The Strength of Our Gathering

Before us.  There were those who came before us.  They walked in the places we now call “our community.”

They created homes from the depths of their hearts and planted gardens in the depths of the earth that held the soles of their feet.

Their arms were strong.  Holding their children, holding their dreams.  And their voices were holy to the sounds of a child.

When Women gather, there is a breath, a sound like no other.  Listen!  It is like a roaring wind that cuddles and whispers, “no need to worry”.  Everything will be alright. 

Before us.  There were those who came before us.  They built bridges that connected laughter and joy, peace and hope.  And compassion followed wherever they went.

They sang songs and danced.  Singing soft, singing loud, whirling!  Their spirits are lifted by the Spirit that is Holy.

Their ears were tuned to hearing cries of hopelessness and despair.  They followed these sounds, and spread their arms wide, offering comfort, offering a way to wholeness. 

When Women gather, there is a passion of protection that holds creation in her hands. She covers the weary and prays strength for the weak. 

Before us.  There were those who came before us.  Creating paths for us to follow.  Sharing their stories of joy and pain, touching future lives, that those who gather today, will do the same.  

May it be so.

Rev. JacquiP

The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd

Sophia (Wisdom) offering The Dance of the Dissident Daughter

The Dance of the Dissident Daughter A Woman’s Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine is bold and pleasantly frightening.  Sue Monk Kidd questioning her spiritual journey and wondering if her Christian faith actually recognizes her womanhood and speaks to her directly, is a question I believe many women have asked, including myself, and what is so surprising is this memoir written over 25 years ago,  is still very relevant today.   Sue Kid Monk’s tenacity to deal with the question is one of bravery and begins the process to heal what she calls, “feminine wounds.” 

In all honesty, reading this book was difficult because it tugged in those neglected spaces women usually just settle for, and at the same time, there is liberation taking place.   Kidd gently forces women to truly focus on what roles they play in their faith journey and reminds us not to just accept the status quo as is, but that it is quite alright to search for a place that includes you and includes your worth.  This book is for women who are ready to heal wounds caused by a Christian faith tradition that has stifled the voices of the feminine  sacred divine.   This book is for women who are searching for a rebirth in becoming who their authentic, beautiful and holy selves truly are. 

There is a warning though that comes when you begin to open your mind to the The Dance of the Dissident Daughter.  Don’t be surprised as you read Kidd’s memoir, that you soon remember a moment when listening to a sermon you didn’t agree with and secretly screamed out loud but kept the facade of a smile on your face to show your loyalty, or when participating in a women’s conference that somehow managed to include Adam’s rib into their description of women, and yet you kept that silly grin on your face, that you as well have participated in patriarch oppressive systems.  You will come to the realization that you too might be ready to start a faith journey you can claim your own, but be further warned,  with that comes labor pains that may take longer than expected, but the stretch marks will soon tell the story of a journey worth taking.  

Be Well My Friends,

Rev. JacquiP

Choose Well

Trying to live under the expectations of others will kill you. Pretending to be something you are not with the hopes that the person you are trying to impress will accept you is quite insane. I know. It does not work. No one gets hurt but you. As well as others who would have benefit from your talents and gifts if you were not chasing that one thing you believed you needed to earn some type of validation. Believe me, I know.

I know what it feels like to give yourself away. I know what it feels like to bow down to the thing that lie and make you believe that normal looks well put together, hair done, nails done, body thin, clothes perfection, flawless. Conversations perfect, home immaculate, family perfect. The burden is too much to bare, too much to give away.

Finally! I choose me.