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Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

#50Women

A FREE 50 Women Study Guide for You

February 2, 2015 By Michelle

After I released 50 Women Every Christian Should Know, I received several inquiries via email and social media from readers wondering if there was a study guide to go along with the book. Unfortunately there was not. However, after teaching a five-week women’s study class based on the book at my church last fall, I found myself equipped with enough material (and then some!) to create a five-session Study Guide to accompany the book. The talented staff at Baker Books designed a beautiful layout and copyedited the text for me, and voila, my first official Study Guide was born.

And the best news yet? It’s free and available for download right here!

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This five-session study guide is perfect for small groups, women’s ministry/adult education classes or even for the individual who wants to dig a little deeper in this book.

Included in this Study Guide: 

Five Complete Study Sessions  – Each week is focused on a particular theme and highlights several women in the book.

  • Session One: When “No” Opens the Way to a Bigger “Yes”
  • Session Two: Obedience Isn’t Always Convenient or Comfortable
  • Session Three: God Calls Us to Serve Right Where We Are
  • Session Four: God Uses Imperfect People
  • Session Five: Share Your Story

Conversation Starter Questions  – A selection of questions related to the session’s theme and aimed at encouraging conversation and input from each participant.

Discussion Questions and Bible Study – A selection of questions related to the women highlighted in that particular session, prompting discussion of what we can learn today, as well as a discussion of select Bible verses that support the session’s theme.

Closing Prayer – A prayer based on the week’s theme that can be read aloud at the close of each session.

I hope and pray that you will find the Study Guide useful, inspiring and informative as you explore these 50 heroines of the faith who have walked before us!

Click HERE to download the 50 Women Every Christian Should Know
E-Study Guide.

 

 Click here to purchase 50 Women Every Christian Should Know on Amazon.

If you are a church staff member and would like to purchase 50 Women Every Christian Should Know in bulk quantities at a 20 percent discount, click here.

Filed Under: #50Women, 50 Women Every Christian Should Know Tagged With: #50Women, 50 Women Every Christian Should Know Study Guide

Keep Praying and Believing {My Faith Heroine series}

December 18, 2014 By Michelle

We call her the Internet Pastor because she loves us, lifts us up, mentors us, prays for us and encourages us, all online in various communities – from her own blog, Just Wondering, to A Deeper Church and lots of places in between. I had the privilege and pleasure of meeting Diana Trautwein a couple of times over the years, and she is even better in person. So full of life and love, her blue eyes sparkle and her face lights up every time she sees you.

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Story and Photo by Diana Trautwein

Life was hard and uncertain when she was growing up. One of four siblings, barely a year apart, with parents who both worked, a father who drank hard and gambled hard, always losing. Then there were “the aunts,” she told me. The three older cousins who never married and who loved all those kids to bits, providing protection on occasion, but most of all, bringing fun and merriment into their days.

Though their mother had grown up in the church, after she married their dad, neither of them ever darkened a church door again. But they agreed that their kids could go.

So every Sunday, they dropped all four kids at the curb and left them to fend for themselves in downtown Los Angeles at that old brownstone building. For my heroine and her sister, it stuck. For their two brothers, it took a lot longer. The sisters loved to go to that place, where they met friends their own age and were sheltered and loved by lots of adults, as well.

One of those older women saw potential in the bigger of the girls, and when she was in junior high school, almost into high school, she arranged for a scholarship to a nearby training seminar. A Christian leadership seminar. And my heroine bloomed, learning to love the Bible, church music and a wide circle of friends, many of whom remained close to one another throughout their lives.

Eventually, she married one of the church musicians, a talented pianist with a bent for mathematics, and they began to build a home and a family. A girl was born, then two years later, a boy and about ten years after that, another boy.

All during those early years, the family continued to attend the downtown church where the parents had met, and they contributed faithfully, both musically and financially. Eventually, they moved too far out into the suburbs and switched to a larger church closer to home. Within a few years, that old church was razed and a used car lot took its place.

Their new church provided wonderful activities and teaching for her children and some powerful teaching during the adult Sunday morning hour for her and her husband. Professors from a nearby seminary came and built small congregations within the larger one. Once again, this woman bloomed and grew, stretching toward the light, exercising her good mind, asking probing questions, reading widely.

The "Double Delight" rose, her faith heroine's favorite

The “Double Delight” rose, her faith heroine’s favorite

She always worried that she didn’t have a degree from college, but then, she never really needed it. Her own reading regimen (everything C.S. Lewis ever wrote, plus a lot of Paul Tillich, George Ladd, Eldon Trueblood, Peter and Catherine Marshall), her willingness to ask hard questions and her fearlessness about seeking answers provided a priceless education, as well as forming her more and more into the likeness of Jesus.

She taught eleventh grade Sunday school (girls only, in those days) for about a dozen years, providing wisdom, grace and breakfast out for every one of them sometime during the year. Each week, she worked hard on those lessons, getting up before the rest of the family to rough out ideas and read scripture. And to pray. She prayed for each student in her classes, regularly, faithfully.

By God’s grace and her own commitment to growing, both spiritually and psychologically, she overcame the difficulties of her upbringing, remaining close to her entire extended family until they each died. She is the only one left now, and that is hard — for her and for those who love her.

She dealt with a lot of insecurities and fears her whole life, but always, there was a joyful sense of humor, a warm and welcoming hospitality, and an immense reservoir of creativity. She decorated her home, her children and herself on a tight budget, and encouraged each of her children to get a good education and build a good marriage. And she loved her husband fiercely, even when he was old and frail and sometimes demanding.

This woman modeled for me what it means to follow hard after Jesus, to commit yourself to learning, asking questions, reading widely, and serving others. She wasn’t perfect — and she knew it! — but she was good. Even in her old age, she hangs onto her faith with all of her diminishing energies.

I visited her over the weekend, in the dementia unit where she now lives. She was sick, with a very sore throat and a nasty cough, all of which makes the dementia worse and exhausts her. I helped her change her clothes and sit in her recliner chair for an afternoon nap and then went across the room to bring her large, whiteboard calendar up-to-date after several months of neglect.

As I worked in the semi-darkness of her small entry way, I could hear her muttering in her chair. I thought perhaps she had drifted off to sleep and was dreaming. But then I began to pick out a few words, and my heart soared and broke, all at the same moment.

“Oh, Lord,” she said. “Please help Diana to be well, to be strong. She is such a beautiful daughter and I love her so much.”

Before I left I kissed her on the forehead and she smiled up at me and said, “The Lord’s been good. We’ll just keep praying and believing.”

“Yes, Mom,” I said. “That is exactly what we’ll do.”

 

DianaTrautweinMarried to her college sweetheart for nearly 50 years, Diana answers to Mom from their three adult kids and spouses and to Nana from their 8 grandkids, ranging in age from 4 to 23. For 17 years, after a mid-life call to ministry, she answered to Pastor Diana in two churches where she served as Associate Pastor. Since retiring at the end of 2010, she spends her time working as a spiritual director and writes on her blog, Just Wondering. For as long as she can remember, Jesus has been central to her story and the church an extension of her family.

This post is part of the My Faith Heroine Series in conjunction with the release of 50 Women Every Christian Should Know: Learning from Heroines of the Faith. Click here to read other posts in the #MyFaithHeroine series. 

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Filed Under: #50Women, #MyFaithHeroine, guest posts Tagged With: #50Women, #MyFaithHeroine, Diana Trautwein

Weekend One Word: Walk

November 15, 2014 By Michelle

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Agnes Gonxha Bojaxhiu (whom we know as Mother Teresa) set sail for India in 1928 at the age of eighteen. She never saw her mother again.

Filed Under: #50Women, One Word Tagged With: #50Women, One Word

Her Story is My Story {#MyFaithHeroine}

November 5, 2014 By Michelle

Today I am delighted to welcome the second winner of the #MyFaithHeroine contest, Abby Alleman. I first met Abby three years ago at the Allume conference and was immediately taken with her grace-full spirit, her sweet demeanor and her heart for loving everyone around her. Oh, and did I mention Abby’s smile? It lights up a room! Abby is now serving as a missionary in Hungary with her husband and their three kids, and she’s writing a memoir (like she doesn’t have enough to do!). Today Abby writes about her faith heroine, her beloved Swedish grandmother Mor Mor. Join me in welcoming Abby to the blog.

MyFaithHeroineShe taught me how to scrub clean with old toothbrushes the grimy places of farmhouse windowsills and doors whose crisscross panes carried dirt, manure and the sweat of five kids running back and forth between indoor play, feeding calves, milking cows and hayloft frolicking.

She also taught me how to pray without pretense or pause.

Her lessons span as wide as work thoroughly done or not at all and a God whose eye is on the sparrow and bids us ‘come’.  One of her favorite phrases from her own mother was ‘you have to be a little crazy to stay sane.’ Her life sprinkled across mine is a lot like yeast that works through dough and gives rise to the kingdom of God.

She birthed eleven children whose raising began in the height of the Great Depression. Need was a gift that brought forth great inventions. So she sewed and taught her daughters the same. Her sons learned how to cook and each child knew that a morsel of bread should never be eaten without profound gratitude.

Her eleven children would rise to call her blessed and her husband too. So would forty-four grandchildren through six decades. And many of the hundred and more great grandchildren would learn at her knee or at those of who she gave herself for their bending.

…Please hop over to Abby’s place to finish the rest of her story – you will be glad you did, I promise! {I read this story aloud to members of the 50 Women class I recently taught at my church, and there were more than a few Kleenex used by the end}.

Abby Alleman2Abigail (Abby) is a math geek who loves the ordered rhyme. She is a mix of the odd and even living in Budapest, Hungary with her husband and three young children. She has spent twenty years in various forms of ministry as a youth leader, high school teacher, Spanish translator and, for the last nine years, with her husband as a missionary with CRU. Her story is finding her in the people and language of her new home. So she is sewing together her life through memoir beginning on a farm in Pennsylvania and threading through continents and languages into a city of millions. She has big dreams but rests all of her hopes on the Love that reaches down and draws her Home. She blogs regularly at Abigail Alleman and can be found on Facebook and Twitter.

This post is part of the My Faith Heroine Series in conjunction with the release of
50 Women Every Christian Should Know: Learning from Heroines of the Faith.

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Filed Under: #50Women, #MyFaithHeroine Tagged With: #50Women, #MyFaithHeroine, Abby Alleman

What a Friend {#MyFaithHeroine}

November 3, 2014 By Michelle

 It’s fitting indeed that yesterday we celebrated All Saint’s day, and today we launch the My Faith Heroine series, celebrating the faith heroines who have blessed us, touched our lives and guided us along our spiritual journeys.

A few weeks ago I put out a call for entries for the My Faith Heroine Contest – stories about the women who have influenced you along your spiritual journey. Twenty-five entries later my Baker Books publicist Brianna and I chose three finalists – and believe you me, it was a challenge to narrow it down to just three! Many of the stories I read moved me to tears, and every last one of them was a beautiful testament to a faithful, cherished woman.

Today I welcome Lynn Morrissey, who writes about an unlikely friendship with a woman who graced her in endless ways and left an enduring legacy she’ll never forget. Join me in congratulating Lynn for writing one of the three winning #MyFaithHeroine entries!

MyFaithHeroineMyrtle was dead. The shriveled brown body encasing her generous spirit let go at God’s command. Like autumn’s last leaf, thin and brittle as parchment, it drifted effortlessly to its final resting place.

I met Myrtle years ago. She was my heroine. What an unlikely pair we were, our backgrounds and temperaments as variegated as fall’s foliage. Myrtle was a venerable octogenarian of African-American descent—gracious, humble, and gentle. Yet her soft-spokenness was peppered with crisp humor and laughter that tinkled like a flurry of wind chimes. Her diminutive ninety-pound frame housed a prayer warrior who regularly conferred with her Captain and best friend, Jesus, whom she claimed could fix anything. And He did!

I was a thirty-something Caucasian with an impetuous nature. I loved God and His Word, but was frustrated by my faith that seemed to fluctuate like a round of Simon Says—two baby steps forward, three giant steps back. Solidly standing with feet firmly fixed on her Rock, Jesus Christ, Myrtle’s faith simplywas.

I stuck close to Myrtle, hoping to absorb her faith secrets, and she was only too willing to share them. Every Sunday, we met in our church’s tiny chapel. Myrtle always left the doors open so people could join us for prayer, but few ever did. Myrtle, whose arthritis might have dictated otherwise, insisted we kneel at the altar rail. Inch by inch, she pleated like a weathered accordion, and with one heavy sigh—shooo—finally dropped to her knees. I preferred my comfortable pew seat, but knelt out of respect for Myrtle. She knelt out of respect for God.

Myrtle (1)

Myrtle prayed like she talked, simply and sincerely. I, who had struggled with prayer for nearly ten years as a Christian, was amazed at the effortlessness of her petitions, as if she were chatting over the breakfast table with an intimate friend. One knew that when Myrtle prayed, Jesus knelt alongside us, His presence palpable.

Myrtle didn’t just pray to Jesus, she sang to Him, too. Her favorite hymn was What a Friend We Have in Jesus, and that was no surprise. She sang to her friend Jesus while she baked, washed, dusted, or tended the generational dozens of children entrusted to her care over the years. She told me that singing gave her spiritual strength. Myrtle sang most heartily in church, where she shone like polished piano ebony among mostly white keys.

Sometimes it disturbed me that Myrtle demonstrated what I considered to be a subservient attitude towards her Caucasian counterparts, calling each lady by Miss or Mrs. and her surname. Myrtle is just as good as they, I thought, and knows her Bible better and can pray rings around them!

In retrospect, although I believe Myrtle hailed from a generation plagued with societally imposed racial distinctions, I learned that her personality was characterized by subservience to Christ. His humble servant, she showed deference to others. Her humility humbled me, and I longed to be more like her.

What a friend I had in Myrtle. I called her day or night, asking endless questions or relaying uncontrolled fears. She patiently listened, never criticizing, never minimizing my wrestling. She’d offer a Bible passage to enlighten, a prayer to uplift. “Jesus will fix it, Lynn,” she assured and I was soothed, though not always persuaded. My faith needed to grow.

Sometimes trials loomed larger than life, seemingly insurmountable. One morning at work, I made a desperate call to Myrtle, explaining that some board directors thought I was negligent in raising critical funds for the agency for which I was executive director. Some wanted me fired. “Jesus will fix it,” she insisted. “Let’s pray.” We did, and He did! I had never been one to toot my own horn, but at the next board meeting, I had an opportunity to explain that I had personally been responsible for generating a large percentage of support in both cash and in-kind donations. A naive young woman, I had done my job without reporting it. In response to Myrtle’s prayer, the Lord gave me courage to speak, and He gave me favor with the board.

Another call to Myrtle was even more desperate. I was forty and pregnant. This was a circumstance that couldn’t be fixed or altered by any amount of praying. And yet, in the ensuing months, as I confessed my anguish to my faithful, non-judgmental friend Myrtle, Jesus answered our prayers by fixingmy attitude. When our daughter was born, how proud I was to be her mother. And how proud Myrtle was to be included at Sheridan’s christening as her great-godmother.

Certainly arrogant pride was not one of Myrtle’s characteristics. “Why would you, a college graduate, ask advice from me?” she sometimes queried. I thought the answer was obvious. Myrtle possessed the God-given wisdom that I needed.

Yet near the end of her life, Myrtle’s wisdom was harder to discover. Her quick mind and quicker wit were overshadowed by the ravages of Alzheimer’s disease, scrambling her language into a kind of verbal Morse-Code gibberish. She could no longer talk to others or to Jesus.

One afternoon, in what was to be our last visit, I pulled her dusty hymnal from the piano bench, asking her daughter-in-law for permission to play for Myrtle. As I played the old familiar hymn, with tears streaming down her cheeks, Myrtle began to sing, “What a friend we have in Jesus …” Although she could no longer talk to Jesus, she was singing to Him just as she had throughout the years. While Myrtle couldn’t tell Him, she knew He was still her best friend.

Several days later, Jesus fixed Myrtle good as new. And now she’ll never stop singing.

Lynn Photo new bio 1-3-03 mediumLynn D. Morrissey possesses the rare ability to probe beneath the surface, striking the heart of a subject, while sharing transparently from her own heart. She is passionate about journaling, through which God healed her of suicidal depression, alcoholism, and guilt from an abortion. She empathizes greatly with those who endure pain. A poetic word-stylist, Lynn sculpts beautiful language with her pen, and is the author of Love Letters to God: Deeper Intimacy through Written Prayer, and other books, contributor to numerous bestsellers, a Certified Journal Facilitator (CJF) for her ministry, Heartsight Journaling, AWSA speaker, and professional soloist. She lives with her husband Michael and college-age daughter Sheridan in St. Louis, Missouri. Connect with Lynn on Facebook or email her at: [email protected]

This post is part of the My Faith Heroine Series in conjunction with the release of
50 Women Every Christian Should Know: Learning from Heroines of the Faith.

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Filed Under: #MyFaithHeroine Tagged With: #50Women, #MyFaithHeroine, 50 Women Every Christian Should Know, Lynn Morrissey

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For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a Triple Type A, “make it happen” (my dad’s favorite mantra) striver and achiever (I’m a 3 on the Enneagram, which tells you everything you need to know), but these days my striving looks more like sitting in silence on a park bench, my dog at my feet, as I slowly learn to let go of the false selves that have formed my identity for decades and lean toward uncovering who God created me to be.

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