I don’t know about you but injustice moves me.

When I see or hear about injustice, I can feel it bubbling up within me.

I want to shout and say this is not how it should be!

I want to shout and say how could this happen?

I am physically and emotionally moved by injustice.

I wonder sometimes who is there?

I wonder who can I speak to about injustice?

I wonder if my voice would be heard?

I wonder if anyone would notice?

I wonder is anyone would pay attention?

I wonder If anyone is listening?

I wonder.

Then I hear his still quite voice that says- speak up, speak up.

I hear speak up for those that cannot speak for themselves for those who don’t have a voice.

The whisper becomes a shout!

The whisper becomes my mandate.

I hear this clearly and I am compelled by this, I am convicted by this.

I hear this and I know that this is what I have to do.

I hear this and know that this is my purpose.

Even if my voice feels unsteady, even if I shake, even if I feel completely out of my depths, I will speak up.

I don’t ever want my heart to be hard that I would not be moved by injustice.

Injustice moves her.

Yes, it does.