Who Gets to Define a Woman? The Answer the Next Generation Needs

“What is a W?” 

That’s the question the Women’s National Basketball Association (WNBA) has been struggling to answer in recent weeks. Despite having “women’s” in its name, the league has been unable to define the word’s meaning. The association has found itself caught in the same confusion that has settled over much of our culture: What, exactly, is a woman?

By the time this article is published, perhaps the WNBA will have provided their own answer of sorts. But beneath that question lies another—one that reaches far beyond the world of women’s basketball and isn’t going away anytime soon: Who gets to define what a woman is? 

That’s where the deeper tension lies. The Christian answer runs against the grain of our age, which tells us that we can define ourselves—but we are not the ones who get to decide. Womanhood isn’t ours to invent or revise but something we receive from the One who made us. 

And while our culture is busy offering its answers (or avoiding the question), a generation of girls is listening. They’re learning what it means to be a woman in classrooms and locker rooms, in the books and the shows they stream, carrying competing voices everywhere they go. In a thousand subtle ways, they’re absorbing stories about where identity comes from, and they’re being fed lies that who they are is theirs to decide. 

As Christian women, we have a different story to pass down, one that places the pen of identity in the hands of the Creator. But if we want the young women coming behind us to trust the goodness of His design, we first need to ask: Are we showing them, with our own lives, that His hands are a good place to be?

The Courage to Be Clear 

The world is afraid to answer the question “Who defines womanhood?” But let’s be honest: sometimes we are too. It’s not that we don’t have the answers, but sometimes we hesitate to name God as the ultimate source because we know how the truth will sound to modern ears. 

We may feel comfortable sharing what biology reveals about the female body or pointing to the beautiful order woven into creation—and those are important truths. But we may find it harder to follow those truths all the way back to their Source and say simply and clearly to others: God made us. God defines us. And what He made is good. 

Perhaps we hesitate because we know clarity in this area can come with relational costs. When speaking to a long-time friend who views issues differently, we may soften our language because we don’t want her to think we’re judging her. At work, we may remain quiet when policies or conversations about gender arise because we’re unsure how much we can say without facing professional consequences. In small group settings, we may be tempted to speak vaguely because we fear clear answers will sound political rather than biblical. Online, we may word our convictions carefully, aware our messages could be screenshotted, pulled from context, and passed along. 

We often choose to measure our words because we can imagine what might happen if we’re clear: She won’t talk to me anymore. I’ll be considered intolerant. I won’t know how to answer the follow-up question. I’ll make things awkward. I’ll be misunderstood. I’ll hurt someone I love. 

Those aren’t imaginary fears, and following Jesus doesn’t mean we should be careless or cavalier about the way we approach those who don’t share our beliefs. Scripture calls us to fill our words with grace, humility, and wisdom (1 Pet. 3:15–16). 

But we should be willing to ask what our hesitation reveals about our own hearts. Is God’s authority something we affirm in theory—or something we have learned to trust and apply? Do we believe not only that God has the right to define womanhood but that He is good in doing so—and that His wisdom is worth offering to others?

In the Hands of the Potter 

Our willingness to stand on God’s authority depends, at least in part, on what we believe about the God who holds it. If God were merely powerful but not good, His authority might be something we would reluctantly submit to. But Scripture gives us a more beautiful picture. The God who has every right to define us is the God who formed us with intention and care.

We see this on the first pages of Scripture, of course. But another helpful image appears throughout the Bible: God as the potter and His people as the clay. Isaiah 64:8 declares, “LORD, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we all are the work of your hands.”

In her booklet What Is a Woman? Mary Kassian says “the Bible wants us to see ourselves as vessels fashioned by the Master Craftsman, each one shaped with intention for a specific purpose.” She writes, 

How did God create this living masterpiece? He formed it by hand. The Hebrew word is yatsar—the same word used for a potter shaping clay. It suggests artistic, inventive activity that requires skill and planning—work done with great care and precision.

God didn’t just speak humanity into existence the way He spoke light into being or commanded the waters to gather. With the rest of creation, He spoke. But with humanity? He got His hands dirty. He formed. He shaped. He crafted.¹

Mary goes on to say that this reality should fill us with wonder: 

The God who spoke galaxies into existence bent down to form you with His own hands. The God who measures oceans in the hollow of His hand took infinite care with the architecture of your female form. You matter to Him—not in some vague, sentimental way but in a specific, detailed, personal way.²

There are moments when this reality is easy to marvel at and worship comes naturally. Then there are moments when we look down at our bodies, and they feel far more burdensome than beautiful. Or we encounter parts of womanhood—the pain that comes with our periods, the changes of pregnancy and postpartum, the way the female body stores fat, fluctuates hormonally, and ages—and we find ourselves wishing, even just a little, that God had designed things differently. 

When we’re tempted to question the wisdom of the Potter, another biblical picture of the clay becomes especially relevant. In Jeremiah 18, the Lord sends the prophet Jeremiah down to a pottery studio to watch the potter at work (vv. 1–2). As Mary Kassian reflects on this scene, she writes,

I wonder what went through Jeremiah’s mind as he stood there watching the craftsman’s hands shape the spinning clay. Perhaps he remembered the words of Isaiah, who had written decades earlier, “You have turned things around, as if the potter were the same as the clay. How can what is made say about its maker, ‘He didn’t make me’? How can what is formed say about the one who formed it, ‘He doesn’t understand what he’s doing’?” (Isa. 29:16).

The very idea was absurd—utterly laughable . . . It was obvious, watching the craftsman at work, that the clay had no say in its form or purpose.

After he had taken in the scene, God gave the prophet a message—personal and piercing: “Just like clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand” (Jer. 18:6).³

Centuries later, Paul asked, “Will what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’” (Rom. 9:20). 

The answer, of course, is no. The clay doesn’t instruct the potter. The creation doesn’t dictate to the Creator. The Potter has the right to shape the clay and decide what kind of vessel it will be.

The pattern is clear: God is the Creator, not a consultant. Humans are formed, not self-defined. And questioning God’s design—insisting we know better than our Maker—isn’t just foolish. It’s illogical. Arrogant, even.⁴

Reading those words, we may first think of our larger culture that openly rejects the Potter’s right to shape the clay, but this image asks something of us too. The clay doesn’t have to raise a fist at the Potter to resist His hands. 

Perhaps our trust in the Potter is most visible in what we pass on. The generation coming behind us is learning what it means to be women not just from what we teach them but from the way we inhabit our own womanhood. If they learned who has the right to define a woman simply by watching us—by observing our words and attitudes—whose authority would they believe we trust? 

Maybe they would hear us say that God made them female but learn from our example that they still get to decide what that means. 

Maybe they would hear that their bodies are beautifully designed while watching us speak about our own body as a problem to shrink, hide, or resent. 

Maybe they would learn that God’s authority is something we affirm but not necessarily something we delight in. 

More is at stake than we realize. We’re not only teaching the next generation what a woman is; we are showing them what it looks like to receive—or resist—the One who defines them.

Womanhood Worth Passing On 

The younger women around our tables and in our churches need more than older women who are able to defend a definition of true womanhood. They need women whose lives courageously and humbly answer the question “Who gets to define what a woman is?” with gratitude and joy.

They need to see women flourishing beneath the good authority of God, women who can say with growing confidence, “God knew what He was doing.” They need the examples of women who receive their femaleness as something given with intention rather than mere invention. They need those who can acknowledge that which, in a broken world, is difficult without despising what God has designed. They need models who ultimately trust the Potter enough to leave the shaping in His hands. 

The next generation needs women who will tell them—not only with their words but with their lives: 

God didn’t just sprinkle femininity on you like seasoning. He wove it into the fabric of your existence. . . . Every cell in your body declares a truth your heart needs to hear: you are female by design, not by accident.⁵

Who gets to define a woman? That question won’t be settled by a league or legislature, by cultural consensus or individual preference. The answer belongs to the One who thought of womanhood in the first place. God defines womanhood. 

One of the greatest gifts we can give the next generation is to show them that living beneath His authority is not something to fear or to merely endure. The hands of the Potter are a good place to be. 

¹ Mary Kassian, What Is a Woman? The Question Our World Is Afraid to Answer (Niles, MI: Revive Our Hearts, 2026), 16.

² Kassian, What Is a Woman?, 19.

³ Kassian, What Is a Woman?, 34.

⁴ Kassian, What Is a Woman?, 34.

⁵ Kassian, What Is a Woman?, 37–38.