Rooted in Truth

A few years ago, while on my Quest with Fellowship of the Sword, I was asked a simple question: “What season are you in right now?”

It didn’t start with a business plan. It started with a garden—just a little sunny patch tucked into a suburban backyard. And a longing.

From the very beginning, God designed man and woman to walk together — distinct yet united, different yet corresponding, equal yet complementary. Not clones. Not competitors. But two reflections of His image, woven to create a union that would mirror His own heart.

When we talk about strength, the world has plenty to say. Loudness. Dominance. Aggression. Stoicism. The kind of “strength” that conquers, demands, controls.

But biblical strength — chazaq — is different.

When God crafted humanity, He didn’t create woman as an afterthought. He wasn’t patching up a mistake. He wasn’t giving Adam a maid, a sidekick, or a lesser being to keep him company. He was creating an Ezer Kenegdo. And if we understand what that phrase really means — if we peel back the layers of tradition and mistranslation — it changes everything.

There’s a lot of noise in the world about what it means to be a strong woman. Hustle. Grind. Rise and conquer. Or the opposite — fade back, stay quiet, don’t take up too much space. But neither of these reflect what Scripture truly says about strength. Neither paints the picture of the woman God designed and delights in.

This morning I sat beside my plants, hands busy, mind scattered, and there it was—
wilted lettuce. Forgotten, sun-stressed, and past its prime. It struck me like a parable. Not because the lettuce was ruined (it happens). But because it revealed something deeper: you can’t do it all.