In case this isn’t obvious: We need each other

Well, looky here – it’s December again. Is it me, or does it feel like last December only happened three months ago? But alas, it’s been twelve whole months, 52 weeks, 365 days. And we’ve crammed a lot into those days, weeks and months. 

Donald Trump became the 47th President of the United States of America. 

Taylor Swift released an album. That seems to happen most years, but still.

Reform UK won the largest number of new seats in the UK’s local elections. 

The Green Party became the fastest-growing, and third largest, political party in the UK. 

Millions of people tuned into Amazon’s The Summer I Turned Pretty to watch Belly finally chose Conrad. 

And, agonisingly, the violence raging in the Middle East ceased, then started, then ceased, then started again. 

2025: it’s been a big old mixed-bag of a year. 

A monthly rhythm

Something that’s been a constant, though, is this. You and I. Month in and month out, we’ve talked together (admittedly, I’ve done most of the yapping) about the realities of being a woman in this particular moment in time. 

We’ve gone deep and we’ve gone wide – we’ve put the sexual revolution under the microscope, wondered whether we’ve all been duped into thinking of it as a victory for us women. We’ve raged at people assigning gender to certain types of worship (this topic still irks me) and we’ve pondered the long-enduring fascination that women have with witches. I’ve cut myself open at times, offering you my raw thoughts and feelings on the topics of marriage and motherhood. We’ve focused on leadership and queried whether ‘male’ attributes are still the ones being pulled off the shelf when we women find ourselves in positions of power. And, most recently, I’ve questioned the motives of political/cultural figures who are finally committed to ‘defending our girls’…but only from a certain demographic.

Gosh. 

We’ve been talking through all of this for two years now. We’ve celebrated and we’ve lamented. We’ve looked outward and we’ve delved inward. You may have loved every word I’ve written; you may have cringed at every sentence of it. Either reaction is fine by me – we don’t have to agree on everything, I’m just thankful that we get to do this together. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again (and again and again and again), being a Christian feminist is not – and can never be – an individualistic endeavour. We need each other; we were just made that way. Working toward the political, social, economic and spiritual equality of the sexes is an inherently communal task. 

And that’s why this little monthly catch-up of ours has been an honour. It’s also why I’m incredibly sad that it’s our last one. You, lovely reader, have no idea how much your company has meant to me. Writing to you each month has been a balm, a breathing-space, a means by which I have been able to untangle my most chaotic thoughts and excavate my many buried questions. 

So, thank you. 

A heavenly blueprint

I don’t know about you, but to me, the ‘nativity’ is one of the most tangible examples of God working in and through women – both individually, and together, as their lives rub off on each other. 

When Gabriel, that angelic messenger, told Mary what was about to happen to (or rather, within) her, her immediate response was actually quite muted. The words that children are encouraged to read in a serene and calm voice actually feel full of trepidation to me, now: “I am the Lord’s servant…May your word to me be fulfilled”(Luke 1:38) seems drenched in both faith and fear. 

It was only after she visited her older cousin, Elisabeth, and got Elizabeth’s perspective on what was happening, that Mary relaxed into the complex joy of it all and burst out in praise (vv39-56). And that makes sense to me – Mary and Elizabeth’s context was incredibly specific but their relationship was a heavenly blueprint. We were designed to do this together, for our faith to spill over into each other’s lives, for our fears to be carried collectively. We were made to wrestle the hard stuff together, to communally puzzle over the bewildering stuff and squeal over the exciting stuff.

As far as I can see, Christian feminism is a gospel movement thing: it’s a returning, a restoring. It’s a stubborn stance, refusing to allow anything less than God intended women to be and do – for the sake of women and for the sake of the kingdom they’re commissioned to carry. It’s complex, it’s nuanced, it’s black and white and then it’s every shade of grey. It’s political, it’s personal, it’s a comfort and a confrontation, a delight and a disturbance. It’s now and it’s not yet. It’s concerned with macro-policies and micro-decision. 

And it’s always – I repeat, always – a communal endeavour. 

So, here’s to us. Together. May we never lose sight of each other. 

I’ll see you soon x