An Honest Prayer for the Women We Were Told to Be

God,
I’m grateful for the places that felt like home -
the fellowship halls that smelled like sugar cookies,
the laughter that spilled out like light,
the women who taught me how to belong.
Those memories are woven into me,
and I honor them.

But I’m also grieving what I didn’t know to grieve.
The way my voice went quiet inside me.
The way questions sat heavy in my throat.
The way I learned to be small
long before I knew I was shrinking.

So here I am now - older, wiser, bruised in some places,
stronger in others - trying to hold both gratitude and truth
without pretending one cancels out the other.

God, help me reclaim the parts of me
that were tucked into corners for safekeeping.
The theologian.
The deep thinker.
The brave question-asker.
The woman who wasn’t made to orbit someone else’s calling
but to live fully into her own.

Teach me to trust the voice You placed in me -
the one I was taught to soften,
the one You never asked me to silence.
Give me courage to name what hurt
without bitterness,
and to bless what was good
without forgetting the cost.

As I untangle what was holy
from what was limiting,
meet me in the middle of the unraveling.
Remind me that You have always welcomed my questions,
my curiosity,
my hunger for more than tidy answers.

And when I feel that old tug
to be agreeable, quiet, safe -
steady me.
Lift my chin.
Teach me to stand up straight again
with a spine You knit strong and unbowed.

Thank You for being the God
who never asked me to disappear.
Thank You for being the One
who calls me into a faith wide enough
for voice and wonder and full humanity.

Amen.