Warning: Men, this is not for the faint of heart. Women, it should be okay with you, unless perhaps you’re on your period and are feeling self-centered and feisty. And now I’ll explain.
God loves rhythms. (So does my daughter Lily. You should see her shake her maracas.) I mean, look at days. The same thig happens every evening with the sunset and then there’s night and sunrise and morning. Pattern. Repetition. Rhythm.
Seasons have rhythm: summer, fall, winter, spring, and repeat.
Oceans have rhythm: low tide, swell, high tide, repeat.
The Gershwin brothers have rhythm (okay, they ‘got’ it…): rhythm, music, my man, repeat.
Our bodies have rhythm. Females bodies in particular. So much so that we call our monthly ‘affliction’ a period.
I grew up in a house of estrogen: me, my sister, and my mom. My poor dad used to joke that he was scared one week a month of saying anything. Girls, you know this–when you live with other girls, your cycles like to cycle together–it’s like the girliest thing you can do, right? Forget merely going to the bathroom together at restaurants…Cycle together.
The other day, my husband asked me as I drove him to work (and we might also have been talking through some issues caused by my monthly moody party), “Why do women’s bodies do that–cycle together?” The only answer I could come up with was this: “The kindness of God.” And we both laughed at the thought of God sparing men’s lives during the periodic havoc that hormones can wreak on domestic life…”This too shall pass.” :o)
But the more I thought about it, the bigger my idea of the kindness of God got. Come on the journey with me.
What if women falling into sync has more redemption than curse to it? We were made to live in community, right? So the periodic harmony of our bodies is inevitable. Could it also be desired? Desired for more than just a monthly prediction of crabbiness and lack of grace and composure, a time for our husbands, brothers, fathers, and sons (and preadolescent daughters and post-menapausal mothers, actually) to cling to the promise “This too shall pass”?
What if God designed us this way, vulnerably and sensitively, to reflect deep truth? That for one week, women could join together in our weakness and fight the temptation to walk (crab) in our flesh. We could grab the hem of His robe together and hang on for His life to flow through us. That one week out of the month in every community, Satan would fear for his very soul as we unite as sisters covered by the blood and walking in a deeper place of revelation. That we could rejoice in the natural rhythm of our bodies that is a testament that God made us to bear fruit and multiply, in the flesh and the spirit.
So I’m holding on to his revelation today. I may or may not be fighting the temptation to crab as I write. I’ll let you take it from here.