When I think about Jesus, I think about women. All the ones He loved and honored. From the woman at the well, to the woman threatened by a stone-throwing mob for her sins, to His own mother who lived a lifetime with the promise of His greatness, His inevitable end.

So why then did Jesus only choose twelve men as His apostles?

Good question, because as we know, Christ never does anything by chance.

When we look at God's complete body of work, we must go to the beginning--our beginning in particular because the beginnings of everything God has or will ever make are beyond the finite boundaries of our minds.

There, in the garden, Eve ate the apple, and Adam, her Adam, watched on with feeble spine and listless hands.

Eve (and those of us she's spawned) have no issue with stepping up and taking over. Our issue? Stepping back and being led.

And granted, we need strong, smart, gentle, and loving men to lead, because without men like that, what's the point of anything?

We need men who look to Jesus as their ultimate guide.

So, this isn't about gender restrictions or a trumped-up game of "who can do it better?".

This is about fixing and finishing the work our Lord initiated–a work we, as fleshly beings, attempted to destroy.

And here in His goodness, He lets us work with Him to rebuild, renew, and rebirth something beautiful.

So, who are we to demand a "better" role in this process, the very process we sought to destroy in the first place?