To the women in my life — and in the Body of Christ — I owe you something.

A confession.
And a promise.

For too long, I lived in my head. I thought respect was something I could agree with in theory but ignore in practice. I saw the inequality, the silence, the hurt that many women endured — and I explained it away with theology, culture, or fear.

I saw strong women sit down when they were called upon to stand up, and I did nothing.

I stayed in my head — because getting into my heart cost too much.

It’s easier to quote a verse than live out the gospel it points to. Easier to protect systems than to question them. Easier to hold onto comfort than to love courageously.

But the truth is: when I stayed in my head, I missed my relationship with God.

I missed intimacy with Him.

I turned faith into a set of ideas instead of a relationship. I forgot that Jesus didn’t just preach — He wept, healed, honored, and lifted women up. When I treated women with suspicion or silence, I wasn’t reflecting Christ. I was misrepresenting Him.                                                                                                                                                                   

“I have hidden your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.” — Psalm 119:11 That’s why the word is in my heart — to keep me from sinning.

I missed transformation.

I had knowledge without action. I could teach about love but not live it. God’s Word sat on my lips, not in my bones.

“Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” — James 2:17

I missed connection.

My relationships lacked depth because I was afraid of emotional honesty. Afraid of empathy. Afraid of letting go of power and control.

I didn’t know how to love like Christ — with self-sacrifice, not superiority.

“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” — Ephesians 5:25

I missed courage.

I talked about faith, but I didn’t step out in it. I avoided discomfort. I chose logic over love. I stayed safe in my head while others suffered.

“Be strong and courageous… the Lord your God will be with you.” — Joshua 1:9

I missed my purpose.

God had works prepared for me — but I was too busy defending my way of thinking to walk in them.

“We are God’s handiwork… created in Christ Jesus to do good works which God prepared beforehand for us to walk in .” — Ephesians 2:10

I missed grace.

Staying in my head gave me a place to hide from shame — but it never healed me. Only the heart — open to the Spirit — can do that.

“There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” — Romans 8:1

I missed influence.

I wanted to be a leader. But people aren’t changed by arguments. They’re changed by love.

“Let your light shine before others… that they may glorify your Father in heaven.” — Matthew 5:16

And I nearly missed eternity.

Respecting women isn’t a side issue. It’s a gospel issue. Because if I don’t honor the people made in God’s image — I’ve missed the entire point.

“Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…” — Matthew 6:20

To my sisters in Christ:

Forgive me for the times I didn’t listen — for the times I minimized your voice, your pain, or your calling. Forgive me for letting theology become a shield instead of a window into Christ.

You deserve more than my apology. You deserve my repentance. And you deserve my respect — not as a trend, but as truth.

To my brothers in Christ:

I’m not here to shame you — I’m here to wake us up.

We’ve been told for too long that leadership means control, that emotions are weakness, and that honoring women is only for Mother’s Day.

That’s a lie.

The gospel doesn’t call us to dominate — it calls us to die to ourselves.

To serve.
To love.
To lift up.
To follow Jesus — all the way to the cross, and through it to the other side.

We don’t need more head knowledge.
We need heart surrender.
We need the Holy Spirit.
We need to hide God’s Word in our hearts — and live it with our hands.

This is not about giving women a seat at the table. It’s about realizing it was never our table to begin with.

Christ is the head.
We are His body.
And without our sisters, the body is broken.

So let’s return.
Not to tradition.
Not to comfort.
But to Christ.

Let’s return to respect.

To silence women is to misrepresent the gospel.
To honor women as Christ did is to live the gospel.
The way forward is not argument, but love in action.