I read your piece and really felt the weight of it. I love the honesty and depth packed into this.
I don’t believe in that version of God either—the one who silences questions or withholds love. That’s not who I’ve come to know.
I’m not a Christian (yet—it’s complicated), but I do believe in the God of the Bible.
Also, I get the frustration with how religion has often sidelined women—but I don’t think that’s on God. Women were never an afterthought in the Bible. The first person to witness the resurrection—the very event Christianity stands on—was a woman. That wasn’t random. It was divinely ordained.
But yeah… in the world we live in, the work of men is what usually gets highlighted.
"We rise because we remember ourselves" I love this bit. One of the strong push to my resurrection was missing myself my true self and first time in my life I am open to meet myself my true self. Thank you so much Mari. I loved every part of it ❤️
I read your piece and really felt the weight of it. I love the honesty and depth packed into this.
I don’t believe in that version of God either—the one who silences questions or withholds love. That’s not who I’ve come to know.
I’m not a Christian (yet—it’s complicated), but I do believe in the God of the Bible.
Also, I get the frustration with how religion has often sidelined women—but I don’t think that’s on God. Women were never an afterthought in the Bible. The first person to witness the resurrection—the very event Christianity stands on—was a woman. That wasn’t random. It was divinely ordained.
But yeah… in the world we live in, the work of men is what usually gets highlighted.
"We rise because we remember ourselves" I love this bit. One of the strong push to my resurrection was missing myself my true self and first time in my life I am open to meet myself my true self. Thank you so much Mari. I loved every part of it ❤️
What a fantastic piece about reclaiming Resurrection!
Thank you for this journey!
🙏✨♥️🔥
I can't answer to your questions, but I think your story is compelling!
I’ve risen from the ashes of shame and silence. Naming it holy reminds me that healing is sacred—even when it’s quiet, even when it’s slow.