This poem is my meditation on hevel—the Hebrew word often translated as “vanity” or “meaningless” in Ecclesiastes, but more literally meaning vapor, smoke, or breath. I wrote it from a place of wrestling with how temporary, elusive, and uncontrollable life feels. We pour ourselves into love, work, worship, and even suffering—yet in the end, it all passes like a mist.

Hevel captures that haunting tension: life is beautiful, but it slips through our fingers. In response, we often distract ourselves with busyness or numbness, trying to avoid the discomfort of our mortality. But for me, hevel isn’t the end of the story. In the middle of the fog, I’ve found something—Someone—solid. YHWH, “He That Is,” remains when all else fades. While life may be chasing smoke, I’ve chosen to chase the One who never disappears.

I’ve had this conversation more times than I can count. Some say church leadership is meant for men. Others believe women should be able to serve in any role. And for a lot of people, this isn’t just a theological debate—it’s personal.

It’s about real people, real callings, and real questions of faithfulness.

Instead of picking sides and arguing, maybe the better question is: How do we move forward in a way that honors both scripture and the women God is calling?

In a culture that often disregards objective truth and organized religion, Dan Kimball's book How (Not) to Read the Bible aids both followers of Jesus and non-believers in understanding the most controversial, intriguing, and puzzling book of all time: the Bible. Chapter by chapter, Kimball addresses common objections raised by skeptics, clarifies misunderstandings held by Christians and non-Christians, and offers a framework for everyday people to engage with the Bible. In doing so, he addresses questions such as: Is the Bible anti-women? Anti-science? Does it have a "my God can beat up your God" complex? Why does it appear to support, or at the very least, remain indifferent towards slavery? And much, much more.