So, do you want to hear about another woman that I didn’t know was in the Bible? Of course you do, sit down.

Let’s talk about Achsah. If you don’t know who the heck that is, never fear, I didn’t either. I mean, when has a women’s Bible study ever announced “we’re studying Achsah!”

Unlike Dinah (our forgotten girl of Genesis), who at least got a chapter, Achsah gets four verses. But she does a lot in those four verses. If you want to read the passage for yourself, check out Joshua 15:16-19. But I’ll sum it up here.

We actually start with Achsah’s dad, Caleb. Caleb, unlike Achsah, does get talked about in Bible studies. You might remember him from “two faithful spies” fame. Moses sent out twelve people to spy out the land God promised them. Ten said there was no way they could ever conquer it, forgetting, evidently, about God. Two said the land was good and that God would help them conquer it. Caleb was one of those two.

A quick note here: the concept of Israel entering these lands and eradicating whole people groups, even if they were following God's commands, is a tricky one, and one that I’m still wrestling with myself. Since this topic will appear a few times in this article, I would encourage you to seek out other scholars and what they say about it. I’m sure my own understanding will grow and change from what I know right now. So all that to say, if this topic makes you uncomfortable, it probably should. And I wanted to acknowledge that I do not yet have the knowledge or understanding to tackle it fully here and now.

As a reward, Caleb was one of the only people from the generation that left Egypt who also got to enter the land God promised them. God also promised Caleb a special portion of the land because he believed God would help them.

Which brings us to Joshua 15. Caleb, now an old man, gets his long-awaited inheritance. Caleb didn’t even request nice cities—he requested cities that he could clear and rebuild. He marches against the inhabitants of one of his cities, but he can’t do it alone.

So he promises that whoever attacks and captures the city can have his daughter Achsah as a wife.

Which . . . doesn’t sound great, honestly.

Caleb probably thought he did good. In fact, he probably did more for Achsah than other men of the time period would have done for their daughters. He at least got her a man who would go to war for her, literally. One who would take initiative for her.

But the fact also remains that she was objectified, used as a prize.

It gets worse, because Othniel, Caleb’s nephew, captures the city, and so, as promised, he gets Achsah. Which, yeah, that means she married her cousin. Which is also more than I have the understanding to unpack here.

Let’s get into the good stuff about Achsah instead.

Achsah arrives on the scene and immediately persuades Othniel to ask Caleb for a field.

Othniel didn’t tell her “hey, go ask Caleb for a field because he probably likes you more.” Achsah took the initiative and leadership not only to ask this of Othniel, but to convince him that it’s good.

Othniel agrees, and more than that, he lets Achsah herself speak to her father. When Caleb asks what he can do for her, Achsah requests a blessing. Her exact words? “Since you have given me land in the Negev, give me the springs also.”

I’ll admit, I’m not sure if the “land in the Negev” is the city Othniel won or some other land entirely. If it is the city that Othniel won, Achsah—and presumably others around her based on how they react—see that city as hers. And if it’s not the city that Othniel won, then somewhere else in the promised land, there is land that belongs to Achsah. There is only one other instance in these first six Old Testament books where women held an inheritance like this.

Not only did Achsah receive her inheritance, but she was brave enough to request more. And Caleb fulfills her wish, giving her the upper and lower springs.

The Old Testament is a hard read. God gave a law that seemed designed to protect women, and yet we watch certain men twist it (and continue to twist it) to protect themselves and abuse women.

And yet in this very harsh landscape, a woman was not only recognized as a landowner, but also asked for more and was not denied. Furthermore, no one condemned her for it.

When I said I didn’t know about Achsah, it wasn’t completely true. I didn’t know her name or the true details of her story, but I did hear this story taught once. Those teachers seemed a bit afraid of the story. They claimed that she received this ownership because she submitted. After all, she went to her husband and father first.

But that’s not what happened here. Achsah brought up the idea and convinced Othniel. Achsah went to Caleb and presented her request. She took charge. She asked for more. She knew her worth.

And she is not rebuked for it.

God included everything in Scripture for a reason. Which means God handpicked this brief story about Achsah for His book. He chose a story about a girl leader. And He did not rebuke her. In fact, He left it for us to interpret.

I realize this is an Old Testament story. Jesus made a new covenant since then, fulfilling and deepening the Old Testament principles beyond a list of rules. Becoming what God always meant the Law to be. But that doesn’t mean that the Old Testament is worthless or that we can no longer learn from the examples.

And what I learn in this story is that Christian women can lead. They can take charge and hold influence. I see that we are allowed to want more, that we are allowed to speak up, to call out injustice, to say “actually, that belongs to me.”

And I see the men who from all accounts treated her well. I see Othniel who fought knowing she would be his reward and wanting her. But beyond that, he listened to her, and accepted the point she made. He let her take ownership and negotiate for herself. I see Caleb who listened to her request, recognized her point, and gave her what she deserved.

And I see Achsah, who had the wisdom to consider her arguments and the courage to speak up. To ask for more.

She didn’t ask for whatever she wanted. She asked for something that was good and right. Which tells me that she paid attention to God and what He called her to do.

Are there places where we need to ask for more?

Maybe it’s for ourselves. Maybe it’s for others.

We might stand up for women who cannot fight for themselves. We might call out injustices and the people who perpetrate them. We might undo our own harmful beliefs, or make the choices we need to live in joy.

Whatever it looks like, the most important thing we can do is to learn to lean on God for wisdom. That’s how we know what to ask for and when to ask for it, just like Achsah did. That’s how we ask for things that are good and right.

I hope Achsah lived a good life on the land she earned. And whatever heaven and the afterlife may look like, I hope she and I get to chat sometime.

And so ends today’s episode of forgotten girls in the Bible. If you want to read about another girl who often gets overlooked and ignored, you can check out my recent article on Dinah here. 

Hi, I’m Rachel! I write fantasy for upper young adults and new adults. But more importantly, I write the novels I needed growing up—the novels I still need. Novels for the weird girls and the women they’re becoming.

Maybe you need those stories, too? You can get one for free by signing up for my email newsletter via the “HOME” page of my website. It might involve a girl and the magical violin she didn’t want and maybe a metaphor about grief. Plus, you’ll also get email-exclusive updates on my dieselpunk Anastasia reimaging. Sound good? I hope I’ll see you there! 

Can we talk about Dinah?
​
Okay, let’s talk about Dinah.

I never heard this story in Sunday school. In fact, I don’t think I ever heard this story at church at all. We hear about Jacob’s twelve sons on a regular basis, but never, if ever, do we discuss Jacob’s daughter.

Most Biblical genealogies would gloss her over with a quick “Jacob also had a daughter.” But Dinah is mentioned by name multiple times.

Other than that, Dinah gets one chapter to her name, and that chapter is Genesis 34. Before we even get into it, I’ll say that it is intense and it is mature. (Don’t let anyone tell you there is not explicit content in the Bible.)

With that in mind, this article will reference sexual abuse, rape, and graphic violence, although I will keep details as discreet as possible.

If you want the full story, you can read Genesis 34 for yourself, which is where I found myself the other day. I’ll sum up here.

Dinah leaves home one day to visit her friends—nothing weird for a girl to do. Before she can arrive, a local chieftain kidnaps her and rapes her. This piece of trash has a name—Shechem. And he becomes absolutely obsessed with Dinah. So he demands his father Hamor get her for his wife—presumably so the abuse could continue.

Dinah’s father Jacob hears about this, but he opts to stay silent until his sons have returned from caring for the livestock. The sons hear about it anyway—although not from their father—and return just in time for Shechem and Hamor to pay the family a visit.

Note that Dinah herself hasn’t come home. Shechem is holding her hostage.

Hamor tries to control the damage, claiming that Shechem has “set his heart on Dinah” and detailing all the benefits that could come from a marriage between their two people groups. Shechem takes it a step further, claiming he will give them whatever they want in exchange for Dinah.

The sons know exactly what they want. And here’s where it gets a little wild. They claim that they can’t give their sister to an uncircumcised man—which checks out since for some reason, that symbolized God’s promise to them.

So Hamor and Shechem fall for it. Which provides the perfect opportunity for Jacob’s sons Simeon and Levi to sneak into their city and kill every male. They rescue Dinah and plunder the homes left behind—but notably leave the women and children untouched.

When they arrive home, Jacob only worries that the remaining local nations will unite against them. But Simeon and Levi answer, “Should they treat our sister like this?”

Brutal, right? I mean, why would I opt to recount that story here?

Because every story in the Bible is included for a reason. Even the most graphic and tragic and brutal ones.

God included the story of an abused girl being avenged for a reason.

Like I said, I’ve never heard this story taught in church. But when people have discussed it or I’ve run across it in devotionals, it has been used as a caution against anger and the perils of revenge. Jacob is extolled as a good example for ignoring Dinah’s abuse.

To be fair, we could debate the morality (or lack thereof) of Simeon and Levi’s actions all day long.

But God allowed them to have this revenge, and He made sure it was recorded in His book.

That tells me that it matters to Him. All the abuse that Dinah suffered mattered to Him. And whether or not Simeon and Levi’s actions were right or wrong, God avenged Dinah through them and brought her home.

God sees injustice. He sees inequality. He sees abuse. He sees all the hurts that women face because of a broken world and people who have chosen to do evil.

Whether He does it here on earth now or whether He does it when He makes the world new, He will avenge every wrong.

Now more than ever, churches, organizations, and Christians are being exposed for how they have played Jacob. Hundreds of women can report how their church and fellow Christians mishandled their concerns. (This absolutely goes for men too. Although it more commonly occurs to women, that doesn’t make the threat nonexistent for men.) There are still people in your church, in my church who think this is a story about how you shouldn’t get angry.

But this story shows that God is angry.

When I read this story, I don’t hear God scolding me to listen to my elders more. I don’t see a morality tale about anger and revenge.

Vengeance isn’t ours, but sometimes anger is. God does not call us to slaughter entire cities, but we are called to slaughter lies and systems that enable injustice. But we do it with God’s guidance and only with God’s guidance—something that Simeon and Levi perhaps neglected.

When I read this story, I see a God Who knows and sees and hurts with us. And I see a God Who will make all these horrible things right.

Maybe you have been abused. If so, I hope you can feel the comfort of that truth through this story today.

Maybe you’ve never experienced this type of hurt.  If so, if you’re in a place where you can, I hope you can feel the challenge of this story. We may not be Simeon or Levi, but we can call for accountability. We can support victims and survivors. And we can slaughter the lies in our own hearts that lead us to ignore and keep silent.

It’s not everyone’s place to be on the front lines fighting these battles. But it is everyone’s place to imitate the God Who created all of us—to see and to hurt and to seek justice.

You may notice a lot of my articles lately have been like this one (dealing with women’s issues) or analyzing fictional heroines. My mission as a writer is to tell stories for the weird little girls and the women they’re becoming. And part of that journey has been realizing that I have a deep passion for topics just like these.

​So you can expect to see more of these takes from me over the months to come. Those topics might be where I stay forever, or they might be just where I stay for right now. But I’d love for you to hang out with me in them. If you have any ideas on topics I could cover in the future, please drop a comment below! 

Hi, I’m Rachel! I write young adult fantasy. I write the novels I needed growing up—the novels I still need. Novels for the weird little girls and the women they’re becoming.

Maybe you need those stories, too? You can get one for free by signing up for my email newsletter via the “HOME” page of my website. It might involve a girl and the magical violin she didn’t want and maybe a metaphor about grief. Plus, you’ll also get email-exclusive updates on my dieselpunk Anastasia reimaging. Sound good? I hope I’ll see you there!