Trisha Mugo

Photo by Christine Wagner, Creative Commons, Flickr.

As a child reading Aesop’s Fable, The Tortoise and the Hare, I always cheered for the Hare.

Slow and steady has never been my thing. I like pedal to metal. I’m a multitasking maven. Just keep the coffee brewing.

I never really saw a problem with the Hare’s approach to life until a few months ago when I started to write a book—and failed.

I decided I would crank out 1,000 or more words a day, and I did for several weeks. But this isn’t the type of book you can write quickly, especially for someone like me, who’s never written a book.

Now I see the hare’s problem—all the running made him so exhausted he decided to take a nap before crossing the finish line. I totally get it.

I know how exhaustion can lull a person to sleep even when they’re awake, leaving them sleepwalking through the motions of life—the motions of parenting and marriage.

Last week the class I tutor at our homeschool co-op was assigned to narrate an Aesop Fable. When not one but two students chose to retell the classic parable and laud the tortoise for his leisure, I took it as a sign from God.

Maybe this book won’t unfold lickety-split. Maybe I need to slow down and seek rest.

So I have. I know if I’m going to finish this book, God will breathe it into my heart and provide the time to plant my bottom in the chair.

I’m done with trying to write it at a hare’s pace in my own strength, where my goals and good intentions can morph into the ugly two-headed monster of striving and selfish ambition.

I know one thing about trading my way for God’s way. When I do give up, it’s like a cheeky child turns back the hour hand on the clock.

I’ve found surrendering my time to God, multiplies my time.

Joy and peace flood our home—and overflow into my work. All of a sudden this writing life transforms from striving to the glorious exhale of rest.

The more I step and sway with the Spirit—learning His Divine rhythm and pace, the more I learn how to work from a posture of rest.

And this, my friends, changes everything.

Instead of the finish line consuming my thoughts, chewing up the in-between moments, I approach each task fully present. Laughter and concentration come easily, and so do a few jokes.

I think the tortoise knew all along he would cross the finish line—he never doubted it.

I, too, know this book will come, and I’m ok plodding through it slow and steady.

I once obeyed without worrying who would disapprove or who would pat me on the back. Before I learned to cower in self-consciousness, I followed God with the bravado only a teen can muster.

I was bold and unstoppable.

In 1998, I sat on my floral bedspread reading the Student Bible when the Holy Spirit spoke to me. As I read about Spiritual gifts in Romans, I heard him tell me how he was calling me to leadership.

I’m not exactly a natural-born leader. And isn’t that just like God?

I knew he wanted me to lead my high school Bible club, Youth Alive. So, I said yes. It was a simple, naïve yes.

I wish I could tell you this pattern continued, but I can’t. Not really.

In the 17 years since, I’ve felt other nudges to lead. And instead of embracing it, I’ve wrestled with the doubt I can’t lead because I’m a woman.

In 2003 after two years of theology classes and ministry training, I stood one exam away from becoming a certified minister. But I didn’t take that next step.

Growing up women’s ministry looked like quilting and gossip, missions bake sales and pot lucks. I don’t think I’m alone in wanting to see educated, Spirit-led women step into their God-given passions for leading and teaching.

A gap does exist in our churches, and it’s a leadership gap. For too long, women like me have shied away from their callings.

In the churches I’ve attended since, I’ve often wished I could join the men’s Bible studies. I’ve pined for a women’s ministry that goes deeper than Pinterest and shopping. I’ve hungered for a profound encounter with the Word of God and sensed a gap.

But I never saw myself as a leader that could bridge that gap. For years, fear of judgment and rejection has pinned me behind the scenes.

I’ve wrestled with the Church’s split view on women in ministry, and I’ve been scared of getting it wrong.

But I’ve found I don’t have to look further than Jesus for permission. I love how Jesus empowered every woman he met.

Slowly I’m sloughing off this stubborn, subtle idea men are better suited to lead. Slowly I’m learning to use my voice for God’s glory.

Organizations like Christine Caine’s Propel Women, which launched Monday, help. Propel casts a vision to help “women internalize a leadership identity.”

Caine, the founder of the A21 Campaign to end human trafficking, knows a thing or two about living unstoppable. In her book, Undaunted: Daring to Do What God Calls You to Do, she gives us this nugget.

“Nothing about my birth—or yours—was random or accidental. I was born for this time—and so were you. We were each chosen for a particular, cosmically important task that can be done by no one else.”

I feel my old bravado returning as God awakens in me old dreams, dreams so big only a kid can believe. He’s stripping away my grown-up perspectives and giving me the faith eyes of a child.

I’m starting to see that all things really are possible to the one who believes, (Mark 9:23). I’m starting to believe that God can use me—even me.

And he can even use you.

I’m steeping my mind daily in this truth, wrapping myself in the identity that I’m a chosen—in spite of my gender.

I’m learning to live with passion and lean into a calling so real fear and self-doubt can’t shake it.

How to Trade Work for Rest without Quitting Your Job

How to Lead and Be Unstoppable