A Slave to Well-Established Precedent

People see my gifts and abilities,

And they say,"Consider yourself lucky."

They tell me I'm lucky,

Because I believe in a God that tells me I' free,

I'm born into a family of white priority,

And I live in a country founded on equality.

Count myself lucky?

I disagree.

Becase I'm bounded by my gender,

Working in churches that won't let me teach theology.

"Females don't belong on stage,"

So I've been told.

I'v become a slave to their pretentious interpretation

Of a text that should be about liberation.

The church favors well-established precedent,

next to which my arguement seems irrelevant.

Yet I refuse to sit in silent submission,

Just becase we value tradition.

God has given me a passion to preach.

So I pray, and I read,

And I serve those in need.

Waiting for the day when my words will be taken seriously.

I could cut my hair,

And use a different name,

But in the end what would I gain?

I'm standing up, speaking loud, and

Fighting for change.