I turn to you my Lord
I am worn out, sorrowful, bewildered.
Help me!

You created me
through Adam's rib
You made me the mother
of Your son
You forgave me when I was an adulteress,
You asked me for water
when I was a Samaritan
Help me!
Your daughter, is asking it with humility.

Men has not treated me as You did:
they raped me
they sold me

They trampled on me
they used me and shattered me,
My body, the temple of Your Love,
was and still is profaned.
How long shall I stand it?
You enabled me
to procreate: pure and innocent children,
who have become hard and ruthless men.
But what am I?
I am neither a daughter nor a mother now,
only a thing to be used.

They say I represent the other half of heaven,
but they make me live in hell.
What am I?

Help me to understand. To rebel,
to rose with love and mildness
against their power.
Lord, please,
make them become aware
and feel remorse for the evil they did
not only to me, but also to You,
to the harmony and beauty
of your creation
Amen

Giuliana Giammetti
Deacon of the Baptist Church
on via del Teatro Valle in Rome, Italy

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