Article
Ladies, in Every Season, You Have a Place in the Mission
Whether you’re raising toddlers, homeschooling teenagers, leading a Bible study, or showing up faithfully in a job that feels unseen … God has a place for you in His story.
I’ve walked through seasons that could’ve swallowed me whole—infertility, the heartbreak of unanswered prayers, and silent waiting. Then, parachute planting a church from scratch, stepping into the unknown with nothing but faith, and launching that church just one month before giving birth to my first child. I had three kids under the age of three, then four under five, and eventually a bonus baby, almost four years after we thought our family was complete. The house was full in those years—diapers, toddler tantrums, sippy cups, late-night feedings, and zero sleep. There were days I’d fall into bed unsure if I had made it through with grace or just sheer grit.
And in the middle of all that, I was hosting small groups, leading counseling sessions around our dining room table, and holding church meetings in our living room because when you’re planting a church, your home is like homebase. My husband? Everyone needed the pastor. Every single day. There were Sundays he would come home physically present but emotionally drained, and I’d feel like there was nothing left for our family. I’ve cried in the kitchen after best friends left our church, the very same people we had prayed with, believed for, and sacrificed to serve. I had to grieve deeply while still showing up with a smile. And all of this without family nearby. It was often just me and God in the hard moments, figuring it out while wiping noses and making dinner. I was tired, spiritually dry, emotionally wrung out, and physically spent. I questioned whether God saw me. Could He really use me like this?
The God Who Meets Us
But God met me there. Right there in the messy middle. He reminded me that His mission doesn’t wait for the perfect season. It moves through our obedience, right in the chaos. And over and over, He showed me I wasn’t meant to walk it alone.
One of the things that anchored me in the middle of those exhausting years was staying rooted in the Word. There were days the noise never stopped, and the demands piled up. I remember one morning after a particularly rough night with a teething baby. I had nothing left in the tank, but I grabbed my Bible and sat on the floor while the kids watched a cartoon. I opened to a familiar passage and read a single verse. God met me there—in a baggy sweatshirt and messy bun, on a rug covered in crumbs—and reminded me that His Word is not just for the quiet, well-organized moments. It’s for the chaos, too. In those tired, desperate readings, I found comfort. God wasn’t measuring my quiet time; He was meeting me in it. His Word reminded me who I belonged to and why I was still showing up. And in the simplest way, He gave me what I needed to keep going.
And He kept showing me: mission doesn’t require a platform. It just requires presence. When I was pregnant with our fifth child, I noticed several women in our church were also expecting. I invited them over, not to launch a program or teach a study, but just to be together, do life together, to practice everyday discipleship. We laughed, prayed, shared fears, swapped baby gear, and talked about what it looks like to follow Jesus in the real, gritty spaces of motherhood. That little group became sacred ground. No big announcements, no stage, just everyday obedience multiplying the gospel one conversation at a time. I’ve found that’s usually how God works: not in grand events, but in ordinary moments made holy by our yes.
Let Go (of Some Dreams) and Let God (Change You)
There’s this pressure in ministry to carry everything on your shoulders, but God didn’t ask us to do it alone. He asks us to multiply what matters. During our early church planting years, I had to let go of the idea that I had to be everything to everyone. Instead, I began investing deeply in a few women. I discipled them, poured into them, and they began to lead and disciple others. It wasn’t glamorous or fast, but it was fruitful. That slow and steady investment began multiplying in ways only God could orchestrate. I saw women step into callings they didn’t know they had; teaching, leading, serving, because someone believed in them and showed them their life mattered. And I realized that’s the kind of leader I want to be—not one who does everything, but one who empowers others to step into what God’s calling them to.
And as a result, our local church became our lifeline.
The Beauty of the Church
Not just something we built, but something we needed. I used to think we were planting a church because the community needed it … and they did … but somewhere along the way, I realized: we needed it too. We needed them. Their faith carried us when ours felt shaky. Their presence filled in the gaps when we were too weary to show up. There were meals dropped off when I was too overwhelmed to cook, women who scooped up my kids when I couldn’t be in two places at once, and people who simply showed up … again and again … offering grace, not expecting perfection. Our living room was full of people we had once called strangers, now family. God’s grace came wrapped in community. His provision wasn’t just financial, it was people. His kindness looked like conversations on the front porch and prayers around the kitchen table. We had gone into church planting thinking we were building something for others, and God gently showed us He was also building something in us, through them.
The local church is the most beautiful part of our story. It’s where my kids learned what community should look like, where my friends became family, where I’ve been prayed over and supported. Ministry isn’t just something we gave; it was something we received, again and again, through the love and presence of the Body of Christ. And for the deep biblical community we experienced at August Gate, I will forever be grateful.
Still, some of the steps God asked me to take were terrifying. Saying yes to planting a church? Terrifying. Saying yes to lead in a season when I felt completely inadequate? Terrifying. Moving our family across the country to take on a new season of ministry? Terrifying! But brave obedience doesn’t mean we’re fearless. It means we say yes anyway. I’ve learned that some of the most powerful things I’ve seen God do came on the other side of a scared yes. And every time I obeyed, even when my hands were shaking, God showed up in ways that reminded me He was the one carrying the mission all along.
Every Woman on Mission
And what gives me even more hope is knowing that this mission is for every woman. Whether you’re raising toddlers, homeschooling teenagers, leading a Bible study, or showing up faithfully in a job that feels unseen … God has a place for you in His story. One gospel. Every woman. That means no woman is left out. It doesn’t matter what your background is, your season of life, your personality, or your experience. If you belong to Jesus, you belong in the mission. And your everyday obedience has eternal impact.
So, to the church planter wives, the weary leaders, the women wondering if they matter in the middle of their messy season, I see you, and you have a place in the mission of God. Whether you’re wiping faces or leading teams, whether you’re praying quietly or teaching boldly … God can and will use you. You don’t have to be ready. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to say yes. Choose obedience. Live faithfully. Lean on your church. Let God meet you in your need. And trust that the one who called you is faithful to carry it all … even you.
You have a place in this mission. Now go.
