“God gave it to me,” I retorted, passion still flaming over the issue we’d been discussing for the past few hours.
He laughed, and I did too, but we both knew I was serious.
A few weeks later, I spoke in church about my trip to Bolivia, and I called on the church to take action. My friend came up to me after, thanking me for speaking out.
“I have this fire in my belly, Joy. I want to yell at the church to wake up. I want to fight injustice. But I can’t, because I’m a woman. Why would God do this to me?” Her frustration was palpable.
She thinks God made a mistake. And to be honest, I’ve often thought the same when all I saw around me were lines I wasn’t to cross and barriers to keep me out. What is a woman supposed to do with that fire? Why would God give us such unquenchable passion to right wrongs and stand for justice, and then hem us in?
I tell her she’s right about one thing…