A gorgeous jacket caught my eye as I was flipping
through an issue of a fashion magazine, trying to find the “perfect” haircut—you
know, just cute enough to say I am still “fashionable” yet not too cute as to
say “I’m 54 years-old trying to look 30.” The jacket was what I would call “car
length.” It was covered in an animal print.
I loved it!
At that point, having lost my focus on
trying to find a picture of a perfect haircut to take to my stylist, I intently
surveyed the different animal print products—from handbags to pants to
shoes—each seeming a bit wild and yet quite appealing. Of course at my age I
couldn’t fathom donning a full-on animal print ensemble—or maybe I was never at
the correct age to wear such an outfit—but there was still something attractive
about an animal print accessory, and most especially that coat!
It just seemed “fun.”
Sometimes, as Christian women, we forget
that we are called to have fun. In our day-to-day living in which we embrace
our roles as wives and mothers and sisters and care-givers, we forget that
there ought to be joy in our journey. Often that joy is a quiet one, maybe it
settles upon our spirit during Eucharistic Adoration or it may be found in
caring for a sick family member or even in serving food to the homeless; but
other times joy is that sheer pleasure of being alive. It is that recognition
that God made us uniquely female and that we have an ability to experience our
world in a very feminine, fun way.
Time spent with our friends tends to
reflect who we are: those who have been created different but equal to men. In
the space of a lunch together we can laugh, cry, pray and laugh some more. We
have the capacity to contemplate the things of the world while being able to
loving tend to a scraped knee.
Some of us can bake and sew—this gal has
not been given those particular talents—while others may be able to organize
school plays or board meetings.
Through it all, with everything that rests
upon our shoulders, it is good to remember that we are called to have fun.
When my third son was a youngster I
remember that he used to skip everywhere he went. I got such a kick out of
watching him skipping to his bike, skipping down the hall to his bedroom and skipping
through the grocery aisles. For me, seeing him skip around reflected his innate
ability to have fun—his great joy at being alive and very much in the moment.
Ah, youth!
Looking at that animal print jacket in the
magazine, I was reminded of my son’s skipping; I was reminded that my journey,
too, is meant to be fun. As Christian women we have to be cautious to not get
too bogged down in our duties at matriarchs wherein the fun of being alive sort
of slowly vanishes.
Fun isn’t just for the young but, as they
say, for the young at heart.
None of my friends can understand why I am
so anxious for cooler temperatures to arrive. But it will all become clear when
they see the fun coat I have to wear!
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