I’m in my favorite place in the world. That is the wind that blows between Solomon’s ears as I live my highest adventure, fully present in the moment.

I watch his head bob up and down to the beat of his hooves as we canter through the polo field alongside his favorite friend Theodore, an equally short stout mini viking horse who has only lived in this country less than a year. Theodore reminds Solomon of his homeland. They speak the same language. Solomon has learned a lot of English over the last few years but still enjoys the familiar Icelandic horse language and the tiny bubble of personal space both horses very comfortably share.

We drop to a tolt side by side as Dimitra and I enjoy the Sunday afternoon warmth. As we begin to walk our way home, we pick up a conversation discussing a book we are both reading. It's called Captivating by Stasi Eldredge. It gets deep quickly as we talk about what it means to be a woman—what is at the heart of a woman and how every woman wants to be pursued, to be a necessary part of a grand adventure, and to unveil beauty as she does it. We share how hard it is to be vulnerable and trust God through difficulties rather than wanting to take over, which only causes our husbands to be passive and checked out.

As we talk, I remember all the years I have struggled with this concept. I grew up with a Greek dad who said that boys are better than girls and a mother who said that women are smarter than men. I fell in love with a gentle, kind, free-spirited soul who never learned discipline or how to plan ahead or take the lead. He was taught to respect women and to never be dominant and that some male traits were toxic. He was never allowed to play GI Joes or have a toy gun. Competitive sports were also a NO.

I grew up a tomboy who played dirt bikes and king of the hill with my somewhat fierce and brutal brother, who liked to fart in his hand and throw it in my face. I wore his hand-me-down Toughskins from Kmart, and when my mother made me wear a dress for picture day, I threw a fit. I grew up with the name “Smelly Elli” and never felt super feminine. I’ve been told I have “masculine energy.”

Breaking the Mold

I have always been a go-getter, and John has always been supportive. I run hard, and he cheers me on. He has been one of the most thoughtful and giving people in my life and truly enjoys helping. He has struggled with leading the way, charting his own destiny, or confronting someone if they wrong me. He doesn’t like to take sides, rock the boat, or take a personal risk.

On the other hand, I have had to work on not being so confrontational, I’ve been accused of always rocking the boat or stirring the pot, and I am always getting my hand slapped away from the cookie jar. Personal risk has never scared me. Children give me a side eye, and they love John and won't leave him alone.

I thought we were a match made in heaven until I started going to church when Dimitra was first born. In the 10 years I went to church, I learned that I was not a good example of a woman with coiffed hair, meekness, and a gentle smile. Serving, hospitality, and children’s ministry didn't come naturally to me, and I would have preferred to preach, if they would have let me. John loved bringing coffee and donuts to church, would rather be in kid’s church, and served playing the drums. He couldn't talk sports with the guys, didn't have the bro swag they had, and didn't believe in putting his woman in her place.

We did not fit in. I was dubbed a trouble maker, and John was looked down on for not making me behave myself.

When I saw things that weren't right, like abuses, double standards, or corrupt leadership, I spoke up and exposed it. We were kicked out of a few churches because of me, but today I wear that as a badge of honor. I may not ever fit into church and the Proverbs 31 woman role, but the last thing I want to do is thwart John from fulfilling his destiny as a man.

Heaven's Messenger

As we rode along, Dimitra and I discussed how my tendency to take charge allows John to be passive and stay in a comfort zone. Maybe I take charge too much because I don't trust enough. Maybe this is my shortcoming.

I made a decision a few years ago that I was not responsible for John’s destiny. Only he is. Likewise, he is not responsible for mine. It is possible that we won't both walk in our destiny at the same rate or the same way. It's not a competition, and it all comes down to personal choice and our free will. I can't live disappointed believing John is falling short somehow. Maybe he is, and maybe he isn't. I am only responsible for my choices.

Dimitra and I talked about the destiny of the family collectively, and how we each complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses. How we each have our own destiny, but there is a collective destiny as well. We rode our horses and dreamed about the Art Movement. We talked about the 1,000 acres of land we want to develop into an artist community and how John holds a key to it all. Just in that exact moment, the very moment Dimitra said, “Jake said he felt like God told him that John holds the key to our family’s destiny”…we both saw it.

We could hardly believe what we were seeing. It was so perfectly timed and utterly surreal. It made both our hearts jump and yet feel so loved, seen, and cared for. A glorious, majestic bald eagle flew right in front of us, as if to grab hold of our attention, and then landed on a pole about 15 feet above us. We were awestruck! Only a few feet from us and our horses, she sat perched on her pole and, looking right at us, began to speak to us intently. I had never heard an eagle speak like this. I have only heard the familiar peal of an echoed screech in the movies, but not this chatty almost hen-like sound.

“She’s talking to us!” Dimitra said.

“I know! I can't believe it! That’s a bald eagle. Not an osprey, but a real bald eagle!” I said in amazement.

“Yea, it even has the yellow beak. I can’t believe we are seeing this,” she says.

“Do you have your phone?” I ask. “I don't have mine on me.”

“No! I don't have mine either. Oh well, we’ll have to just take all of this in and remember it.”

We sat there on our horses’ backs and watched the bald eagle. She never took her eyes off of us but didn't act like she felt threatened or didn't want to be there. It felt like she really wanted to communicate.

Destinies Unfold

After at least five solid minutes, Dimitra and I decided that life must go on and we needed to continue the ride. We passed right under the eagle, and her gaze followed us. As I looked back, she was still watching us. The whole experience was incredible and profound. I knew it was a marker in time. I knew a tide was turning. Something was shifting.

This incredible visitation reminded me that we are not alone, and our destiny and future doesn't rely on me being the proper woman with all the right traits and temperament. And it doesn't depend on John being a man that made it all happen. Something far bigger than us is still at work orchestrating it all. What is happening—the art movement, the artists community, what is going on in the earth—isn't about me. I’m not at the center of it and never have been.

I am just a woman who is fiercely pursued and desired, who plays a necessary role in a grand adventure while unveiling beauty. And if you are a woman, so are YOU.

The success of this divine drama doesn’t depend on me. I can't mess it up, even if I am a woman who has a big mouth, can be too pushy, and likes to take charge. I am me, which in all of its flaws and mistakes is beautiful. I feel like this is what the eagle was saying.

She was saying, “Don't shrink back or play it small for fear of outshining someone else. You can be all of you, and John can still be all of him. You can be captivating, and he can be wild at heart. This plan that is forged in heaven is unstoppable.”

Have you ever felt like you didn’t fit the mold that was expected of you? How did you respond?

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