Fiercely, Jessica

I’ve written about the lioness before.

The mother. The protector. The woman who will move heaven and earth when it comes to her children.

But there’s another side of her.

The wife.

And if you thought the mama lioness was something, let me introduce you to the woman who stands beside her husband.

Because that woman?

She’s a force of her own.

Everyone recognizes the lion.

The mane. The roar. The king of the jungle.

He’s the symbol of strength, authority, and leadership.

But what about the lioness?

She’s the hunter. The protector. The one who helps sustain the pride. And while the lion has his own battles to fight, her strength is just as essential.

She doesn’t wait for him to become weak before she becomes strong.

The lioness doesn’t have to lose her claws for the lion to keep his crown.

And if that isn’t a picture of the kind of marriage I believe in, I don’t know what is.

Two Strong People. One Marriage.

I’ve never believed that a strong woman needs a weak man.

Quite the opposite, actually.

I married a strong man. A man with convictions. A man who leads, serves, protects, and stands firm in what he believes. A man who doesn’t need his wife to fight his battles for him.

And he married a woman who is every bit as strong-willed.

Bless his heart.

But here’s something I’ve come to appreciate about marriage.

His strength doesn’t diminish mine. And mine doesn’t threaten his.

We aren’t competing for who gets to be the strongest person in the room.

We bring different strengths to the same table.

Sometimes we approach things differently. Sometimes we disagree. Sometimes one of us is ready to charge ahead while the other is thinking three steps down the road.

And sometimes we switch roles before the other one even realizes it.

That’s marriage.

At least, that’s ours.

I don’t need to make myself smaller for my husband to stand tall. And he doesn’t have to surrender an ounce of his masculinity for me to be the woman God created me to be.

We aren’t two halves trying to make one whole person.

We’re two whole people who made a covenant to walk through life together.

And when life gets difficult, that covenant means something.

The Lioness Doesn’t Only Protect Her Cubs

When we talk about a woman’s protective instincts, we almost always talk about motherhood.

And understandably so.

There’s something primal about the love a mother has for her children.

But somewhere along the way, I think we forget that a wife’s love can be just as fierce.

It’s different, of course.

My husband isn’t my child.

He doesn’t need mothering, rescuing, or someone making his decisions for him.

He is my partner.

My equal in worth. My counterpart in this life. The man I chose, and continue to choose, through every season.

And when you love someone that deeply, their burdens don’t suddenly become irrelevant just because they’re capable of carrying them.

You can know someone is strong and still hate watching them hurt.

You can know someone is capable and still want to defend them.

You can trust someone’s judgment and still feel every protective instinct in your body come alive when life gets ugly.

His ability to stand on his own has never changed my desire to stand beside him.

That’s not weakness.

That’s partnership.

And perhaps that’s what I love most about the lioness as a wife.

She isn’t fierce because her husband lacks strength.

She’s fierce because she has strength of her own, and she chooses to bring it into their marriage.

When Love Gets Loud

Now, I’m not going to pretend that my particular brand of fierce is always graceful.

Sometimes it’s thoughtful and measured.

Sometimes it’s patient and prayerful.

And sometimes my mouth is halfway through a sentence before my brain has finished deciding whether it should be said.

The Lord is still working on that one.

But I think there’s an important distinction between being a woman who enjoys conflict and being a woman who refuses to abandon her convictions when conflict comes.

I don’t wake up looking for battles.

I would much rather spend my days loving my family, laughing with my husband, raising our children, and enjoying the life we have built.

But life doesn’t always cooperate with our preferences.

There are seasons when the people you love face things you cannot prevent.

There are moments when you witness hurt you cannot erase.

And there are times when the very things you believe in are tested.

That’s when you learn something about yourself.

Not just what you’re willing to fight for.

But why.

Because fierce love isn’t about having the loudest voice or getting the last word.

It’s about conviction.

It’s about loyalty.

It’s about refusing to let difficult seasons convince you to abandon what matters.

And sometimes, yes, it means finding your voice when silence would be easier.

Grace does not require silence. And strength does not require cruelty.

I believe both of those things can be true.

I’m still learning how to live them out at the same time.

The Battles We Carry

One of the things marriage has taught me is that two people can experience the same difficult season in completely different ways.

One may process quietly.

The other may need to talk.

One may be ready to move forward.

The other may still be trying to make sense of what happened.

And neither response automatically means one person cares more.

That’s something worth remembering.

Because when you love someone fiercely, it’s easy to assume your way of responding is the way love should look.

But marriage requires more than passion.

It requires understanding.

It requires listening.

It requires recognizing that the person standing beside you has their own thoughts, feelings, convictions, and ways of carrying difficult things.

My husband and I don’t have to respond identically to stand united.

We don’t have to agree on every approach to remain committed to the same values.

And we certainly don’t have to become carbon copies of one another to have a strong marriage.

In fact, I think some of the beauty of our marriage is found in those differences.

We challenge each other.

We sharpen each other.

And occasionally, we probably test every ounce of patience the other one possesses.

But beneath all of that is a choice.

To keep showing up.

To keep choosing each other.

To remember that whatever life brings, we aren’t opponents.

We’re on the same side.

When the Lioness Has to Trust the Lion of Judah

Here’s where things get a little uncomfortable for me.

Because I can talk all day about strength, conviction, and standing firm.

Those things come pretty naturally.

But surrender?

That’s another story.

Especially when something matters deeply to me.

I’ve been reflecting on a particular verse in Romans lately:

“Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’” — Romans 12:19 (ESV)

Now that’s a beautiful scripture.

Until you actually have to live it.

Because there’s a part of human nature that wants things made right.

We want truth to prevail.

We want wrongs acknowledged.

We want fairness.

And sometimes, if we’re being completely transparent, we want God to handle things just a little faster.

Preferably by Friday.

But I’m learning that trusting God doesn’t mean abandoning conviction.

It doesn’t mean pretending something doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t mean that seeking accountability is somehow incompatible with extending grace.

What it means is recognizing that justice and vengeance are not the same thing.

I can stand firm in truth without allowing bitterness to take root.

I can love fiercely without letting anger become my identity.

I can pursue what is right without believing I am personally responsible for controlling every outcome.

And I can trust that God sees what others may never understand.

The things nobody else knows.

The sacrifices nobody applauds.

The prayers nobody hears.

The burdens people carry quietly.

He sees it all.

And perhaps the greatest challenge for a woman who is naturally inclined to fight is remembering that the Lion of Judah never asked me to take His place.

He asks for faithfulness.

Not control.

I’m working on remembering that.

Some days more successfully than others.

A Wife, Not a Shadow

And maybe that’s part of what I’m learning.

God didn’t give me strength so I could control everything around me. But He didn’t give it to me so I could spend my life pretending it isn’t there, either.

I think sometimes we’ve gotten the picture of a strong marriage all wrong.

As though one person must become quieter for the other to be heard. Smaller for the other to be respected. Less for the other to be more.

But when I look at Scripture, I see something different.

I see the Proverbs 31 woman. A woman who conducts business, makes decisions, provides for her household, and is described as clothed in strength and dignity.

And right there in the middle of her story, Scripture tells us:

“The heart of her husband trusts in her, and he will have no lack of gain.” — Proverbs 31:11 (ESV)

Not tolerates her.

Trusts her.

Her strength wasn’t presented as a threat to her husband. It was an asset to their household.

I see Priscilla and Aquila, a husband and wife working side by side in ministry. Two people using their gifts together for something greater than themselves.

And then there’s Genesis 2:18, where God describes creating a helper suitable for Adam.

Somewhere along the way, I think we’ve allowed the word helper to sound like lesser.

But a helper isn’t necessarily someone standing behind you waiting for instructions.

A helper can be someone standing shoulder to shoulder with you. Someone whose strengths complement your own. Someone who challenges you, encourages you, and helps carry the responsibilities of the life you’ve built together.

Being a strong wife doesn’t mean challenging my husband’s strength. And honoring his leadership doesn’t require surrendering mine.

I respect my husband. I admire his leadership. I value his judgment.

And none of those things require me to become a smaller version of the woman God created me to be.

I am not his competition. I am his companion.

Not a shadow.

Not a substitute.

Not a second version of him.

His wife.

And I believe there’s something incredibly powerful about a marriage where two strong people recognize that neither has to become less for the other to be more.

Because Scripture is full of women who were never called to be powerless.

The wisdom of Abigail. The courage of Esther. The leadership of Deborah. The faithfulness of Priscilla. The strength and dignity of the Proverbs 31 woman.

Different women. Different callings. Different circumstances.

But each a reminder that God has never needed women to be weak in order to accomplish His purpose.

And the lioness? She’s in good company.

Still Fierce. Still Learning.

I don’t know what every season of marriage will bring.

I know there will be beautiful ones.

I know there will be difficult ones.

And I know there will be seasons that reveal parts of ourselves we didn’t even realize were there.

But I also know this.

I didn’t make a covenant to love my husband only when life was easy.

I didn’t promise to stand beside him only when everyone agreed with us.

And I certainly didn’t promise to become a quieter, smaller version of myself when life got uncomfortable.

I promised to love him.

To honor him.

To walk beside him.

And sometimes that love is soft.

Sometimes it’s patient.

Sometimes it’s sitting together in silence because there simply aren’t words for what you’re carrying.

And sometimes?

Sometimes that love has claws.

Not because I’m trying to prove my strength.

Not because my husband needs me to be strong for him.

But because strength is part of who I am.

And I believe God can use that strength just as surely as He can teach me when to temper it with wisdom, grace, and humility.

The lioness doesn’t need to become less fierce to become a better wife.

She needs to make sure her fierceness remains rooted in love.

Not pride.

Not revenge.

Not the need to be right.

Love.

The kind of love that celebrates another person’s strength without feeling threatened by it.

The kind that can stand firm without losing tenderness.

The kind that knows when to speak, when to listen, when to pray, and when to trust God with what comes next.

I’m still learning.

Still growing.

Still occasionally reminding myself that the Lord has never once asked me to be the Holy Spirit’s personal assistant.

But I’m not trying to tame the lioness out of me.

I’m learning to steward her strength.

Because my husband doesn’t need a weaker wife to be a strong man.

And I don’t need a weaker husband to be a strong woman.

We were never meant to compete in strength. We were meant to be strengthened by one another.

The lion has his strength.

The lioness has hers.

Neither needs the other to become less for them to be everything they were created to be.

And when the world gets loud, when life gets hard, and when the battles come?

I know exactly where I belong.

Fiercely, Jessica