Maiden, Mother, Sage
Hi. I’m the Gypsy Woman and I am Peri-Menopausal…
Hi Gypsy Woman!
Humorously I have had the pleasure of asking junior high, high school youth and some of the wonderful college age colleagues I have worked with this summer and encountered during camp and now at the church where I will be working at this academic year, what my actual age is.
Women of African Descent have the distinct pleasure of either aging gracefully or with not honoring how the Creator has poured into our spirits and very beings the blessing of being beautiful, destroying His handiwork and aging at a rapid pace thanks to makeup, poor diet and other inhibitors.
From a young age, my mother restricted my diet to one of disgusting healthiness, did not allow me to wear makeup and banned sodas all together. The result?
As I blossomed from maiden to Motherhood, apparently I confused humanity. I did not experience debauchery at a young age therefore if I partake of a glass of wine, hard cider or stay up until the ungodly hours of 2am attempting to finish a paper or two it won’t affect me. Also working 2 full summers at my wonderful camp on what I like to call “the 640 diet” of 640 acres of madness consumed by Creation is healthy for me as well.
Motherhood suits me.
However the Creator has other plans for me, so as Jeremiah 29:11 states. This pathway of ministry specifically ordination keeps my soul saturated and occupied…which means the expansion of the Treehouse was not in order.
This is the Season of the Sage Woman. I refuse to acknowledge that I am a Crone. The natural beauty of which I was blessed coupled with the God-given energy that infuses into me each rising of the dawn by no means I am slowing down with the softness of a trickling brook. With sorrow I must however realize that I may not be able to have children again; that they will not come from within, share my genes. That I will not be able to cradle the swelling of my stomach and raise my gentle voice in song.
Motherhood however, I shall not part with yet.
There are still children who have been cast aside and abandoned; there are children who our presence as pastoral leaders we are charged with walking the journey with; there are classmates who consider me wise and playfully call me Mama Gypsy.
Selfishly I still wind myself around my weeping willow and childishly ask the Creator for just one more child from who I am. From the mysterious smile I can imagine on God’s features that answer may not come for quite sometime. Joyfully however, I accept the charge of this pastoral path He has carved out for me, that I continue to dive into this ministry and mission each day, that I step out on Faith and embrace His love even if it means the answer is “no.”
So, my journey from Motherhood to Sage Woman continues.
I just wish these damned hot flashes would cease!
Lape Bondye, God’s Peace.