
Encourage, Equip, Empower
Each month our very own amazing writers from South Texas publish a series of blog posts written with you in mind. Our desire is to encourage, equip, and empower you through stories, experiences, and insights from our writers and from God’s Word.
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Joy Beyond Understanding
“ But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.” Galatians 5:22-23 Summertime in the South is not for the faint of heart. Temperatures that soar to unbearable heights, iced tea that can’t seem to stay iced, and leather car interior that is torture whenever you get in…
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Peace in a Wild Workplace
I do not work in a church. I am involved in ministry full-time, but I also work a secular job to provide for my family. I don’t care where you work, whether it be in a church or out; if you work with people, it can be difficult. Feeling called to ministry, I have asked…
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Peace In the Wild
When I think about the phrase “peace in the wild,” I picture a leopardess in the middle of a jungle. I imagine the sound of monkeys hooting in the background while she cleans her paws. She’s laying down, feeling peaceful, she’s not worried about where her next meal will come from. She’s not anxious about…
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The Men of Advent-The Shepherds

Photo by Gu00fcl Iu015fu0131k on Pexels.com In the gospel of Luke 2:8-20 is the short account of the shepherds that God decided were the very first people he wanted to send a birth announcement to for His only Son and the Savior of the whole world.
In reading this account, I feel like this is a really important event in the Nativity story and yet Luke is the only one who recorded it as a part of the account of Jesus’ life. Matthew talked about His royal lineage and how the wise men and the king became aware of his birth; a much less spectacular announcement in my opinion. Mark and John skipped right over His early life and went straight to the beginning of his earthly ministry.
While I am glad that Luke included this detail, I have to admit that I have always been somewhat puzzled by it. Why shepherds? Why not kings or church leaders or even the families of His parents?
Through the years of studying my Bible, it occurs to me that God has a special affinity for shepherds. Moses was shepherding his father-in-law’s flock when God spoke to him from the burning bush and David was caring for his father’s sheep when God called him to be king. But it still begs the question; why? Their job is dirty and rough. They sleep outside with the animals and spend their days and nights watching over beings that don’t thank them for that care. This is not a job that anyone could mistake for glamorous or even one that I can imagine anyone choosing.
The Bible specifically says that these shepherds were awake when the announcement came. They were “watching their flocks by night.” They were making sure that no harm came to them and ensuring that the sheep rested. Most jobs, even back then, had a quitting time when you could go home and care for your own needs but not this one. They were on-call night and day. They ate and slept at work.
Initially, only one angel came to them. Luke says that when the angel appeared “the glory of the Lord surrounded them.” From this we can take that something about this encounter was not like an encounter with a regular person. In movies it’s usually depicted as a light or sound that lets the shepherds know that this was an angel. In reality, we don’t know, but it was somehow apparent that this encounter was unusual.
The angel immediately has to reassure them that they don’t need to fear. This single messenger delivered the news of the birth of Jesus saying:
“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior-yes, the Messiah, the Lord-has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David! And you will recognize him by this sign: You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, laying in a manger.” (Luke 2:10-12 NLT)
Then Luke says that the angel was joined by “a vast host of others-the armies of heaven.” This is where we get the image of the choir of heaven singing:
“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
(Luke 2:14 KJV)
I will venture to assume that this was not usually part of the job. If it was me, I would probably look to my nearest neighbor and say, “Did that really just happen?!” Call me a skeptic, I guess, but I know I would be questioning that message.
“I’ll find the Messiah-the one we’ve all been waiting for since Isaiah prophesied about him 700 hundred years ago-in a barn?! Wrapped in strips of leftover cloth?!”
But they didn’t question, as I would have. They just jumped up and said, “Let’s go see!” (No one thought it was weird to pop in on some strangers immediately after child birth?) At this point it is also safe to assume that the angel gave them more precise directions to find Jesus because they were able to find him in one night. Bethlehem was not a small city even back then.
Finally, scripture tells us that once they had seen Jesus, they told everyone what happened and that the angels said He was the Messiah.
After all of this study, I still don’t know why God chose the shepherds but a lot of what God does leaves me with questions I hope I get a chance to ask when I get to Heaven. However, God did show me some things that draw a parallel to my own life and maybe it will to yours as well.
First, I sometimes feel like I have a dirty and rough job. Whether it’s my job outside my home or my job as a mother and homemaker, I have felt like I work with people and for people who do not thank me very often. As if I am insignificant and guilty for not doing enough-even though I eat and sleep at work a lot. My kid had a chocolate milkshake for breakfast yesterday. (To some, that sentence seems entirely unconnected to this point but most of you will get what I mean.)
But I thank God that we do not live by our feelings but we are sustained by His word (Matthew 4:4). His word tells us that He sees us as worthy of speaking to directly. He sees us as worthy of a purpose. I may never live in a palace here on earth but He has a plan for my life; a plan to prosper me and not to harm me. He has a plan of hope and a plan for my future. (Jeremiah 29:11) And He has one for you too.
Secondly, I worry about not having the time to hear from God. I make time for my daily devotion and praise but often it takes place in my car on my way somewhere or while I’m washing dishes. I think we have this idea that we need to be sitting in a pristine office or kneeling at an altar to hear from Him. But God came to the shepherds while they were working. He spoke to them on the night shift. God sees our efforts to set aside time to spend with Him and he also sees us trying to fulfill the responsibilities He has given us. He honors them both. He can come to anyone, anytime, any place He wants to. And He wants to talk to you whether you am a shepherd or a king.
Finally, I often wonder, “why me?” Why did God send His Son for me? Why did he entrust me with His words to share with people? And to those questions, I still have no answer but I am thankful and humbled everyday that He did. I pray that we would all become more like those shepherds who heard from God and immediately took off to share it without hesitation; without self doubt or fear.
Father, thank you for coming to this earth. Thank you for being willing to wrap your divinity in human skin, to live a human life with all of its pain, and to carry our sins to the cross for our salvation. Thank you for choosing to tell the shepherds in a field outside Bethlehem about your Son in such a spectacular way. God, help us this Advent season, to remember that you have a plan for our lives that is not dependent on any great accomplishment of our own. Most of all, help us to tell everyone who will listen about a God that regards shepherds as highly as kings.
In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
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The Men of Advent- Joseph

Matthew 1:18-25
I sat there with my husband in a coffee shop just beneath the social services office where our appointment to meet our new son was scheduled to happen within the hour. We had arrived much too early, so I ordered an Americano that I was too nervous to drink so that we had an excuse to wait inside and escape the damp chill of November in South Korea. I stared into my steaming hot coffee, a million questions racing through my mind:
What will he think of me?
Will he bond with me?
Will he grow up wishing I was someone else?
I felt incredibly inadequate for the journey ahead. And then I caught a glimpse of him in the hallway- shaggy black hair and dark, almond eyes, wearing a tiny trench coat and laughing as he ran to the elevator with his foster mother close behind. My breath caught in my throat and tears instantly sprang to my eyes as I saw my son for the first time. My son. The weight of those words settled deep into my chest as I thought of the conflicting narratives that would make a child without my DNA my son. It was a miracle, and yet-
he would not be my son if it wasn’t for brokenness.
Adoption is beautiful and redemptive, yes. I am deeply grateful for the immense privilege of raising a precious son who was not born to me. And still, it cannot be denied that adoption is born out of brokenness- broken systems, broken families, a broken world. As I held my new son that night in our hotel room, his eyes full of sadness and his body shaking with sobs, I stepped into that brokenness and it became my own.
A little over a month later, we found ourselves back at home in Texas, Christmas celebrations in full-swing and adjusting to life with a busy toddler who was now laughing and playing with his big sisters. As we began to read the account of the Christmas story as a family like always, I suddenly found a new kinship with Joseph, the adoptive father of the newborn Messiah. There isn’t much written about Joseph’s life, but as I read the familiar passages about his integrity, his dreams, and his surrender to the radical plan of God, I recognized a thread in the miraculous weaving together of the holy family that I’m not sure I had seen before:
Jesus wouldn’t have been Joseph’s son if it wasn’t for brokenness.
It was the brokenness in this world that compelled God to send His Son to it. Without brokenness, there would have been no need for a Savior, no need for this unlikely family from Nazareth. Joseph must have known this. He must have understood that his role as a father to the Christ child was a miraculous redemption of a flawed humanity. And although fatherhood would come to him in an unconventional fashion, he said yes anyway. I wondered if on that long trek to Bethlehem, Joseph held the same questions about Jesus as I did about our son in his heart:
What will he think of me?
Will he bond with me?
Will he grow up wishing I was someone else?
It must have been a daunting task, to become the earthly father to the Son of God. I imagine Joseph felt incredibly inadequate for the journey ahead, his own brokenness and flaws glaringly obvious in the face of such a holy assignment. When Joseph finally laid eyes on his newborn child, he didn’t recognize his own features in that tiny face. Instead, he saw the extravagant grace of God- a gift of His incarnate presence wrapped in swaddling clothes. I imagine Joseph’s breath caught in his throat and tears sprang to his eyes as he saw Him for the first time- his son. The weight of it settled in his chest. What a miracle that God would overlook his flaws and redeem the world’s brokenness to give him a son. He learned that night what we all need to hear-
Sometimes the most beautiful gifts come from brokenness.
The Christmas story illustrates this truth in the most stunningly beautiful way: A world lost in sin receives a gift it doesn’t deserve. An imperfect, unsuspecting young man becomes the adoptive father to the newborn King. A Son born into darkness becomes the Light of the World. Today, may we be reminded that our brokenness is no match for God. He gathers our loose threads tattered from sin and suffering and, like Joseph, weaves us into a family through a Son not born to us, but for us. A Son born into brokenness in order to redeem it.
Father, thank You that You did not despise our brokenness, but You showed compassion toward us through the extravagance of your Son Jesus coming to earth to bring redemption to us. We are overwhelmed by Your goodness. Help us to recognize the places in our lives where You are bringing beauty out of our brokenness. May we experience a deeper gratitude than ever before for Your love that redeems us and makes us whole. Amen.
Check out our previous series, “The Women of Advent” on the blog as well!
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A Bride Undergoing Restoration
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: the old has gone, the new is here.” (2 Corinthians 5:17 NIV)
Let’s take one last trip to the bridal store to discuss gown restoration.
Bridal gowns are typically used once. They are often put away worn but not washed. When satin and silks sit in attics for years, the stains eat away at the delicate fabrics. What was barely noticeable – a dribble of punch or a smudge on the hem – becomes grossly exaggerated over time. Wives are often astonished when we pull our dress out of storage twenty-five years later to discover discolorations and yellowed sequins.

There’s a trend right now of brides wearing their mother’s dress to the rehearsal dinner. I’m all for it. An eighties bridal gown stripped of it’s pouffy sleeves and dripping pearls makes for a dashing party dress. I love the sentimentality of passing down something so special to be worn again.
Bridal gown remaking is yet another service we offer in the salon. And I believe there’s yet another illustration for us as the bride of Christ.
I asked Jesus into my heart as a first grader. My mom was preaching in a white clapboard country church. I now know her text to be Revelation 3:20, but she was imploring the congregation to open their heart to Jesus. Her words were illustrated by a familiar painting hung high in the sanctuary; Jesus standing at a door without a handle, a tear in His eye as He awaits entrance.
Apparently I’ve always been an empath and didn’t want to make Jesus cry. Mom’s words swayed my soul and I happily opened the door to my heart to invite my Savior in. My over-active imagination envisioned Him hanging gingham curtains and setting a vase of flowers on the kitchen table as we learned to share a home together.
This open-hearted relationship lasted almost a decade, unquestioned until high school. In the throes of teen angst, I experienced a crisis of faith. There were several contributing factors, but essentially, I felt let down by God. I was certain He existed, I just wasn’t convince He was good. I spent my sophomore year making poor choices, but by summer camp, I felt holy breath on the back of my neck; God was chasing me down again and I was helpless to resist.
Ultimately, it was a Michael W. Smith video that did me in. It’s a little cheesy now, but back in the day, Secret Ambition was the goriest live action crucifixion I’d seen. Again, I could not make my Savior cry. I opened the door of my heart once more; confessing my sins and recommitting my life.
The transformation was substantial. My friends noticed. My teachers made comments. My parents were wowed. If social media had been a thing, my relationship status would have been updated. I was all about Jesus, and truly, that’s never changed.
By the time graduation rolled around, I had a life verse. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, behold a new creation has come: the old is gone, the new is here.” (2 Corinthians 5:17) I had been reborn. I was being made new.
I’ve made a few trips around the sun since high school graduation and my love for Jesus continues to cultivate new habits. One of those habits is the prayerful selection of a word for each year. In 2018 my word was restoration. As I read through the bible from cover to cover that year and I was absolutely floored by how many times scripture refers to restoration. It became incredibly obvious, when repeated from Genesis to Revelation, that God’s goal for His people is restoration.


Let’s circle back to the bridal store and think again about the mother’s gowns being remade. It is astounding to see what a master seamstress can accomplish with what the world would throw away. Tired wedding dresses become party garments, baptismal gowns, ring-bearer pillows, bouquet wraps or even skillfully ornamented veils. Essentially, if you can dream it, the tailors can make it happen.

“And He who was seated on the the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also He said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” (Revelation 21:5 NIV)
We, too, are being made new. God is continually working the old and stained stretches of our story into something new and useful and lovely. It is His joy to take us out of the shadows and into the light of His restorative attention. He’s not making another gown or trinket, He’s carefully crafting us into His image. This process isn’t done upon salvation, it’s only just begun.
Lord, we are grateful to be made new. We acknowledge that our old self is tattered and torn, stained beyond recognition. Yet You wash us whiter than snow with Your sacrifice, Your Word and Your Spirit. We submit ourselves again, surrendered to the scissors, the needle and thread. Rework our tired frames for Your glory. Amen.
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A Bride Deconstructing
“Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord.” (Lamentations 3:40 NIV)
Again, I invite you to revisit the bridal salon where I work, only this visit might not be as pleasant as the last two. One of my regular tasks is seam-ripping. I’m not a tailor by any stretch of the imagination, but the two talented seamstresses we have on staff are continually overwhelmed with alterations. Gown modifications are a dying art and there’s a industry-wide seamstress shortage. (Turns out it’s far harder to reassemble than disassemble.) In our salon, we’ve found that the consultants can alleviate a bit of the burden on our seamstresses by ripping seams on their behalf.
Seam-ripping is a tedious business. It involves hours bent over fine fabrics (tulle, lace, silks and satins) searching for the right stitches to snip. It’s easy to tug on the wrong thread; resulting in a snag of precious materials. Even amidst gown deconstruction, there’s a right way to do it.


As I’ve hunched over these dresses in an effort to disassemble, I’ve thought a lot about the next generation and their quest to deconstruct their faith. Awareness of church hurt is at an all-time high and in it’s wake, many people have abandoned the belief system that has upheld humanity for thousands of years.
Perhaps there’s also a way to deconstruct faith rightly?
Ripping seams has allowed for considerable time to assess my own major faith alterations. I grew up in church. My mother was a Methodist minister and my father a devout Catholic. From infancy to adulthood, I traipsed back and forth between Mass and Sunday service, catechism and Sunday school, the rectory and the parsonage.
While I was still in high school, I began investigating the footings of my faith. There were aspects of the Catholic church I didn’t comprehend. The veneration of Mary and transubstantiation tripped me up, I wanted to know where those teachings found their origin. I also had deep concerns about the Methodist church. As far back as 1995, there were doctrinal statements that felt out of gait with the gospels. In those years, I distinctly remember wrestling with the authority of scripture; if some of it was applicable and some of it wasn’t, what parts do we pay attention to and who decides what is true?
In college, I wandered into a third denomination when a cute boy named Rob invited me to his youth group. Morningside Assembly felt like home from my very first visit. When Rob and I married, I settled into an expression of faith that seemed to match my enthusiasm for Jesus.
In my thirties, I experienced a call to ministry. I started attending the district school of ministry and set out into the arduous process of sorting through my personal doctrine. Twenty-seven courses forced me to examine my beliefs; retaining those supported by scripture and discarding those that proved superfluous. The undertaking started with bible courses but continues daily through scripture consumption and personal application.
By today’s vernacular, I deconstructed. I intentionally pulled at the stitches of my faith, picking it apart to find out what exactly what it was made of. But I didn’t leave it as a pile of scraps. I sat with an open Bible and the presence of the living God. Together, we intentionally reconstructed a faith more in keeping with the testimony of scripture and the leading of the Spirit.
At the bridal shop, when I have completed my part of the process, I’m left with a hole-y dress ready for reassembly. The seamstress must do her work or the gown remains unwearable. I deconstruct under careful supervision. Left to my own devices, the exquisite dress could be reduced to a pile of expensive scraps, useful to no one. Something with such intrinsic value could wind up in the trash, fit for nothing.
Turns out, the most crucial part of deconstruction is the reconstruction.
When we deconstruct rightly, it include reconstruction. At the end of reconstruction, we have a better-fitting faith, like a bride with a made-for-her gown. It’s a delicate process, but faith is too precious to handle callously. There’s far too much at stake.
As I prayed about this blogpost, I felt like it might be helpful to list some guidelines for deconstruction and reconstruction.
Consult the Creator often.
I do not rip stitches unsupervised. There is always a master seamstress within reach. It’s better to ask a question before the whole gown comes apart. We only rip seams with the end goal in mind.
Likewise, when we are picking apart our faith experience, it’s crucial to stay in contact with our Creator. He has the answers for all our questions. He can clearly envision the final design. He’s a living God who must be included in our deconstruction/reconstruction efforts if we are to experience any measure of success.
Let the pattern speak louder than the experience.
In the sewing room, we must be careful not to cut away something that is essential to the structure of the dress. Designers have built a gown with wearability at the forefront. In our zeal, if we fail to follow the pattern we may wind up with something unwearable. The pattern is critical to the function of the gown.
Similarly, scripture (the pattern) is crucial. Unchanging. Our emotions waver. We must give scripture greater value than our feelings.
Salvage as much as possible.
We retain almost everything in the bridal salon. Each appliqué, bead and button has potential for re-use. When we measure twice and cut once the discard pile is surprisingly small.
Likewise, God is sovereign and He’s allowed parts of our story on purpose. Oftentimes He has a plan for the pieces we would prefer to omit altogether. Refuse to discard apart from divine supervision; you may be surprised by what He can accomplish with what you already have on hand.
If anything, seam ripping has taught me that deconstruction doesn’t need to be scary. Deconstruction is a necessary means to reconstruction, and when it’s done rightly, we wind up with a better-fitting faith.
“They examined the scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true. As a result, many of them believed, as did also a number of prominent Greek women and many Greek men.” (Acts 17:21 NIV)
Deconstruction followed by reconstruction yields belief. And belief, my friends, is surprisingly contagious.
Lord, we have questions. We’ve heard and seen things that don’t represent You well. Please assist us as we examine our faith. Speak to us through scriptures. Lead us by Your Spirit. Give us the stamina to disassemble the seams that don’t honor You. Help us know what to keep and what to discard. Show us how to reassemble our faith into something stronger. Amen.
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A Pure and Spotless Bride

“Just as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by water the washing of water through the word, and to present her to Himself as a radiant church, without rain or wrinkle or any other blemish but holy and blameless. (Ephesians 5:25-26 NIV)
This text is rooted in the context of marital relationship and Apostle Paul is prodding husbands to treat their wives as Christ treats the church. Paul paints a beautiful picture of Jesus’ vision for His people: a pure and spotless bride.
Let’s take a mental trip back to the bridal salon where I work. Gown care is one of the services we offer. After the big day, the bride may bring her dress back in for cleaning and preservation.
As consultants, is our goal to walk with our brides from selection to public presentation, making sure she looks and feels her very best. We carefully tend to every stitch, button and sequin. We will bend over backwards to make our portion of their day a success.
Some of our brides choose to have pre-wedding portraits commissioned. When that’s the case, we’ll factor the photos into their fittings so the dress is steamed and ready for first wear. If they choose to return the dress between pictures and ceremony, we’ll steam it again to refresh for the big day.
That being said, one of our brides got caught in the rain on picture day, only not in the way that you’d expect. A rare San Antonio downpour had left her portrait location soggy and she returned to the salon with scattered stains pockmarked all over her white satin ballgown. It seemed to be ruined before the wedding had even begun!
Not to worry, we spot-clean, too! Under strong lights, I assessed the gown. Maybe fifteen yards of unadorned satin was spotted from bodice to hem, cathedral train included. I safety-pinned each and every smudge I could find, careful not to mar the delicate fabric. 25 pins in, I heaved the dress to the hanging chain and ironing board; where I proceeded to hand treat each and every blemish held fast with a pin. Some of them I addressed twice for good measure. When I was through, I left the gown hanging to dry, committing to come back in a bit for another inspection.
When I returned to the task a few hours later, I expected to find a clean gown. All the previously pinned places were now spotless. But in their absence, smaller spots had become visible. These marks had been previously camouflaged by the larger, darker spots. In their absence, the lesser defects were now undeniable distractions from then gown’s returning beauty. I methodically moved through the dress a second time, addressing each new, small stain with great diligence. Again, believing my task was finished, I stepped away to let the gown dry.
Imagine my shock when I came back to discover even more obscure stains! The tiny marks were now obnoxious in the folds of pure white satin. The last cleaning required inch by inch inspection. The slightest discoloration caught my attention! I went round and round that gown three or four more times. At last, I called my coworker in to help inspect and she agreed, the gown was finally ready to be worn for a groom.

As I labored over that simple but serious task, I thought long and hard about my own righteousness. I came into faith as a wedding dress from the rain. My initial stains were apparent and painful. Dishonesty. Vulgarity. Manipulation. Anger. Hatefulness.The Lord worked diligently: hunched long hours over my soul scrubbing out the ugliness that was plain as day to those around me.
Once we worked through those big, obnoxious blemishes, the seemingly smaller offenses, previously unseen motivations, came into sight. Selfishness. Pride. Idolatry. Greed. Personal preservation. These once-hidden hinderances still needed to be scrubbed out. Every bit of progress is rewarded by better sight; the more subtle stains stand out against the soul.
This sanctification process is unending because our Groom’s goal is pure white. Day by day, inch by inch, He deals with the blemishes inflicted by fallen flesh. Endlessly faithful, He will keep at it until our wedding day, when He comes to collect us and take us Home. Much like my last round with the satin gown, He is systematically cleaning us, stain by stain, patiently restoring us into an even better reflection of His perfection. He has His heart set on a pure, spotless bride.

Ladies, we can cooperate with the effort. The satin gown I cleaned did not resist my labors. It hung limp in my hands as I scrubbed and treated and ironed to my heart’s content.
Similarly, we can surrender to sanctification; submitting our souls to the mirror of the Word and the searchlight of the Spirit. We can respond in repentance when sin is discovered. We can seek to walk in a way that keeps our souls as clean as possible. We can come to Him at the initial discovery of each and every spot.
“Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love; according to Your great compassion blot out my transgressions.” (Psalm 51: 1-2 NIV)
“Cleanse me with hyssop and I will be clean, wash me and I will be whiter than snow.” (Psalm 51:7 NIV)
“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit in me.” (Psalm 51:10 NIV)
Lord, today we see clearly how sin interferes with Your vision for Your bride. We confess our shortcomings and commit to cooperation with Your cleansing. Search our hearts. Scrub out any offense You find. Sanctify us entirely as we submit to You. Amen.

About STX Women
We are the Women’s Ministries branch of the South Texas Assemblies of God.
Women across South Texas desire a community where we celebrate each other and share each other’s burdens.
Together, we walk out our God-given purpose in our family, church, and community!
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