When Anger Became a Theological Question

"I’m dealing with a ton of anger. The more I learn about patriarchy and feminism, the angrier I become—and I hate being that stereotype of an ‘angry feminist.’ I’m trying to figure out how to acknowledge that anger, feel it, and work through it, so I can move toward a more peaceful internal space.”

I wrote those words in an email in May of 2020.

We were deep in COVID lockdown, and I was carrying grief, exhaustion, and the hotly-burning anger that came from trying to fight for domestic equity in a world that still assumes women will absorb the impact.

That was the first time I let myself name that tension to someone else. At the time, I thought the problem was my anger. What I didn’t yet understand was that my anger was asking a theological question.

Reclaiming What Was Lost

Five years before that email, I landed in San Diego in a community of women who held motherhood as sacred in a way I’d never experienced before.

Many of these women were midwives, doulas, and lactation consultants. They trusted their bodies and honored their intuition. Most of them identified as feminists—but not the kind I’d been warned about in church. They weren’t rejecting faith or “women’s roles.” They were expanding what faith could hold and living their motherhood together in deep interdependence.

One of them introduced me to the Divine Feminine. She never used male pronouns for God. She prayed simply, “Mother God.” At first, it unsettled me and felt almost heretical. But eventually, I started searching Scripture for myself.

What I found surprised me.

• The Spirit of God hovering and breathing life into creation (Genesis 1:2)
• God depicted as a woman in labor, bringing forth life with pain and power (Deuteronomy 32:18)
• Divine Wisdom personified as a woman, crying out in public places (Proverbs 8:1–2)
• Jesus longing to gather people like a mother hen gathers her chicks (Luke 13:34)

For centuries, Christianity has clung to the image of God as Father as if it were not one metaphor among many, but the only one that mattered.

Why This Matters Now

In recent years, we’ve watched the erosion of women’s, LGBTQ+, and non-white people’s rights in real time. Attacks on bodily autonomy. Rollbacks of legal protections. A resurgence of Christian nationalist rhetoric that frames domination as divine order.

Too often, Christianity is used to justify that control, but the words of Jesus were never meant to shrink us. Lent has often been framed as a season of restriction—of self-denial, sacrifice, and silence. And for many women, that framing has only reinforced what we were already taught: that holiness requires disappearance.

But what if Lent were a season of reclaiming wholeness?

A Different Way Through Lent

An intersectional feminist approach to Lent matters because:

• We’ve been taught that self-sacrifice is holiness—but that sacrifice often serves someone else’s comfort or power.
• We’ve inherited an image of God shaped by patriarchy, one that prioritizes obedience over wisdom and control over care.
• We’ve been conditioned to distrust our intuition, our bodies, and our anger—when those are often the very places God is speaking.

But Scripture tells a fuller story. A story where:

• Wisdom is feminine and public.
• Bodies are sacred sites of revelation.
• Obedience is not holy if it costs integrity or life.
• Resurrection is first proclaimed by a woman whose testimony institutions usually ignored.

Why I Created the Wisdom Calls Cohort

This is why I created the Wisdom Calls Cohort—a seven-week Lenten journey for women who are ready to examine not only what they believe, but how the images of God they carry are shaping the way they live, speak, care, and lead.

Together, we’ll walk through Lent with curiosity and courage. We’ll uncover the Divine Feminine woven throughout Scripture, confront harmful theological narratives, and practice trusting wisdom as a spiritual discipline.

This work is personal, theological, and culture-shifting. In this moment, theology shapes what we tolerate—and what we resist.

Let's fast from patriarchy. Feast on Wisdom.