SHADES OF PINK
Wearing pink is new to me.
I’ve spent countless years drenched in black with as much masculine edge as possible in order to try and somehow make up for being a girl. In my tireless fight for women to be viewed as vital and necessary, I began to believe the lie that I somehow wasn’t either of those things. That my femininity was my downfall and that I identified first and foremost as a woman and all other aspects of me—including my title of child of God—came second to that. I believed I was a B-class, second choice human because I was fighting so hard against the lies that I lost sight of the truth.
Passionate anger kept my eyes unswervingly fixed on the small but significant hurtful words of people throughout my life. The enemy was successfully distracting me from my true identity by leading me into feminism rooted in human acceptance and value rather than daughterhood rooted in the purpose of my womanhood for the Kingdom.
Because my womanhood does serve a Kingdom purpose and does not diminish my Kingdom value. All my life, I have had mostly male friends and I had spent years believing that it was because I was good at acting like a boy. That I could play the masculine part and maintain the masculine relationships. That I had few female friends simply because I was misunderstood by fellow women. That my seemingly second-class position as a woman was something to be fought against, tooth and nail. I subconsciously believed that I was less in the eyes of my Father God than the men around me and I had to fight to convince everyone that I was not, in fact, girly.
And I think you have, at one point or another, believed that same lie.
God met me there, in that place of disappointment and heartbreak, and He revealed to me all those lies I had allowed to define my life. He began to pull open the curtains and expose the quiet deceptions hiding behind them, defining my life and choking out my purpose. Like a scene in a movie, words and people and moments that had made me feel that I was not valuable in the Kingdom story began to play quickly behind my eyes and at the end of this painful reel, God negated it all. He stomped on the lies and looked me in the eyes and told me something important. And it is for you, too.
I am a woman, but that is not the primary aspect of my identity. God made me, every single tiny little portion of my character, and then decided that my ministry would be the most effective if I were a woman. But first and foremost—far ahead of my gender or any other facet of my personality—He made me to be His. I am a child of the Creator of the galaxies and of autumn and of Mariana’s Trench and of every single man and woman that ever has and ever will live on earth. I am royalty, an heir to the Throne and a member of the royal priesthood. I am empowered by my God—the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and Moses and Jesus and Mary and Ruth and Esther and the woman at the well—to prophecy and heal and minister to the entire world—man or woman—with the authority NOT of my gender nor the permission by men but by the commission and empowerment of my King. God is using my womanhood and my femininity to reveal Him and His Kingdom in new and powerful and vital ways.
All those men I have befriended throughout the years were not drawn to me and I to them so that I could be another one of the boys, but so that I could love them, nurture them, and speak into their lives and hearts in a way only a woman can. God gave me male friends who needed love that only a female friend could give them, and when I attempt to be the same as them, I negate the purpose of being different. And I have struggled in relationships with women not because they misunderstood me but because I have misunderstood myself. I have resisted girlfriends because Satan has convinced me, in the sneaky way he does, that femininity is to be fought and conquered.
But I am not second-class or second-choice. I am not the backup-plan. I am the plan. I have a purpose. I have a King who has commissioned me and sent with me power and authority. And I also happen to be a woman and that is good. Because my strength is softer and my power is gentler and my long hair and polished fingernails do not distract my God from the mission He set out for me. As a matter of fact, they are just the things He loves to use to tell the story of who He is.
Wearing pink is new to me, but it sure feels like broken chains.
GET THE LOOK!
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All photography by Kylie Morgan