The Two Hundred Twenty-One Day of 2023

Gentle Reader,

I turned 39 last Thursday. The white hairs keep showing up. I have a herniated disc in my low back and am going to physical therapy once a week for it. I do not understand skibidi toilet, the internet’s latest meme. Given that the average lifespan for a women living in the United States is 77.28 years (according to Google), I have crossed the line into middle age.

And I don’t hate it.

There will likely always be pressure on women to look younger than we are, to be thinner than we currently are, to be accomplished but not too accomplished so nobody feels threatened, to bake rather than buy cookies for the kids, etc. An unending list. I touched on this in my post about the Barbie movie last week. I wonder: Who came up with the unending list? Men? Women? Both? Whoever it is, I’m not sure why we decided they are in charge. Or just accepted that they are in charge.

I had to bike for six minutes while at physical therapy today. Across the aisle from me, doing something that will, I assume, improve shoulder problems, sat a woman who was probably in her early sixties. Her hair was all gray. Many fine lines crisscrossed her face, with the promise of deeper ones to come. It was obvious that she was in pain as she winced her way through her exercise (as all of us in that small gym were doing), but something about her communicated contentment. Like she knows who she is, what she’s about. And she had the prettiest smile when she finished her exercise and her therapist ushered her onto the next thing. She was proud of the work that she’d put in. And that made me smile.

My mom is battling breast cancer right now. She’s had a lumpectomy, some lymph nodes removed, and a port placed. She’ll start chemo and antibody therapy in the next week or so. She cut her gray-and-white hair short in anticipation of losing it all. She’s sick, and she’ll be sicker as the treatment does its dirty work. My dad holds her hand when they’re out together, as he’s always done. I know that she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. And that makes me smile.

There are times when I look in the mirror and wonder why this or that looks a little different. I’m not immune to the pressures of the long list. But as I sit here today, wondering why physical therapists are so mean and knowing that I’ll need to use a heat pad here in a bit, I’m able to get some distance for whatever reason. You can’t fight aging. You can’t fight the changes. Yes, we can and should take care of ourselves to the best of our abilities. We should exercise (in ways that bring us joy; don’t run miles if you hate running) and we should eat well (without buying into the lie of “good” and “bad” food). But none of that erases the expiration date on these bodies. You will get wrinkly. Your hair will change. Your hearing and sight will diminish.

It’s okay.

Just take a breath.

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
    you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
    Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
    I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
    you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
    how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
    all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
    before I’d even lived one day.

– Psalm 139:13-16 (MSG)

You don’t stop being marvelously made when you stop being eighteen.

You don’t stop being marvelously made when you stop fitting into a size small (which is a whole different subject, because there is no standard sizing in women’s clothing).

You don’t stop being marvelously made when the skin of yours hands starts to become crepey.

You don’t stop being marvelously made when you can’t have kids, or the relationship ends, or the job doesn’t pan out.

There’s an expiration date on your body, but there’s no expiration date on its marvelousness. Because there’s no end to the marvelousness of God.

So, if it takes you a little longer to stand up, you can’t eat like you did when you were younger, and you need to incorporate more stretching into your daily routine – welcome. Appreciate the goodness of this day, this moment. God lovingly created you and placed you at this point on the timeline. Every beat of your heart is a holy gift.

Enjoy it.

GRACE AND PEACE ALONG THE WAY,

MARIE

Image Courtesy of Bruce Tang