When I was young child my mother would make my brown paper lunches for me to take to school. Often there would be a note tucked away in the saran wrap expressing my mom’s love to me. At the bottom of the note she would write, “J.O.Y.” She wanted me to understand that joy was when one expressed an orientation to God first, others second, and myself third.
As a feminist I don’t believe I have to put myself last. In fact I challenge that idea. But I do believe that joy happens when the beautiful synergy of my needs, the community’s needs, and the worship of God is experienced. When those needs are in mutual conversation joy can happen in beautiful and mutually honoring ways.
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