When will justice come to us, my unborn babe… the Earth cries out, the very olive trees are weeping from the violence, the injustice, the apathy. The fig trees are too brokenhearted to bear fruit, from the oppression, the division, the hatred. The vines droop and wither from the greed, the want and hunger, the grief and despair.
My child, my child, my firstborn beloved… I hate to say this, but part of me cannot but hope you will be a boy. Oh, if you are a daughter, I will love you just as much, of course, and teach you everything I know, but my little one, I tried so hard to help our people – to tell them the good news, the Word of Emmanuel, how Divine Love is within us, is born in us, is calling us to birth a new reign of justice and peace, in which the mighty are cast down from their thrones, and the lowly are lifted up… the hungry are filled, and the rich are sent empty away. Continue reading “Mary’s Pondering Heart by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir”
Feminism and Religion 