At this point, “biblical womanhood” might be one of the most overused, underdefined phrases in modern Christianity. For some, it conjures up soft-focus images of baking bread and submitting quietly. For others, it’s a red flag—one more coded phrase in a long line of church-sanctioned limitations. But what if the whole conversation is missing the point?
Author and speaker Lisa Bevere thinks it is. And in her latest book The Fight for Female, she’s not interested in arguing about who’s allowed to lead worship or whether women should be CEOs or stay-at-home moms. She’s asking something deeper: What if there’s a strategic spiritual assault on what it means to be a woman—and we’ve unknowingly made peace with it?
“Women have befriended an enemy,” she says. “And they don’t even know it.”
In a culture obsessed with extremes—tradwife vs. girlboss, purity ring vs. body autonomy—Bevere is charting a third path, one that’s rooted not in patriarchy or performative feminism but in purpose. She’s not trying to win a culture war. She’s trying to expose what she sees as the real one.
Spiritual Warfare in a Feminist Age
Bevere’s book begins with a dream she had in 2016—a rainbow-colored dragon dressed in children’s clothing. At the time, she didn’t know what it meant. Now, she sees it as a warning: that women, in a well-meaning effort to gain freedom, might be defending ideologies that slowly dismantle their dignity.
“It’s not just culture oppressing women,” she says. “It’s not just men. There’s a spiritual battle going on here.”
She points to the throughline from the serpent and Eve in Genesis to the dragon and the woman in Revelation. For Bevere, these aren’t just poetic images—they’re blueprints for how identity, especially feminine identity, is targeted and distorted across time.
“If a generation can be convinced their formation was a mistake,” she says, “they’ll never trust God with their transformation.”
This, she believes, is the core crisis facing women today. Not ambition. Not family structure. Not even feminism. But confusion. “We’ve tried to be powerful by acting like men,” she says. “We’ve tried to win by playing their game. But when we abandon the fullness of the female image, we lose something irreplaceable.”
So What Is Biblical Womanhood, Really?
That’s the question Bevere keeps circling back to—not to reduce womanhood into a list of traits but to re-expand it.
“We make it too narrow,” she says. “The Proverbs 31 woman gets a bad rap because she seems like an overachiever, but she’s actually wildly empowering. She buys fields. She speaks with wisdom. She’s not waiting in the corner for permission.”
For Bevere, biblical womanhood means obedience—to God, not to roles. That might look like raising kids. It might look like leading in the workplace. It might look like being single. The point isn’t what you’re doing. It’s who you’re becoming.
“Everything is seasonal,” she says. “The right thing in the wrong season is still the wrong thing.”
This hits hard for women who feel like they’re “off-script”—the ones who aren’t married, don’t have kids or haven’t figured out what their version of ‘womanhood’ is supposed to look like. Bevere isn’t offering a blueprint. She’s offering freedom.
And a warning.
“We’re being told it’s empowering to erase what it means to be female,” she says. “But our divine imagery is being reduced to a costume. We should be angry—not at people searching for wholeness in brokenness but at the forces convincing them they were never whole to begin with.”
From Theory to Action
Bevere isn’t interested in echo chambers. She’s not here to rant about “the world today.” She wants women to do something.
“We don’t need more experts in what’s wrong,” she says. “We need builders. Doers.”
Her challenge is clear: Get involved. Show up in your community. Volunteer at schools. Run for local office. Mentor younger women. “Relational equity is our superpower,” she says. “We know how to create connection. That’s not soft. That’s strategic.”
She references the women of Exodus as an overlooked model of resistance. The midwives who refused to kill newborns. The mother who hid her child. Miriam, watching from a distance. Pharaoh’s daughter, who defied her father’s orders. “Every hero in that part of the story is a woman,” Bevere says. “They weren’t waiting for permission. They just did it.”
Her message? Stop waiting for a prophet. Be the one who sees the need and steps in. “We’re in a season where we learn by doing,” she says. “We don’t need theory. We need courage.”
The Cost of Silence
If Bevere’s tone sounds urgent, it’s because it is. She believes the stakes are high—not just for women but for families, churches and entire communities.
“We’ve allowed the meaning of womanhood to be diluted,” she says. “We’ve shared it, traded it, surrendered it. And now we’re wondering why things feel unsteady.”
The fallout isn’t theoretical. It shows up in confused identity, fractured relationships, lost trust in God. “If you believe your body is a mistake, it’s hard to believe your life has meaning,” she says. “But God doesn’t make mistakes. He makes images. And He entrusted women with something sacred.”
What exactly that “something” is might vary from person to person. But Bevere is sure of one thing: “To be a woman is to be entrusted with hearts. Not just romantic ones—community, family, friendship, even the heart of God.”
And if women step into that with conviction? Everything could change.
“We’re not just here to survive the chaos,” she says. “We’re here to lead the exodus out of it.”
