
In a world where marginalized voices are too often silenced—and where faith is weaponized instead of liberating—storytelling becomes a sacred act of resistance. Today’s Belief Behind the Book celebrates Amelia Fulbright’s The Water and the Blood, the Blood and the Water.
Belief Behind the Book is a feature that gives readers a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the beliefs—or what I call “the why”—behind books written by progressive spiritual leaders. Inspired by the Ministry from the Margins Books program, Belief Behind the Book shines a spotlight on why authors write the books they write, offering practical tips readers can apply to their own belief systems.
Rather than a midlife crisis, Fulbright’s memoir is a midlife reckoning with identity through the lenses of faith, gender and race. Guided by a relentless pursuit of the truth, the author traces the trajectory of her colorful, occasionally chaotic, and at times arresting journey from Southern Baptist missionary kid in Zambia to queer feminist preacher in the American South.
With honesty, courage, clarity and hope, she weaves together her own history of trauma with theological reflections about the nature of God, healing and liberation. It’s a story of breaking silences and breaking cycles.
Rev. Amelia Fulbright is an author, minister, activist, partner and parent. She is the pastor of the Congregational United Church of Christ in Greensboro, NC.
Amelia writes on a variety of theology and justice-related topics. Her advocacy work has been featured in The Cut, The Texas Standard, and Zerlina on Peacock.
When I asked Fulbright why she wrote this book, she responded, “I wrote it because I had to. It was clear to me from the beginning that the writing was part of my personal healing process, that I needed to interpret the first half of my life to live the second with both more intention and more joy. And I believe in the power of memoir as a genre. For about a decade, whenever I was reading ‘for fun,’ I was almost always reading a memoir. With each opportunity to peer into another person’s inner world and catch a glimpse of how they made sense of their own life, I was better able to understand my own. Memoir is one way we help each other survive and thrive.”
Continuing, Fulbright shares one practical takeaway for readers, claiming, “Don’t be afraid of the truth of your own life—both your beauty and your mess, your failures and your triumphs, even your trauma. Confess it to yourself, speak it, write it down.”
Fulbright’s story reminds us that truth-telling is a spiritual practice, one that asks for tenderness, tenacity, and radical honesty with ourselves. As readers and seekers, we are invited to follow her lead: to name our lived realities, to break harmful silences and to choose healing over hiding.
When we dare to tell the truth about who we are, we don’t just survive—we begin to live with intention, joy, and freedom. May her witness embolden ours, and may the pages of our lives become spaces where liberation takes root.


