When God Comes to Women

This one hit me hard.

Have you ever noticed how, in scripture, it’s almost always the men who go up into the mountains to meet with God?

Moses climbed Mount Sinai.
Elijah found God not in the wind or the fire, but in a still, small voice on the mountainside.
Jesus Himself often withdrew to the hills to pray.

But women? You rarely hear about them making that same climb.
And deep down, we know why.

Because the women were too busy keeping life going.

They couldn’t just leave the house for days on end.
They couldn’t abandon babies, stoves, gardens, bedsides, or baskets of bread rising on the counter.
They were carrying a thousand small responsibilities — the kind no one writes about but everyone depends on.

I was talking with a friend about this recently, sharing how as a modern woman, I sometimes feel like I never get that quiet, sacred space to just be with God. Life is loud. There’s always something to tend, someone to care for, something that needs my hands. I told her, “I wish I had more time to go up the mountain.”

Her response stopped me in my tracks.

She said,
“That’s why God comes to women.”

She continued,
“Men have to climb the mountain to meet God, but God comes to women wherever they are.”

And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

I began searching the scriptures, reading with fresh eyes. And it’s true.

God does come to women — right in the midst of their everyday, ordinary work.

He met Hagar in the desert, when she was fleeing abuse.
He spoke to Mary at the annunciation, interrupting her quiet life with divine purpose.
He met the woman at the well, in the heat of the day, as she drew water for her household.
He met Martha in her kitchen.
He met the bleeding woman in the crowd, desperate and reaching out.
He met Mary at the tomb — and she became the first witness to His resurrection. Not because she was preaching or leading, but because she was doing what needed to be done: honoring His body in burial.

Over and over again, God came to women not on mountaintops,
but in kitchens, wells, gardens, bedsides, and even tombs.
In mourning and midwifery, in baking and burial, in service and silence — He came.

So if — like me — you ever start to feel spiritually “less than” because you don’t have the space or solitude to climb some metaphorical mountain… remember this:

God comes to women.
He knows where we are.
He knows the burdens we carry.
He sees our sacrifice, our labor, our tears behind closed doors.

And if we open our eyes and hearts, we will see Him, too —
In the laundry room.
In the hospital waiting room.
In the carpool line.
In the midnight feedings.
In the care of aging parents.
In the quiet breath between one task and the next.

He is there.
He lives.
And in times like these, perhaps more than ever, He is calling to women around the world.

Not because we’re on the mountain.
But because He knows exactly where to find us.