I will not keep silent.

I want to. Speaking up, fighting, exposing my strong feelings – these are difficult for me. I wrote the below lament months ago, for myself. It was deeply personal, an exercise I needed for my own emotional journey. I wasn’t planning on posting it publicly.

But then another social media storm erupted, stirred into existence by unbelievably awful words from a room of Christian men about spiritual teacher and leader Beth Moore. For days I’ve watched on social media as dozens of women, some I know and some I’ve never met, cry out in pain. It is a pain we women of faith know all too well – when a handful of words that happen to appear in the vast, beautiful Word of God are removed from their original intent, meaning, audience, and context; twisted into cruel ammunition; and loaded into patriarchal weapons that pulverize our female souls.

And you know what? This soul, for one, is worn out. Every time one of these storms erupts in the zeitgeist of Christian communities, my spirit sags with the exhaustion of this fight. I am so weary of having to defend, to prove, to put on the full armor of exegetical debate and argue about my own inherent worth. 

I am proud of and blessed by the women out there who are willing to stand up and continue fighting this fight. To shout on behalf of all of us, “We are not going home!” But I am rung out. And I’m sad. I don’t want to argue anymore; I want them to hear how agonizing it is that this is even an argument anymore.

So I turn to other words from God’s Word. These words give voice to the lament inside me – cry out for a reprieve, for justice in this interminable, unfair fight. When I read these words in Job this summer, they spoke directly to the heartbroken, furious, exhausted part of my soul. I knew I needed to knit them together to speak for my grief.

Here is my lament… For myself and for all of the Christ-following women whose souls are weary from words weaponized to wound us.

I will not keep silent.

I will speak out in the anguish of my spirit. I will give vent to my complaint and speak in the bitterness of my soul.

The arrows of the Almighty are in me; my spirit drinks in their poison. Do you see what God has dished out for me? It’s enough to turn anyone’s stomach! Everything in me is repulsed by it—it makes me sick. He batters me and multiplies my wounds without cause. He doesn’t let me catch my breath but fills me with bitter experiences.

How does this fit into what you once called ‘good’? Is it good for you to oppress, to reject a life you shaped by your very own hands?

I try to make the best of it, try to brave it out. I could say, “I will forget my complaint, change my expression, and smile”… and yet I would still live in fear. My desperate words are treated as wind.

Why I should be patient? Why should I struggle in vain? What strength do I have to hope in? Do I have any power to help myself? 

But my brothers are as undependable as streams that go dry. You have proved to be of no help; you see something dreadful and are afraid. Show me where I am wrong and I will be quiet. Do you think your words are convincing when you disregard my cry of desperation?

Now be so kind as to look at me. Would I lie to your face? You know good and well I’m not in the wrong. You also know there is no help for me.

Even if I am in the right, I can’t backtalk what “God” says. I can only beg my Judge for mercy. 

God, tell me why you persecute me! Your hands shaped me and formed me. Will you now turn and destroy me? Relent! Don’t be unjust. 

Yes, concede; my righteousness still stands.

[words from Job chapters 6-10, combination of translations]