Written by Helen Strickland
I recently heard someone say in passing that when they think of the saints, they do not often think of the women. After spending three weeks in Italy with the Harding University in Florence program, I cannot stop thinking about the women. They permeate our lives in ways we often fail to realize. Thus, I urge you to consider the women who come to my mind when I hear of the saints.
I think of St. Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. I think of her willingness to bear and raise the Savior. I think of her willingness to follow Jesus to His death and His Resurrection. I think of St. Mary Magdalene. She washed Jesus’ feet with an incredibly expensive perfume. She dedicated herself to His work, following Him as He spread the Gospel.
I think of St. Agnes, the patron saint of young girls. She was a 13-year-old martyr. The violent men around her cost her her life after a vow of chastity. She was resilient when no 13-year-old should have to be.
I think of St. Catherine of Siena, a bold Christian who criticized the Pope’s worldliness before she was even 30. Her advocacy brings inspiration to many. I think of St. Fina; she fasted and prayed almost constantly, laying on a wooden board while people sought her for healing. Many gathered around her to be in her presence.
I think of my own mother, another appropriately named Mary, who has taught me so much about being a woman of faith, about loving others. I think of my best friends Randi and Amelia, two women who lead with love, patience and understanding. They listen well to the world around them. I think of Emma as she designs this very page. She is the definition of depth and strength, writing and teaching others about life in this world. I think of my younger sister, Lila, and her ability to teach and to care for all around her. She remains bold and steadfast in her beliefs.
There are many more women written in the Book of Life who work and worked diligently for their faith. They are trusting, and they are bright. They are strong. They love well. They fall and they rise; they press on. We should all strive to be like every one of them — women and men alike. I hope that when we look at the admirable women of our lives, we know they are saints. I hope that when you read this, you think of your own mother or sister or mentor or friend. I hope that the little girls of this world grow up thinking of the female saints surrounding them and paving their way. I know you, too, can be like these women — human and striving and redeemed.
May every one of us contemplate the female saints. They were here, and they remain. Praise God.
