Ellen Stevens

So fun teaching alongside and this weekend. Such a great - the fierce and lovely women, the beautiful venue, and the exquisite food were all simply amazing!

Oh, Christy! These words have been an unexpected gift of goodness.

In a beautiful telling of what it looks like to walk through a lifetime of womanhood, Her Rites offers language to explore the seasons that form us.

As I journeyed through the pages, I found openness and honor of the chapters of my life I dismissed, grieved, celebrated, and relished. I unearthed tenderness in the places I have been missed, honor for the beautiful unseen I long for, and invitation to a time of sacred becoming.

This is a guide that must be read slowly, with transparency and intention. I imagine one pass through Her Rites will not be enough -- I will be coming back to visit these words again, and again.

This is an unusual season for me, and as my heart and words permit, I will slowly begin sharing what has been released, what has come forward, and what is awakening.

Thank you, Christy, for your courage to show up and your willingness to let us all be seen. And, thank you for role in my journey.

This week, a surprising thing happened. About a year ago, I tried to set up our TV screensaver to pull up images from a family album. I fooled with the app for awhile before giving up when setup took too long and was far more complicated than advertised. Then, I promptly forgot about it.

Now, a year later, random pictures are suddenly appearing, pulling sacred memories from our past into our present…

* Driftwood sword fights on rocky Washington beaches.
* Riding horses and motorcycles in the mountains.
* Impromptu wrestling matches in the living room.
* Grizzly watching on Alaska’s Western coast.
* Grilling shovel steaks at backyard birthday bonfires.
* Tree forts, silly faces, concerts, football games and track meets.

It is a welcome reminder of who I’ve been and who I want to be.

Hard work. Focus. Purpose. These things come natural to me.
I live a good life - a life I design and choose. Yet, moments of play, wonder, and connection easily escape me — but they are what matter most.

Today, as I get lost in the faces of my family and their adventures, I’m reminded to pause my full world, breathe — and make space for a life of moments.

Our paths are often riddled with bumps and bends that can either hold us back or become the catalyst for meaning and purpose. The choice is ours.

If we listen closely, in the midst of struggle, loneliness, pain, and suffering, we will hear the faint whisper of a desire to live whole – a yearning for connection and healing – and a call to take a step forward and walk toward change.

Genuine healing begins when we courageously decide to step into the truth of our stories.

I’ve always asked questions. Engaging exploration. Pursuing understanding. It’s the way I approach the world.

As a kid, I loved the library and the woods, scoured beaches and spied on adult conversations.  I tried to soak up all there was to learn.

As a teen, I told my father I didn’t want him to tell me what to do - but to teach me all the sides, so I could learn to find my way.  That rarely went well.

My innate curiosity was welcome in school and university, but only occasionally accepted at home and rarely at church; my questions often interpreted as challenges, obstinate, or rebellious. Yet, they persisted.

Last week, I returned to the Exiles in Babylon conference, hosted by Theology in the Raw: where there is space for those curious about faith, culture, and theology.  

Differences of opinion and interpretation were wrestled, perspectives were challenged, voices were heard, and welcome was offered to those who experience the world and God differently. And my soul loved every minute of it. 

Grateful to these brave believers who know God delights in our brains and is not intimidated by questions. 

This is what it means to love and serve with body, soul… and mind.