I used to think I was God’s backup plan. Not in so many words, of course. No one ever sat me down to tell me that women were Plan B. But somewhere along the way, I picked up the idea that faithful women were mostly waiting in the wings.
Maybe it came from the way certain stories were told. Looking back, I realize I often heard about the women of Scripture through a particular lens. Back in Genesis 2, the word “helper” somehow became synonymous with assistant, as if Eve’s role were to stand just offstage, supporting the real hero of the story. Somewhere along the way, I began to equate helper with sidekick, Robin rather than Batman, even though the same word is repeatedly used of God Himself throughout the Old Testament.
Deborah was often presented as the woman God used because no men were willing to step up. Ruth became the vulnerable widow whose story ultimately centered on Boaz rescuing her. Abigail was remembered more for being married to a foolish man than for the wisdom that preserved a future king. Again and again, I found myself focusing on the men around the women rather than on the women themselves.
To be fair, I don’t think anyone intentionally set out to communicate that women were less significant in God’s story. But somewhere between what was taught and what was caught, I began to believe that faithful women were mostly waiting in the wings. Waiting for their turn. Waiting for a vacancy. Waiting for God to call them into the game after His first string had exhausted their opportunities.
The problem, of course, is that when I finally began reading these stories for myself, I did not find what I expected. As I have spent more time studying Scripture over the years, that narrative has become harder and harder to hold onto. The deeper I have gone into the biblical story, the more I have found women woven throughout it. Not standing on the sidelines waiting for their opportunity, but actively participating in God’s redemptive work. Not as a concession or an emergency substitute. They were never Plan B.
One thing I have noticed in recent years is that we often collapse two very different conversations into one. The first concerns church leadership, polity, authority, and how different denominations understand particular offices within the church. These are important conversations. They deserve careful study, humility, and a commitment to Scripture from both men and women. Faithful believers have wrestled with these questions for centuries and will likely continue to do so.
The second conversation concerns whether women have a meaningful place in the story and mission of God, and while those conversations certainly overlap at times, they are not the same.
Long before we discuss elders, deacons, pastors, or church structures, Scripture has already introduced us to women who preserve life, speak wisdom, steward resources, finance ministry, exercise courage, disciple others, protect families, influence kings, and participate in God’s work in the world. We meet women who are wealthy and women who are poor. Women from covenant families and women from pagan nations. Women who lead publicly and women whose faithfulness is expressed in quieter ways. Women who are married, single, mothers, widows, business owners, prophets, disciples, and patrons.
In fact, this is not even a question about whether women lead. They led, they do lead, and they will continue to lead. The real question is whether we have eyes to recognize the many ways God has always used women throughout redemptive history. What makes this significant is not that modern culture has suddenly discovered the value of women. Scripture established that from the beginning. Before sin entered the world, before kingdoms rose and fell, before Israel was formed or the church was born, God created humanity in His image. Male and female together were commissioned to fill, cultivate, and steward the earth and to reflect His rule to the world, together.
This means the significance of women is not rooted in a position, title, or platform. It is rooted in the image of God. Men do not bear His image alone, nor do women. Together, we reveal something of His character and glory. Any conversation that diminishes one or elevates one at the expense of the other misses something beautiful in God’s design.
Take Rahab, for example: Of all the people God could have chosen to place at the center of Israel’s entrance into the Promised Land, He chooses a Canaanite prostitute living on the edge of a pagan city. If I were writing the story, I would have chosen someone far more respectable. Yet God seems entirely unconcerned with our categories. Before Israel takes possession of the land and before the walls of Jericho fall, He introduces us to a woman whose faith will become one of Scripture’s defining examples. Rahab hides the spies, aligns herself with the God of Israel, and hangs a scarlet cord from her window as a sign of rescue.
The imagery is striking. Scarlet threads run throughout the story of redemption. The colors woven into the tabernacle and priestly garments reminded Israel that a holy God was making a way for sinful people to dwell in His presence. Rahab’s scarlet cord becomes more than a marker hanging from a window. It becomes a picture of redemption itself. The woman who once lived outside the covenant is brought into it. She saves her family, joins the people of God, and eventually finds herself in the genealogy of Jesus. The story of redemption runs directly through her life, not because God ran out of better options, but because she was always part of the story He was telling.
Then there is Deborah: Few women have been so celebrated and so misunderstood at the same time. I cannot tell you how many times I have heard Deborah’s story taught as if she existed only because the men refused to lead. Yet when I read Judges, that is not what the text says. When we are introduced to Deborah, she is already judging Israel beneath the palm tree. The people are already coming to her. She is already recognized as a prophet. She is already faithfully serving in the role God had given her.
The text never presents Deborah as a reluctant substitute, nor does it apologize for her presence. In fact, she is described as both a wife and a judge, faithfully fulfilling her responsibilities while speaking God’s truth to a nation in need. Sometimes I wonder whether we spend more time explaining Deborah away than Scripture does. Deborah’s story challenges our assumptions. It reminds us that God’s purposes are often larger than our categories and that faithfulness matters more than our attempts to force every story into a neat framework.
And then there is Abigail: one of my favorite women in the Old Testament and one who deserves far more attention than she receives. When David is on the verge of acting out of anger and vengeance, Abigail steps into the path of destruction with remarkable courage and wisdom. What follows is not simply a clever speech from a quick-thinking woman trying to save her household. Her words read almost like an oracle or prophecy, as if she were declaring the plans of God.
She reminds David of God’s promises. She speaks of his future kingdom. She calls him back to God’s purposes when his emotions are pulling him elsewhere. She sees what David himself cannot see in that moment. The irony is impossible to miss. God’s future king is corrected by a woman who has greater clarity than he does, and God uses her to remind him of who He is.
Because of her wisdom and courage, an entire household is spared. David is spared unnecessary bloodshed, and the future king is redirected toward faithfulness. Again, the story does not present Abigail as an exception to be explained away. She is a woman acting faithfully in the moment God has placed her in, and through her faithfulness, God accomplishes His purposes.
Stories like these are why I find some of our modern conversations so discouraging. Not because Christians disagree. Thoughtful disagreement has always existed within the church. What concerns me is how quickly our disagreements can become distorted. Somewhere along the way, the conversation shifts from faithfully wrestling with Scripture to suspicion. We stop listening. We begin assuming motives. Men become the problem. Women become the problem. Entire groups of people become caricatures rather than fellow image bearers.
Every time I witness it, my mind goes back to Genesis 3. The fall did not simply affect our relationship with God. It also affected our relationship with one another. The partnership described in Genesis 1 and 2 became strained. What was designed for mutual flourishing became marked by tension, misunderstanding, and mistrust. The enemy has always loved to distort what God calls good.
Which is why I think we should be careful when conversations about men and women start producing more suspicion than affection, more division than partnership, and more fear than gratitude. The church should be different.
So what do we do when every week brings another debate, another podcast clip, another article, or another social media argument?
First, stay rooted in the text. Do not let the loudest voices become your authority. Open your Bible. Read the stories. Pay attention to the women God highlights and ask why He included them. Sit with the tension. Wrestle with the details. Don’t bail because it gets confusing or because it leads you to study Greek words and church history. Dig, wrestle, and talk it through with other Believers. Let Scripture shape your imagination more than the internet.
Second, refuse to caricature one another. Most believers I know are not trying to diminish women or erase distinctions. They are trying to be faithful to Scripture. We may disagree on certain conclusions, but we can still honor one another as brothers and sisters in Christ.
Third, remember that your calling is bigger than an online debate. The kingdom of God has always moved forward through ordinary faithfulness. Through women who teach children, open their homes, disciple younger believers, serve their communities, run businesses, create beauty, encourage the weary, give generously, and proclaim the goodness of God wherever He has placed them.
And finally, do not spend so much time arguing about your place in the story that you forget to live it.
Rahab hung the cord. Deborah sat beneath the palm tree. Abigail stepped into the road. None of them knew how their stories would be remembered. None of them tried to build a platform. None of them spent their days defending their place in God’s plan. They simply responded in faith to what God had placed before them. And God used each of them in ways they likely never imagined. He still does.
The question has never been whether women have a place in God’s story. The question is whether we have eyes to see the place they have always held.
Posted on July 10, 2026
Jacki C. King is a respected and beloved Bible teacher, author, and dedicated ministry leader. Her passion involves guiding women toward a deep love for Jesus and His Word, encouraging them to embrace their mission in their homes, workplaces, and communities. She is the author of "The Calling of Eve: How Women of the Bible Inspire the Women of the Church" (Tyndale 2022). A proud native Texan, Jacki serves alongside her husband Josh, who serves as Lead Pastor of their local church, and their three boys. She holds a bachelor's degree in Biblical Studies and Ministry to Women from Criswell College, and a Master of Arts in Theological Studies from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.
Connect with Jacki on Twitter and Instagram at @JackiCKing
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