It seems like an epidemic nowadays–women being pushed to the point that they can no longer cope with their circumstances. When they cease to function normally, and create a whole world of upheaval for themselves and others.

This is not always a bad thing. I think of Leymah Gbowee and the women of Liberia risking their lives, standing out in the sun and the rain, taking on dictators and warlords because They. Were. Finished. Finished with war. Finished with killing. Finished with watching their children suffer. My favorite scene from “Pray the Devil Back to Hell” was when Leymah and the women, desperate over the escalating violence and the lack of progress in the peace talks, linked arms and trapped the warlords and the distinguished international moderators into the conference room where they were supposed to be making a peace agreement. When the warlords tried climbing out the windows, the women mobbed them, wouldn’t let them out. The quote from Leymah went something along the lines of “If you were real men, you wouldn’t be killing our people. Since you’re acting like little boys, we’re going to treat you like little boys.”

The women of Liberia had snapped. And it was a very good thing.

But usually, it is not a good thing when women snap. Some retreat into silence and depression, spend their days huddled under blankets and waiting out the storm. Some fall into a semi-psychosis that makes people think they’re a little off, when really, it’s an external problem that has pushed them over the edge. Some jump ship, abandon their families and everyday lives because they’d rather take their chances on the open seas than be trapped on a ship that seems to be going down. Some abandon life itself, or bear scars that that testify to pain so deep it needed to find physical expression.

The carnage is not pretty. Not for the women, not for their families, not for their communities, and not for society.

The problem is widespread, but we don’t really talk about it. Especially not in church. We all know women who are stumbling under burdens that are too heavy for them, but most of us have no idea what to do. We stand by helplessly as our sisters come apart at the seams, offering the occasional meal, Bible verse, or snippet of trite advice. Maybe we try to shame them or scare them into acting normally, because we’re scared, too. Scared for their families, scared for ourselves, but mostly, scared for them. We want to help, we want things to be right, but we feel impotent against the forces that are tearing us apart.

Sisters, this is unacceptable. It’s time we snap, time we stop functioning “normally” and get serious about protecting, defending, and nurturing one another. The cost will be high–we all know this, which is why we shrink back from it. But it HAS to be done, not just for the sake of our sisters, but for the sake of Christ and His kingdom.

I am no expert in this, but I think the women of the church could learn a lesson from the women of Liberia. We need to link arms, stand in solidarity, and demand shalom–to draw strength from God through one another as we work and wait for external circumstances to change. It’s time we quit playing church and acknowledge that we are living in a spiritual war zone, that we have an enemy who is trying to destroy us, and that he is picking us off one by one because we’re trying to go it alone. It is time we circle the wagons, create a place of mental, spiritual and emotional safety where we can strengthen one another’s faith and minister to one another’s wounds, and then go out aggressively to seek the lost and pull stragglers to safety. It’s time the women of God mobilize.

None of us can go it alone, and this is not something we can do individually. This can only come about through a steely, committed group effort. So who’s with me? How are we going to make this a reality?