Some lovely, sweet, kind and forward-thinking young men have asked me to host a round-table to talk about how the Emerging Church in the UK can open up its structures to the full inclusion of women. I want to do it. I really do. But sometimes the instinct to self-preservation kicks in and I wonder whether I can bear to go through all that pain again. I have a nice job in a College where I’m loved and respected; I could just settle down here and do what I do. I don’t have to campaign any more.

I can hear the call to go and kick down a few more doors - perhaps for the sake of other women who will follow on, and for the sake of the men who need us to follow the call. But sometimes I think about the inevitable bruising ahead and lose heart. I may be a Rev’d Dr, but in a lot of people’s eyes I’ll never be any more than just a girl. A clever and faithful one, maybe. But still just a girl they can silence, ridicule and ignore if they like just because they can shout louder. There are no Epidurals for ministry; no promises that it won’t be a stillbirth.

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