“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”
I would like to tell you that when the priest spoke these words and spread ashes on my forehead on Ash Wednesday, my heart was moved to some “right” place. It wasn’t. Instead, when I went back to my pew and prayed, I felt seen—but not in a way that I wanted.
Perimenopause. This word had been creeping into my conversations, dropped in group texts, joked about in passing with friends. I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. But there I was, sitting in a pew with ashes on my forehead, reminding me of my body’s temporal reality, which I would prefer to conveniently ignore: Fertility, once a defining part of my womanhood, was slipping away from me.
OK, Lord, I prayed on Ash Wednesday, my gaze resting on the statue of Jesus, suffering on the cross for me. I don’t need a reminder that I’m turning to dust! I lamented, a little bitterly. My body is already revealing to me this truth, daily. O Lord, I feel it in every random pain up my leg, every heart palpitation, every headache, every random anxious moment that’s interrupting my life.O, Lord! I wrapped my arms around my stomach as I prayed, placed my hands on my heart, felt it racing.
But as Catholic women, we are called to embrace our bodies, with all their changes—hormonal or otherwise—and not to hide from what they reveal at different stages. We should not become hyper-focused on one life stage or another, but rather acknowledge and, yes, celebrate and embrace each new pattern. The liturgical calendar teaches us that each season holds a different promise of growth for us. It is one of the reasons I have come, as a convert, to love the church with all her rhythms.
All of our bodies are created by God as a gift, and like earth itself, they ebb and flow in different ways. We as humans change, grow and have much to offer to those in communion and in relationship with us if we embrace rather than dismiss our changes. Thus, even in discomfort and uncertainty, our bodies witness to the truth of our journeys toward God—and those who journey alongside us, too.
To continue reading this article, click here.
LuElla D’Amico is an associate professor of English and coordinator of Women’s and Gender Studies at the University of the Incarnate Word in San Antonio, Tex.
With thanks to America and LuElla D’Amico, where this article originally appeared.
