge! To be the church we must build one another up as indeed we are already doing. We must see the power in our words and actions and seek to speak truth that empowers those around us. We must see the words of criticism that cut and seek to be voices that heal. Voices that encourage. Voices that point others towards Christ. For this is all of our calls, our privilege, our duty. To speak love and mercy and equip others for lives of service. So go ahead, invite someone to your lunch table. See what happens!

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Mandi Cherico is a third year M.Div student at North Park Theological Seminary in Chicago. Born on the East Coast and raised in the Midwest, her interests include feminism, aesthetics, and Beyonce.

The story of Rachel often gets hijacked. Most commonly she is cast as a sort of Hebrew Disney princess. Her ‘romantic encounter’ with Jacob (Genesis 29) lends itself to a fairy tale: a damsel in distress is swept off her feet by a chivalrous stranger at the well. He kisses her, cries, and proposes to her on the spot. It’s spontaneous. It’s dramatic. It’s a plot that moves quicker than a Lifetime Original movie.

Like in all love stories, we emphasize the fact that Rachel is beautiful. So gorgeous, in fact, that her father, Laban, uses her as bait to trick Jacob into marrying Leah, Rachel’s older sister. Jacob agrees to Laban’s shady plan and serves his father-in-law for a total of 14 years for Rachel’s hand in marriage. At the end of his labor of love, Jacob and Rachel – and Leah and Bilhah and Zilpah – live happily ever after…

Rachel often lives in the ‘magic hour’ of our mind, falling hopelessly in love with Jacob in the soft-lit countryside of Paddan Aram. We know Rachel’s story well – but only the version that we have doused with perfume and covered in floral print, all the while forgetting that she is a multidimensional human being. There’s nothing wrong with Rachel being beautiful, and there’s nothing wrong with a love story. The problem ensues when we trust the idealized version of Rachel over what the text actually says.

Nowhere do we find the description of Rachel as a blushing bride. In her day, she would have had little choice about who she could marry. The text itself says nothing about Rachel’s romantic feelings. Jacob is the one who kisses her, who falls deeply in love. He is the one given over to emotion, weeping at the well. For all we know, Jacob’s love could have been unrequited. In the following chapters we learn that Rachel is cunning, courageous and loyal, but she never fits the description of a star-crossed lover.

How is it that our common understandings of Rachel barely do justice to her true character? How do we come to regard Rachel only as Jacob’s trophy wife? We often confine women in the Bible to one-dimensional roles. Sexism doesn’t just affect how we treat women ; it affects how we read them. Bible reading, like any other human endeavor, is not immune to the disease of sexism. In our infected imaginations, we define Rachel only by her relation to men. By doing this, we reject her true spiritual legacy.

In her 2011 Covenant Companion article, here, Dr. Michelle Clifton-Soderstrom brings the true legacy of Rachel to light. In Jeremiah 31:15, Rachel advocates for Israel from beyond the grave. Here her most treasured role, the mother of a nation, is what gives her life even after she has passed. Refusing to be consoled, she gets the attention of God Almighty on behalf of her exiled people.

“Rachel is the name the scripture writers evoke when they want to contrast human lament while portraying God’s providence amidst the worst of times, and her lamentations are a sign of hope. She pleads for God’s deliverance. She cries out for mercy. She intercedes on behalf of her children…God blesses her postmortem struggle” (Relentless Compassion).

The true Rachel shatters our ill-conceived notions, and emerges as a shepherd of Israel in her own right.

How we read scripture shapes our communities. We have an ethical obligation when we read the stories of women in the Bible, to imagine them as whole characters with complex stories, motivations and legacies. Only when we give space for the true identities of Biblical women, can we give space for the women in our midst to be who they are called to be.

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Jones is the pastor of the Evangelical Covenant Church in Stromsburg, NE. She earned an MDiv from North Park Theological Seminary in 2012. Abby is mom to Stella, Lucy, Mabel and Harper. Read more of Abby’s writing at sustainabletheology.com.

Looking back, I’m not sure how I survived the baby years. I’m just coming out of the throws of 24/7 caregiving after five years with three babies. My youngest is 18-months-old and all of the baby gear is officially gone. There are no more swaddles or swings, bouncers or binkis. There is just one item I’m hanging on to, because the sleep and sanity of our family depends on it. Each and every one of our babies required a sound machine to fall asleep at night. The crackling static, like a radio dial between stations, signals my brain that the day is winding down.

When I turn the dial, it begins to drown out the to-do list, the projects and responsibilities until I drift off to sleep. White noise is great at distracting me from the things that matter. And I’ve come to realize that the sound machine isn’t the only thing feeding me white noise. During the day there’s a constant static drowning out the sounds that matter. It’s the vibrating of my phone with a new text, voicemail, phone call or email. It’s the dinging of a new tweet, pic or notification. It’s the alert of a new post, article or comment. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’m being fed everything from political controversy to fashion trends, global conflict to religious memes. All of it is covertly informing my identity.

There’s no escaping the GoogleAds that know what I’m lacking. I’ve read countless articles about how Facebook has made us sadder and less satisfied. But all of this discontentment didn’t begin with the advent of the internet. Genesis 3 tells us that the curse of sin is that woman will look to her husband and her husband to his work to inform their identity.

This creates a dependency on someone or something other than God. For most of human history the value of a woman has been based on her role as mother, and of course the man she depends on to fulfill this role. As for men, their value has been wrapped up in their ability to provide for their families. Their success, their worth, their identity was in what they accomplish outside of the home. And it will never be good enough, until they finally die and return to the ground.

Women looked to men. Men looked to work. And we wonder why our lives sound more like noise than songs. For generations we’ve heard that this is the right way to do things. It wasn’t too many years ago that a woman would introduce herself as “Mrs. Jeff Jones”. And to this day, one of the first questions that man gets asked by a new acquaintance is “What do you do for a living?”. A woman, in God’s eyes is not valuable because of her husband. A man, in God’s eyes is not valuable because of his labor.

We’re in-between stations.

Twist to the left and you can tune into creation. In the beginning, God’s hands created and formed the beautiful and wonderful and majestic world, and God made man and woman imago dei (Latin for “image of God”). They were created to be co-workers, caring for God’s masterpiece hand in hand. But sin cracked this image. There were no gender roles. There was no division of work. There was only the role of image bearer and the work of stewarding creation.

Twist the dial to the right and you can tune into the reality of God’s Kingdom. It’s the music of God’s restorative justice making all things new. Returning the creation back to it’s intended state. In this Kingdom, where God rules over all of creation, the image of God is not only repaired, but renewed.

We were made adequate to do all of the work God made us to do at creation. We’ll be remade to do all of the work God made us to do in the Kingdom. But in the middle, we squabble about who should be able to do what work. We’ve muted what is beautiful in the beginning and at the end, causing confusion about our purpose and our identity. We end up taking our identity from soundbites in the form of buzzes, dings and tweets. Everything here in the middle is subject to the noise.

 After listening to the white noise all of these years, when I’m quiet and listening to it at the end of the day, sometimes I can make out music in the background. Sometimes it startles me, and sometimes it’s subtle. But it’s there. There’s a song breaking through the noise. We just have to listen for it.

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Nilwona Nowlin currently serves as the Administrative Specialist for Governance for the ECC and is an active member of the Christian Community Development Association. In her “spare time,” she teaches workshops about living successfully as an introvert. Nilwona also randomly blogs about random things at thedreamerspeaks and is a member of the launch team for Kingdom Covenant Church (Chicago).

Last year, the CCDA (Christian Community Development Association) held its first ever Women of Color Retreat. During the retreat, I had a few “fangirl” moments during interactions with Christina Cleveland and Rahiel Tesfamariam. I later discovered that a new friend was having her own fangirl moment after meeting me. This revelation made me pause and consider the voice and influence that I possess. I recognize that this is a gift from God, and I want to be sure that I am a good steward of it. As I was reflecting on this, I was reminded of the Commission on BGE’s Develop a Deborah initiative. Throughout my journey to becoming a leader in ministry, I have certainly had help from people who have walked alongside me and/or used their own voice/influence for my benefit. I believe that, in order to truly be a good steward of my voice and influence, I must use it for the benefit of others. So I would like to use this space to introduce you to a “Deborah.”

Nadine Bitar is a friend of the Covenant by way of North Park University. I met her in 2012 during a joint undergraduate/seminary course at North Park. I had minimal interactions with Nadine during the course, and it wasn’t until we worked together on a group project that I had a chance to get to know her a little better. Nadine is a Palestinian Christian, and crossing paths with her greatly impacted my understanding of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. During a recent trip to the Middle East, I had a chance to visit with Nadine in her hometown, the Old City in Jerusalem. During our conversations, she shared that she was planning to return to North Park, this time to pursue a seminary degree.

After completing her undergraduate studies in Youth Ministry, Nadine returned home to Jerusalem, where she is serving as the Program Coordinator at Terra Sancta Schools Central Office. She works with 15 schools in the Holy Land, Jordan, Cyprus and Argentina. Her tasks include leading Bible study, teaching Sunday school and preaching the gospel any chance she gets. The number of Christians in the Holy Land has greatly declined because of the conflict, and Nadine has been grieved by this as well as the number of young Palestinian Christians turning away from God because “they are not seeing his presence in this awful political situation.” The Christians who live in the Holy Land are often referred to as living stones; Nadine believes that these living stones are integral to the Holy Land and make its communities strong and faithful.

Nadine’s time at North Park as an undergraduate helped her shape her identity and caused her to become more committed to her culture and faith. She has chosen to return to North Park for seminary because she wants to better understand her faith and further equip herself to do ministry. She wants to learn not just for her sake but for the purpose of educating her community and helping them come closer to God. Nadine’s vision is “to see the Christian community speaking out and expressing our faith openly to the world. Our presence in the Holy Land is very important for all Christians around the world. The land of Jesus needs its people to be present in the places where the word of God became flesh.” Her desire is that Christians around the world would stand with their sisters and brothers in the Holy Land.

Nadine Bitar is an amazing young woman with a prophetic voice. More importantly, she is my sister-in-Christ. If ever there was someone who was close to being a literal Deborah, it’s her. She is set to start seminary in Fall 2016 and is currently in the process of fund raising. I have committed to do what I can to develop this Deborah, and I hope that some of you who are reading this will be inspired to do so as well.

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Veronica Gilliard is a member of New Life Covenant Church in Atlanta, Georgia. She also serves as secretary of the Southeast Conference Women Ministries Executive Board. She is also currently a student, pursuing her PhD in Educational Leadership with a specialization in Higher Education. In her spare time she enjoys cooking, bowling, and reading.

Last month I was able to attend a conference with an unofficial theme: lament. The idea of this particular collective of individuals was to allow us a time and space to come together, in light of the nation’s multiple recent tragic events and deliberate injustices, and to encourage and challenge each other. In light of all that happened, we came together with an unspoken acknowledgement that we were all broken, yet willing to press onward, not necessarily toward change, but more importantly toward conviction.

We often like to describe wrestling with this brokenness as “processing” when we should be lamenting. Processing is important, but rather useless if we never move on into lamentation.

As a woman, I struggle with the principle of lament. I am expected to weep, wail, grieve, and display sorrow, particularly over things others see as trivial. This expectation is reinforced daily as you hear bigoted, sexist remarks such as:

Spoken: He throws like a girl.
Unspoken: Girls are weak.

Spoken: Stop crying like a little girl.
Unspoken: Girls are emotional.

Spoken: That girl needs a man.
Unspoken: Girls rarely get the decency of being referred to as women. A women’s agency and value are inextricably tied to her relationship status with a man.

So on and so forth. In a lot of ways I find myself resisting the displays of emotion that are expected of me, for fear of confirming a stereotype that I know to be unfair and inaccurate. Yet at the same time, my heart breaks for so many groups right now: refugees, immigrants, students, parents and families of disabled children, disabled adults, teachers and professors, the poor, those in leadership, etc. Yet, try as I might to hold all that in, there are times when I need to express my emotions, and the emotion that I choose is lament.

Interestingly enough, the more I have chosen to lament for the broken nature of this world, the more I am asked the following question: Why are you so angry?

Anger? No, lament! Immediately I feel stereotyped again, questioning the way I expressed my grief; second guessing the decision to depict my sorrow. Scatterbrained, I find myself trying to justify my weeping.

Today, I encourage you to resist the need to justify your lament. Christ did not call us to stoic, politically correct, and agreeable lifestyles. As we lament, let us be unashamed of our voices, using them to acknowledge both tragic events and deliberate injustices, and to encourage and challenge each other while praying earnestly for change.

For example, I lament the sociocultural oppression that inhibits my ability to lament without being stereotyped as an angry black woman.

What do you lament?

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Rev. Cathy Kaminski is the lead pastor at Trinity Community Church in Cincinnati, OH. It is her privilege to serve, love, and care for those who have paved many paths of righteousness through their lives of faith and service.

The day before Thanksgiving, while many of us were busy lost in the hustle and bustle of pre-holiday traditions, our church suffered a loss. Early that morning Frances Alice (Fuller) Gilmore went to meet the Lord. While I’m sure many of you never had the pleasure of knowing Fran, or may never have heard her name, I guarantee that you have felt the influence of her faithful life.

How? Well, you see Fran was a woman who wore many hats in her ninety-two years. She was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother, librarian, chair of our church’s nursery school board, Christ-follower and naval officer. That’s right: Frances Alice Gilmore was a World War II veteran.

This shy girl from a small town in Maine answered the call of her country’s need. At age nineteen, she enlisted with W.A.V.E.S., (Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service), and was soon stationed in San Francisco. W.A.V.E.S. was a program passed by Congress allowing women to fill shoreline assignments in order to release their male counterparts to active sea duty. If you’re anything like me, you might know little about these women who served our country, but I promise you that all of us, male and female alike, know their legacy.

Fran’s act of bravery would transform the course of her life and the lives of her loved ones. But I’m also convinced, that her willingness to step out into the unknown, to be a trailblazer down paths few women had ever walked before changed the course of history. It’s because of women like Fran that I am able to be a pastor today. Her faithfulness, her quiet confidence, her pioneering spirit opened doors. Her life broke down stereotypes, transformed minds, and set in motion opportunities for generations to come.

A few months back, Jo Ann Deasy wrote the blog post “In Honor of the First,” (See in Covenant Blogs here.) She wrote in honor of Sherron Hughes-Tremper, the first woman ordained to the Evangelical Covenant Church. Women like Sherron and Fran changed this world. I don’t often take the time to stop and gauge the depth of their gifts to humanity, but when I do I’m lost in adoration. A glass ceiling sadly still exists, for some more than others. But it is raised that much higher because of the influence of women like these. Women we may not know, but women whose lives continue to give us gifts long after their time on earth has come to an end.

In honor of Fran and the many other Frans out there, I write this post. A small piece of her story. A tribute to her legacy. My debt and gratitude go far beyond the words of this piece. I hope and pray to one day be remembered among pioneers like my friend Fran.

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