[Verse 1]
I could never speak it
But I didn't quit when they called me heretic
They said I was too dangerous
So, I stood with all the women at a distance
But once my name crossed His lips
How could I keep quiet
He is not ashamed to be
Seen with me beside Him
[Chorus]
I have seen the Lord
I will speak of Him
And nobody could talk me out of it
I have seen the Lord
And my Lord's seen me
Oh, He said my name
And told me 'go and speak'
Of what You've seen
[Verse 2]
How could I not speak it
That You didn't quit when they called You heretic
They said it was too scandalous
For You to come so close to me
But You still did it
And once my name crossed His lips
How could I keep silent
He is not ashamed to be
Seen with me beside Him
[Chorus]
I have seen the Lord
I will speak of Him
And nobody could talk me out of it
I have seen the Lord
And my Lord's seen me
Oh, He said my name
And told me 'go and speak'
Of what You've seen
[Verse 3]
I will run and tell the story of
The One denied stayed buried but it is alive
Sprit's setting tongues on fire
All of heaven's singing glory, glory, glory
Trees are clapping, clapping, clapping
Rocks are shouting, shouting, shouting
And then there's me, a woman
And I will speak
Of what I've seen
I will speak
Of what I've seen
I will speak
Of what I've seen
Go and speak
Of what You've seen
Go and speak
Of what You've seen
Go and speak
A Woman
Song Meaning
Ellie Holcomb gives voice to an unnamed woman in "A Woman," someone shaped by exclusion before she's shaped by anything else — "they said I was too dangerous, so I stood with all the women at a distance." The turn comes entirely from being noticed rather than earning notice: "once my name crossed His lips, how could I keep quiet," and "He is not ashamed to be seen with me beside Him."
By the third verse the song shifts from a general portrait to a specific resurrection account — "the One denied stayed buried but it is alive" — placing this woman at the empty tomb, the first witness told to go and tell rather than stay silent. "All of heaven's singing glory... and then there's me, a woman" keeps the moment's scale honest, an ordinary, previously overlooked person given the first word of the biggest news there is.
The closing repetition — "I will speak of what I've seen... go and speak of what You've seen" — turns command into response, the same instruction handed back as something now willingly obeyed rather than merely received.