Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and Mary: women whose names rise like unexpected wildflowers from the genealogy of Jesus. A scarlet thread winds through their stories: through longing, scandal, courage, grief, motherhood, exile, and redemption, stitching their lives to the coming Messiah. I imagine them gathered in Heaven, sharing stories like sisters, marveling at the mysterious ways God wove beauty from brokenness. Their presence in the genealogy feels intentional and shimmering, a quiet reminder that God delights in bringing forth life from overlooked places. The Italian countryside surrounding them is a tribute to my seminary sisters—Christian, Shala, Jazmine, Sandra, and Kelley—whose companionship through Italy echoed that same sacred sisterhood rooted in Christ.
Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba, and Mary: women whose names rise like unexpected wildflowers from the genealogy of Jesus. A scarlet thread winds through their stories: through longing, scandal, courage, grief, motherhood, exile, and redemption, stitching their lives to the coming Messiah. I imagine them gathered in Heaven, sharing stories like sisters, marveling at the mysterious ways God wove beauty from brokenness. Their presence in the genealogy feels intentional and shimmering, a quiet reminder that God delights in bringing forth life from overlooked places. The Italian countryside surrounding them is a tribute to my seminary sisters—Christian, Shala, Jazmine, Sandra, and Kelley—whose companionship through Italy echoed that same sacred sisterhood rooted in Christ.
