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What if Jesus was born a girl-child?

What if the child 
announced by the angel,
promised to a virgin mother,
to be named by a dutiful father,
surprised everyone on her birthday?

Would Joseph still have named her Jesus?
or some other name
more befitting a girl-child.
What is "God-with-us," in the feminine?

Surely she would have 
nursed and cried and toddled, just as a boy-child would.
walked, fallen and walked again, just as a boy-child would.
run and played, though maybe not so loudly, as a boy-child would.
grown in stature and in strength, perhaps even more quickly than a boy-child would.

Would she have gained entrance to the Synagogue for teaching and for learning?
Would she have been mentored and apprenticed in a trade?
Would she have been allowed to forgo marriage to follow her true love calling?

If so, then...
Would she have been baptized by John at the Jordan?
And when she rose out of the water, would the dove descend on her and the voice of heaven say, 
"This is my daughter, whom I love; with her I am well pleased."

Would she then travel the countryside teaching and preaching?
Would those who heard then listen to her, accept her, learn from her?
-- not such a threat to authorities, this young woman,
perhaps they consider her words carefully,
acknowledge her wisdom and take up her cause.

Following after her, they--
observing how she treated others,
seeing the love in her eyes
and the smile she gave to each one
the hope each one departed, carrying.

They might follow her in the way true followers do.
Unafraid and unyielding, 
listening for the voice she listened to
honoring the God she gave honor to
growing the courage to speak to the Father she spoke to,
As she did, they came to do.

Would they scorn her, dismiss her, or run her out of town?
Certainly not. 
Daughter of God, we welcome such as these,
wish we all could be such as she.

Would they would imprison her, stone her, or crucify her?
Not a chance.
Who would suspect that God would arrive 
in such a meek, lowly female form?

Who indeed?

What if Jesus had been born a girl-child?
Anything is possible with God.
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Takmina Kohistani, 100 meters of Courage

“On the day she qualified for the Olympic Games, she began to cry underneath her red, black and green scarf, cry for every little girl who was told not to run by her parents in Afghanistan and other Muslim countries. She cried because those girls would never know the joy of moving with the wind in the middle of a dead sprint.” ~ Mike Wise, Washington Post , Sat, Aug 4th 2012

Men in her country said bad things about her. Told her she was a disgrace to her faith. Confronted her where she trained. Still she ran. Because the only man whose opinion mattered to her was her father who told her, “Run. Run like the wind.”

Takmina will return home after the Olympics. Home to people who “will do bad things to her.” She could stay in Great Britain. Seek asylum abroad. But she won’t. She will return to her country, to those who call her names and threaten her, and face what lies ahead. She does not say they are wrong. Simply, she says. “Someday they may see that I am right.”

“Someone has to face this problem and I am the one to face it.”

Now THAT is courage.

What gives someone that kind of courage? What is so compelling about moving with the wind in a dead sprint that casts out fear? How can it be worth whatever comes?

Social change comes incrementally, Wise’s article noted. In many ways it is like the training of an athlete, who bit by bit and day by day, ekes out the progress which makes them stronger and faster.   We, looking from the distance of many miles and many years of women’s equality, would like this change to happen in a moment. In the London Olympic moment. In the 100 meters moment. It won’t.

But today my eyes are pried open to the plight of women who have so little and fight for so much that I take totally in my stride. I pray for their safety upon returning. I give thanks for their courage. And I introduce them to hope that the world keeps watching, day by day in the 4 years ahead. May the little ones hear the call of the wind and run, for their country, not from it, and find joy.

 

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