I remember vividly the first time I interacted with Elizabeth Trotter. I had been writing for A Life Overseas for a couple of years when she and her husband Jonathan attracted the attention of the writing/editing team. From the beginning, I was impressed by her honesty, vulnerability, and beautiful writing — a winning combo. Through writing and working on A Life Overseas, we began to build first a working relationship that soon turned into friendship.
Elizabeth and I are from different generations and different backgrounds. She was raised as a military kid, I as a missionary kid. She has younger kids at home, and I am now a grandmother. She homeschools, and my family and I shiver at the thought of me ever homeschooling, yet our friendship is built on the many roles and interests we have that transcend those differences.
I deeply respect and admire her brain and her wisdom, both of which she uses well when she communicates through writing. In 2014 after a post she wrote, I sent off a quick email saying, “Wow — your post! It’s like you got into my head and wrote all that I’ve been struggling with for the past three years. I feel this so deeply.” I would send messages like this over and over until it became commonplace.
It is within this context that I eagerly purchased the new edition of her book The Hats We Wear: Reflections on Life as a Woman of Faith. Indeed, Elizabeth wears a lot of hats. Military kid, chemical engineer, wife, mom, missionary, writer, editor, homeschooler — and the list goes on. In this honest, clear, and pertinent book she begins with a focus on the broad categories of practical theologian, emotional human, and embodied woman before going on to address marriage, motherhood, and homeschooling.
As I read The Hats We Wear, I was struck that this is not only a series of essays and reflections on different roles. It is a readable and beautiful theological treatise on womanhood, and as you read it you will live larger. “Why does the giver of gifts seem to pick favorites?” Elizabeth writes in the first essay, grappling with the gnawing ache that God shows favoritism. Through honest soul-searching and counsel, she comes into a greater understanding of her role as one beloved by God.
As you read these reflections, you will walk with Elizabeth as she comes to peace with both Saints Peter and Paul, those two apostles whose words have shaped Christendom and often irritated women. You will witness her love of science and her awe of creation as she writes of black holes, eclipses, and astronomy, and you will find a friend as she honestly discusses her struggles with the body that God has gifted her.
Elizabeth’s pondering is not fluffy or light. Rather, they are reflections from a woman who wrestles with and tries to make sense of scripture from her 21st century lens. She looks up words in Greek to better understand the meaning of what she is reading; she pushes herself and the reader into a more solid understanding of Biblical truths; she pours out her heart whether that heart be filled with anger, grief, compassion, wonder, questions, or love. As a reader I knew I was encountering a heart of one who loves God and is continuing to learn what it means to live out her various roles with integrity and grace.
In final essay of “The Mom Hat” section titled “The Beloved of God” she writes this:
This is what I wish we all knew, truly knew, deep in the viscera of our bodies and the basement of our souls: The woman who stays at home? Loved. The woman who works from home? Loved. The woman who works nights so she can be with her kids during the day? Loved. The woman who works days because it’s the only way to make ends meet? Loved. The woman who stays home when her kids are little and then goes back to work? Loved. The woman who works because she genuinely enjoys her job? Loved. You are the beloved of God, and no one can take that away from you.
These bold words are the foundation of her hats, her life, her faith, and she invites us to consider the same.
I’m grateful for this book and for Elizabeth, who courageously and vulnerably invites us to examine our own hats and how we might wear them well.
