But this is a post about what I consider the real Christian matriarchs, the ones who have lived through the collapse of a fundamentalist fantasy, have the scars to prove it, and still lead their families with grit, grace, and an unsentimental grasp on reality. They’ve held on to their faith, but unlike many still trapped between rigid fundamentalism and real-world logic, they can tell the difference between genuine spirituality and religious nonsense.
Let’s start here: a matriarch isn’t a title a woman gets for enduring menopause or hitting grandma status. They've earned it. And my wife—though she never campaigned for the role—has become the matriarch of our family and our extended family. Not by throwing around Bible verses or acting holier-than-thou or living in a spiritual fantasy world like so many others, but by being a Christian woman grounded in deep faith in God but also grounded in cold hard truth.
See, as I said at the start, real Christian matriarchs live in reality. Not in a fantasy where you raise your kids in church, ship them off to youth camp, make sure they have their “quiet time,” and then magically they grow up into mini-me fundamentalists. That formula doesn't work, as we and almost all of our friends with whom we went to church in Gainesville and Jacksonville have found out. It never really worked. And the women who’ve ascended to true matriarch status are the ones who had the strength to accept this reality—and didn’t lose their minds or their faith when it all went off-script.
My wife has watched kids in our family and extended family grow up and chart different spiritual paths. None turned out exactly like the FBC Jax formula predicted. But she never let that undo her. I’ve seen women paralyzed with guilt and grief and even fear, because their kids didn’t turn out as zealous as the FBC Jax youth pastor might have predicted. For some it wrecked their joy, strained their marriages, and turned them into walking testimonies of religious anxiety. But not my wife. She knows real faith is a relationship with Jesus—not a checklist of doctrinal loyalty and not in measuring her kids by a fundamentalist checklist. And she’s at peace with where her kids are in their own spiritual journey. That’s what real matriarchs do: they stay steady when the script changes.
Now, here’s something else about a real matriarch: she doesn’t confuse religious mania for spiritual maturity. She’s not dazzled by the seemingly most spiritual person who claims they “feel led” every time they make a terrible life decision. She doesn’t fall for the pious performances of those around her. In fact, she knows when someone is slapping a Bible verse on top of selfishness and calling it righteousness. She knows the difference between a mental health issue and what others like to dress up as “spiritual maturity.” And here’s the kicker—she’s not afraid to say it out loud. Even when friends and family whisper that she’s “less spiritual” for refusing to play along with the latest bout of holy-sounding nonsense, she’s unfazed. She sleeps just fine without the approval of the pious. In fact, she laughs now—at the fundamentalist craziness we used to swallow whole, and at the things the hyper-spiritual crowd still treat as untouchable and sacred.
And let’s be clear: a matriarch does not coddle nonsense in her family. She doesn’t get bullied by her adult kids, and she doesn’t pretend her screw-up son is “just struggling” when he’s actually burning his life and others' lives to the ground. A matriarch sees reality, calls it out, and sets boundaries for herself and her husband. She’s got the backbone to say, “I love you, but I won’t enable you.” She knows the difference between love and enabling, unlike so many Christians we've seen recently who think tolerating bad behavior is somehow Christlike and loving. I know "tough love" is cliche', but it is sorely needed these days, and a matriarch will deliver it when needed.
A true matriarch also knows how to work and is not afraid of work. My wife has worked in a Christian preschool for over 20 years—not full-time, but still serving faithfully every year. Year after year, she’s poured into kids and families, often serving as a Spanish translator for immigrant families desperate for someone to help them navigate a new system. She’s never made a big deal about it, but her quiet, consistent love changed lives. That’s work. That’s ministry. That’s what a matriarch does—she doesn’t sit back waiting for the family to worship her but she puts her hands to something meaningful and gets the job done.
And now, as she steps into what others might call retirement, she’s doing the exact opposite of retiring. She’s doubling down—pouring herself into her grandkids, providing friendship and support to her children, and caring for aging parents and others close to her who need her help. She's not unplugging from life and taking a sabbatical. She's leaning in. She's becoming even more essential to those she loves. That’s what a matriarch does. She multiplies her impact when others would be shrinking it.
So this Mother’s Day, save the frilly tributes. If you know a woman like my wife, tell her thank you. She didn’t become the matriarch by asking for it. She became one by showing up, speaking truth, and never letting religious nonsense rob her of her mind—or her family.
And Lord knows our families and this world need more women like that.
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