The following post is from Meredith Holladay, Associate Pastor for Spiritual Formation at First Baptist Church, Lawrence, Kansas. She wrote her dissertation at Baylor University on theology and popular music, and will gladly swap music recommendations. Though in Jawhawk territory, she’s originally from Louisville and can’t wait for Louisville basketball to start once again!

By Meredith Holladay

You’ve seen the movie Mean Girls, I’m sure. Or perhaps you’ve read the book Queen Bees and Wannabees.

Growing up female is tough. And we make it toughest for each other.

Often we are just not nice to each other. Instead of a posture of cooperation, we assume a posture of competition, approaching one another as though some kind of zero sum of happiness and success (or pretty or funny or smart) exists, as though her accomplishment somehow impinges on or threatens our own. This attitude, this posture, I shouldn’t have to say, is destructive on so many levels.

Thankfully, though, that is not, and does not have to be, the truth.

And it certainly was the farthest reality in the room as I listened to women at the Baptist Women in Ministry 30th annual celebration. Some women told stories generations old, showing battle wounds of being on the front lines of hurling weapons of “The Bible Says…” back and forth (as Nancy Hastings Sehested recalled). Some women told stories of affirmation as they stepped out in the world, fresh out of seminary, newly affirmed and embraced for a life of calling.

One of the primary themes when we talk about calling and supporting those in vocational ministry is the significance of mentoring relationships, and that was clear at the BWIM gathering as the celebration featured two new awards—one for a church that mentored, called and supported Baptist women in ministry, and one recognizing a distinguished mentor.

It would be near-impossible to listen to stories of calling and mentoring and not reflect with deep gratitude and humility on those who have fostered my own calling and mentored me in life and ministry.

One of the takeaway lines for me, from Sehested’s sermon, in reflecting on the early days of BWIM, she recalled “Some of us were called strident. (Which was one of the gentler things we were called.)”

And in thinking about this genealogy of mine, as a Baptist woman in ministry, I wrote down, right under that, “I still want to be called strident.”

I give thanks for the women who have gone before, and mentored me—some in close proximity and relationship, and some by their example, of which I have learned and observed, distanced by both time and place.

As I sat and listened last night, and saw from the balcony hundreds of men and women who have served and continue to serve as living witnesses to the courage and perseverance of following God’s call, I gave thanks.

I gave thanks that there are so many who are willing to stand up and say, as Sehested did, “I am. I am called. I am a daughter of God and the church.”

In giving thanks I also left emboldened—to be strident. To bear witness; to be strident; to continue to push the boundaries of inclusivity and expansiveness; to continue to challenge our understandings of the Gospel’s all-encompassing call to love, to welcome, to change.

Most of all I give thanks that there is a place for me, for other women—young and old—to learn together, to serve together, without fear of competition or jealousy, but for encouragement, mentoring, and affirmation.

May we continue to be a light and example in Baptist life.