A Letter to the Women of Today…

They weren’t given names in the text.

The woman who knelt with her alabaster jar, breaking it open in pure devotion.

The woman dragged into the temple courts, accused of adultery, humiliated before a crowd.

The bleeding woman who reached for the hem of His robe, desperate for healing.

The Samaritan at the well, asking questions and carrying shame.

The widow who gave two coins, unnoticed by most but seen by God.

History didn’t bother recording their names.

But Heaven remembered every detail.

And maybe that’s the first thing today’s woman needs to hear:

You are not anonymous to God.

He knows the weight you carry, even when you carry it well.

He sees the quiet courage it takes to keep showing up.

To keep loving.

To keep forgiving.

To keep hoping, even when life has scraped your knees and silenced your voice.

The woman who anointed Jesus was scorned by onlookers.

But Jesus didn’t stop her.

He defended her.

He said her story would be told forever.

The adulterous woman?

He stooped down to the dust beside her.

He silenced her accusers with grace and truth.

He didn’t shame her—He freed her.

The woman at the well?

He spoke to her like she mattered.

He offered her living water, not judgment.

He turned her story into a testimony.

Today, we are still those women.

We break open pieces of ourselves in worship, hoping He finds it beautiful.

We carry shame from choices—ours or others’.

We reach for healing in places we’re told to hide.

We pour out the little we have, hoping it’s enough.

But hear this:

Jesus is still defending. Still healing. Still redeeming. Still seeing.

So if you are weary from striving…

If the world has given you labels but not love…

If you’ve felt forgotten in a loud, filtered world…

Come sit beside these women of the Word.

They are your sisters in the story.

They were flawed.

They were faithful.

They were broken.

They were brave.

And they were chosen to be part of His story—

Just like you and me.

Let the world forget your name.

Let the crowd misunderstand your offering.

Let the critics raise their eyebrows.

Because Jesus?

He sees your tears.

He sees your worth.

And He will never turn you away.

Until next time,