For the Love: Fighting for Grace in a World of Impossible Standards

by Jen Hatmaker

Let’s do this. Let’s fulfill the good work we’ve been commissioned to. Silence any voice that whispers “not enough” and stand in truth as an approved worker. You are. Jesus made you so. If God surveyed the cross and declared it finished, then it wasn’t sufficient for everyone except you. If Jesus covered it all, then He covered it all. You are now approved, like it or not. Or as God told Peter: “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean” (Acts 10:15). Okay then. That is pretty straightforward instruction. If you need to deal, then deal. Wrangle whatever holds you down or holds you back. You are too vital to lose years to regret or shame or insecurity or fear. We are not slaves to those masters; Jesus saw to that. Face your issues with courage, sister, because truth and love win, and you have both those cards to play. Ask God: What lies do I believe about myself? What lies do I believe about You? The Holy Spirit is an incredible leader and healer. Don’t shove it down; lay your junk on the table and deal with it. Address the stuff. Forgive, release, acknowledge, confront, feel the feelings, let something go, believe the truth, whatever you need to do. Then dust your hands off and get ready to go. I think we’re ready, aren’t we? I hear it. The dreams, the visions, the excitement. I am flabbergasted by women everywhere. They are overcoming, enduring, outlasting, shining, leading, risking, showing up, speaking up, standing up. They are chasing down dreams right in the...

Conclusion I may have mentioned we have chickens. We moved into our old farmhouse, cleaned out the coop, and now we are Chicken People. (Memo to potential Chicken People: Various predators like to kill chickens, which are not smart enough to get away; so it is advisable not to treat them like pets by, say, naming them McNugget and Teriyaki and Barack O’Brahma like some Chicken People who assumed their chickens would live forever. As my son Ben said, “In Ethiopia, we don’t cry over chickens.” Duly noted.) Chickens are so funny, you guys. We open the coop door every morning and they sprint out like Flo-Jo. We let them free range all day long, and each one has her own ideas. We have three rogue chickens that squeeze through our gate every day and loiter in our neighbors’ yards. They have wanderlust, apparently. They will waddle their weird little bodies a block away, because I guess their fallen sisters weren’t a cautionary tale against predators. Others stick to the same exact pecking path in our yard. We have a whole acre but they keep to the fence line on the south side. One chicken is constantly on top of our cars, outdoor table, refrigerator, and trampoline. Our yard is her Everest. But no matter where they wander during the day, as soon as the sun starts setting, there they are, all ten of them, back in the coop roosting on their perch, packed tightly together like brave little Chicken Sisters. The day’s adventures are done and they are home for the night, snuggled in w...