“Let those who have been set free by the Lord tell their story.” Psalm 107:2
I read the verse through a lump in my throat. A lump that’s been there for days now. Every time I think about the comments, the animosity, the division, and destruction between my brothers and sisters that lump lodges itself there.
That lump that makes it hard to speak, that threatens to make me quiet.
We’re doing family devotions together before bed. Usually, our oldest (the only one who can read) reads the verses to his brother and sister. I like to hear those words on his lips, want him to feel their power and weight. Tonight though, it’s different. Tonight, I need to do it. I need to be the one to say the words and feel their power and weight.
I look up from the page and make sure they give me their eyes. My sons and my daughter hold my gaze and I force fire into it. “Does this verse say ‘let only the smart people tell their story?” “No,” they tell me with confusion. “Does this verse say, ‘let only the pretty people tell their story?” “No,” they answer again. “How about this? Does it say, “let only the adults tell their story?’” They shake their heads. Their innocent, passionate, wise little heads. “Does this verse say, “let only the boys tell their story?” They giggle then and answer “No, Mama” “Who is supposed to tell their story, then?” I ask. I smile at them, defying the anger in my bones. “It says everyone, Mama,” this from Judah. His name means “The Lord will be praised.” And, here in this moment, he’s living into that. “That’s right!” I tell them. “Everyone. Every. Single. Person who the Lord has set free is to tell their story. Some people might tell you that because you’re young, or because you’re a girl, or for any other reason you can’t tell your story but you remember,” I pause and swallow. Push down that lump and keep going. “You remember that Jesus has set you free and people need to hear about it.” A few thoughts on women in the church continued on the blog (link in bio)
