We rise.

Slowly. Softly. Fiercely.

Slowly, we shed.

We shed the shaming voices and the screaming voices and the angry voices. We shed our bad theologies. We shed our pictures of how it is supposed to be. We shed our inclination to prove ourselves and our tendency to exclude. We shed the masks we wear to fit in, the masks we wear to hide our real selves, the masks we wear to make someone else happy and the masks we wear to feel safe. We shed our raging fears and our nagging insecurities. Slowly.

Softly, we hold.

We hold space for the broken pieces of our hearts and lives. We hold each other's stories and we hold each other's babies. We hold open hearts and minds. We hold all living things in our tender care. We hold onto grace like it is our life line. Softly.

Fiercely, we keep on.

We keep on disrupting the status quo. We keep on loving the world into wholeness. We keep on demanding grace for all or grace for none. We keep on opening the doors. We keep on showing up. We keep on hoping. We keep on imagining. We keep on creating. We keep on peacemaking. We keep on breathing. We keep on keeping on. Fiercely.

We rise. Slowly. Softly. Fiercely.