It turns out, though, that I didn't need to write my own prayer book after all. I just needed to ditch the masculine language--along with the inclusive language I wanted to replace it with--and use strictly feminine language.
So instead of praying to the Lord, I pray to the Lady.
Instead of the God of Abraham, I pray to the Goddess of Sarah.
Instead of the God of David, I pray to the Goddess of Bathsheba.
Instead of praying to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I pray to the Mother, Daughter, and Holy Spirit--or Holy of Holies, as rendered by Bobby McFerrin.
It's taken me years to bring feminine language beyond the 23rd Psalm. Imaging God as Goddess is wrong. That is what I've always been taught. Imagining God as female is sinful. That's what I've also always been taught. Even in the most forward-thinking, historically conscious, enlightened company, even attempts at inclusive language were problematic. Never once, even in graduate school, did I note any attempts to use feminine pronouns or word endings for God, because God is God, and Goddess is someone or something else--an idol. Or idoless, I suppose. The very notion of the Divine One being feminine in any way--even in metaphor, as one might find dotted through scripture--was beyond rejected. It was inconceivable.
Well, I don't think that word means what you think it means.
Inconceivable, in this case, means it simply wasn't attempted without fear. But I now pray the prayers of Give Us This Day--a marvelous daily prayer book, by the way--in feminine language in every divine instance. "Jesus" as an Anglicized name stays the same, but yes, she still gets feminine pronouns (oops! I did it again!), and she's the Divine Daughter rather than Son. Not because I have a thing against the Divine Masculine, but gees, isn't 2,000+ years a little long for masculinity to have the exclusive attention of 99% of what has become a major world religion? (I have no doubt that there have been women, and even the occasional man, who have prayed to the Divine Feminine, but their stories remain largely hidden for fear's sake.)
I was praying this morning and the line from scripture that gripped me was from Esther: "Deliver me from my fear."
Loving Goddess, deliver me from my fear of what may be said to me or done to me by honoring and naming your amazing feminine depths. I dip my toes in your well, and they are refreshed, cleansed, stimulated. I am grateful for you, and grateful for the freedom to pray to you as I wish, without fear that a government, political or religious, will be entitled to render me physical harm for doing so. My cup overflows, even if some of that spill is fear. Take my fear from me, and replace it with your prophetic voice and merciful love. Amen.