Woman: Rejected, Reborn Again

Almost a year ago, Rachel Held Evans passed away suddenly. On June 1, 2019, I watched the livestream of her funeral while sitting in my favorite chair with Polly snuggled up next to me, and I bawled my head off. While grappling with my faith and frustration with hypocrisy and double standards woven in and through the American evangelical church, her words had been carrying me. And though I had never met her, Rachel helped me dispel many untruths I’d learned as a child and adolescent, untruths that held my heart and spirit hostage for years.

When I was in high school, I began to see talents and gifts of mine stirring under the surface, pushing their way up through the fresh soil of my youthful self. But because of the church community in which I grew up, these gifts were limited, apparently, because I was not a man. I could teach, but only to girls. I could be on stage during worship services but only to sing, not pray or read scripture or preach unless the room was only full of women or kids in elementary school. All because I was female and not male.

The message all of this communicated to me was: you are missing this very important thing that you have no control over (being a man) that would make you qualified to do the work you think you’re being called to do. And because you are missing this thing, you’re going to have to find some other calling. In fact, since God says women shouldn’t do those things, this calling couldn’t have been given to you by God. So it’s probably something that you’ve misinterpreted or misunderstood, or worse, have conjured up all on your own because you want attention.

Some of these things were actually said to me, but most of them were simply implied in our church culture. Or said in my presence about other women by well-meaning church members and leaders.

To be clear, my parents always encouraged me to pursue my gifts. They were some of my biggest supporters (and still are). From gifting me a brief internship with missionaries in the Dominican Republic for my sixteenth birthday to advocating for me when a local church leader tried to undermine my standing in the church because I was pursuing a divorce from my then-husband, my parents have walked with me through this life so faithfully. But the culture we grow up in can be so suffocating, and in my case, the message from our church culture in my youth stomped out any truth my parents spoke to me during these years.

I stumbled through the rest of high school in a bit of a haze, feeling unseen by the people I loved and trusted, seeking solace in things like relationships with cute boys and unhealthy amounts of exercise and obsession over food, either depriving myself or indulging myself depending on the day. And in all of it, what was lost the most was the love I felt from God. Because not only had my church rejected my gifts but so had God. And in rejecting my gifts, hadn’t he rejected me, too?

From that time on, I’ve been walking with a limp. Not only did I feel rejected by my Creator and my church community, the people our lives were centered on, but I also started doubting my intuition. I questioned my ability to see and know myself. I questioned my ability to hear from God at all. I felt so stupid for getting it so wrong.

Looking back, what enrages me most about this is that I never considered that maybe the church had gotten it wrong, not me. And it wasn’t until I stumbled upon Rachel Held Evans’s blog a few years ago that I even entertained this notion.

The first essay of hers I ever read was “Confessions of an accidental feminist.” What started with an attitude of skepticism (because how could a Christian also be a feminist?) shifted to dumbfoundedness and then relief and then open weeping.

Evans’s perspective and her truth-telling about who Jesus is and how he treated women contrasted with what my church upbringing taught me about women gave me the permission I needed to start asking some pretty big damn questions. Not just about my religious experiences in childhood but also about who I am as a beloved woman in the eyes of God and about how God sees all of us.

The optimist in me would like to wrap up this whole recounting and reflection with a neat little bow. But that’s just not real life. Eight years later, I am still walking with a limp. But the more I read the Scriptures, and the more I surround myself with wisdom and insight from people who don’t align themselves with the complementarian beliefs my childhood was steeped in, the closer I am drawn to the heart of God and find peace in seeing who he has created me to be. In a way, it’s been a sort of second rebirth for me.

And you know what? I think that all of those years ago, when I felt God nudging me to be a truth-teller about his love, to teach about his mercy and unending lovingkindness and acceptance of “the other,” I think that I didn’t get it wrong after all. Thanks be to God.

Mama’s Spaghetti & Meatballs

We’ve gotten a lot of rain this week. Couple that dreariness with the shorter daylight hours this time of year and you get the want for some warm, comfort food, right? The boys’ answer to that in the Talley house is almost always “mama’s spaghetti and meatballs.”

Because the scratch-made meatballs cook in the sauce, they develop a delicious flavor and tenderness that can’t be beat. You don’t have to sauté or brown them in a skillet beforehand, which cuts out a lot of time and effort.

PROTIP: Freeze the extra sauce and use next week as a stand-in marinara for other Italian recipes or use it as a dipping sauce for crusty bread.

Even though this meal is ready in less than and hour, it checks off all the boxes for us. Don’t let the whole idea of making meatballs from scratch scare you away. This recipe is easy-peasy, and you’ll probably have lots of leftover sauce to freeze for your next spaghetti supper!

Mama’s Spaghetti & Meatballs | Yields 6-8 entree portions


  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 1 28-oz. can crushed tomatoes
  • 3 8-oz. cans tomato paste
  • 1 cup water
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced and divided
  • 1 drop Vitality Oregano
  • 1 teaspoon dried basil
  • 2 dried bay leaves
  • 1 lb. ground beef (I use 85/15 ground sirloin)
  • 1/2 cup Italian seasoned breadcrumbs
  • 2 eggs, lightly beaten
  • 1/2 cup grated parmesan
  • salt and pepper to taste


  1. In a large pot, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Sauté onion for four to five minutes until translucent.
  2. Add crushed tomatoes, tomato paste, water, sugar, two cloves of minced garlic, Vitality Oregano, basil, and bay leaves. Stir gently to combine and cover. Lower to medium heat and allow to simmer while you make the meatballs, stirring occasionally.
  3. In a large bowl, break ground beef up into smaller pieces using a wooden spoon or your fingers. add breadcrumbs, beaten eggs, the remaining two cloves of minced garlic, grated parmesan, and salt and pepper to taste. Gently combine all ingredients together, making sure not to over mix since that can make the meat too tough.
  4. Roll out meatballs that are about one inch in diameter and drop them one by one into the sauce. Simmer on medium-low for about 25 minutes or until the internal temperature of meatballs reaches 160 degrees or higher.
  5. Serve over fresh pasta of your choice (our family prefers linguine or spaghetti) and garnish with extra parmesan.

Note: If you aren’t yet cooking with Young Living Vitality oils, you should be! In the meantime, you can sub the Oregano Vitality with 1 tablespoon of dried oregano. :)