But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Maya Angelou
The story of women
is one of being discounted
disbelieved
disregarded
spoken over
mansplained
That’s how women learn
to practice subversion
conserving our energy
and our passion
for co creating a better future
for co creating
love
and justice
and beauty
changing the world
one subversive act at a time.
I sometimes wonder whether
if women hadn’t been excluded
from board rooms
and corridors of power
they would have opted out anyway
intent on making a better world
instead of endlessly talking about it
How often the “idle tales”
turn out
to be the best news of all
told in the breathless excitement
of women who have glimpsed
a brave new world.
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