I have struggled with the place of women in my church, "THE Church", for a long time.

I realized that, for the last 10 years or so, I have been silent about this because I gave up. I stopped caring.

Okay, no. That's not true. I didn't stop caring.  I stopped wanting to care.

I knew that the questions I used to ask at every opportunity (much to the chagrin of "the powers that be") were not taken seriously. They were being answered with long-suffering looks and slowed down sentences that only repeated their previous statement but with more condescension.

I was the trouble maker. I was the young woman who did not know her place and who was never content just to 'believe" that God made things this way.

I did not believe that God's purpose for women to stay home and have babies.  I did not believe that women should be seen and not heard.  I did not believe that women need permission from anyone (except God) before she made a statement or taught a lesson.

I still don't.

But, when I stopped fighting, it was because I knew I wasn't making any headway, but also because my life didn't follow the way THE Church said it should anyway.  So, in my own exhaustion and selfishness, I stopped fighting for the other women.

I had a man who believed in equality and feminism and equal partnership.  I had a career and no ability to have children, so I didn't have to stay at home.  I had a place to worship and, if I didn't like it, I didn't go or I didn't listen.

I stopped paying attention because I didn't let it effect me any more.  Ten years later, I thought it was getting better.

And then...

My church, THE Church, published an article about women in ministry.

I am now at a crossroads. I cannot, will not, accept that women are less thans in a church where everyone was created in God's imagine. I will not allow for 12 old men to decide what God will or will not allow me to do.

So, I now I am lost.

To stay or to go. That is the question.