Horizons magazine is published by Presbyterian Women (PW) the national women’s organization of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).
Issue link: http://horizons.epubxp.com/i/52581
third child in four years, I didn't have the time, energy or funds to keep coloring my hair, which also got shorter with each birth. When our youngest son was born, I figured I'd better quit having kids or I'd just have to shave my head to keep up with everything. Taking Pride in My "Crown of Glory" I say that I am lucky to have gone gray prematurely because, at the time, I was in my early 30s. I had a young face, strong body, healthy skin, dark eyebrows. The gray hair was so obviously premature that I received lots of compliments. "I love your hair!" strangers would tell me. "I wish I had the courage to let my hair go gray!" they'd say. My reply— "Why don't you?"—defied answer. The gray hair, instead of making me look old, made it more obvious that the rest of me was young. My gray hair became a source of pride. I strutted around with my white mane like a proverbial peacock—a bleached peacock, but no less proud. One day, the neighbor boy asked me, "Kaffy, why is your hair white? My grandma has white hair, too." And before I could answer, my preschool son replied, "Because God made it that way! Right, mom?" What a great answer! Proverbs 16:31 soon became my life motto: "Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained in a righteous life." I quoted it whenever I had the chance, a smug smile on my smooth, unwrinkled face. I should have read an earlier verse of that same proverb, which warns that "Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall" (16:18). My pride was about to come a'tumblin' down. Without my 20 even being aware of it, the rest of me caught up to my gray hair! My body started to sag. My skin aged. My eyebrows fell out. Before I knew what hit me, I no longer had a young face with premature gray hair. I had a body that matched the hair—an "old" body. Or middle-aged, at least. Oh, aging, you are a sly beast. You creep up on us and we don't even see you coming until it is too late! When did my cute freckles become age spots? How did my laugh lines turn into crow's feet? I felt ambushed. I didn't feel lucky anymore. The Age-old Question About Old Age Our culture is so youth-oriented, so hell-bent on making women feel ugly and used up just because our hair turns gray and our bodies start to sag and our joints get rickety. Men are allowed to get wrinkles and gray hair, and still be considered sexy. But women? The cosmetic industry is booming, with ever-new products to stop aging! Reduce cellulite! Erase wrinkles! Fade those dastardly age spots! Heaven forbid, ladies, don't let the signs of aging show. Apparently, it's downright shameful to look your age if you're past 25. Just think, though—if we all refused to color our hair and wore sunscreen from an early age, the money saved could be used to pay off the national debt. Along with the shame we incur from letting our age show, we aren't even valued for the wisdom we've gained along life's way. There are traditions and cultures that honor the wisdom of the elders in their society, but ours is not one of them. Embracing the Wise Woman Two years ago, I spent two weeks at a writer's retreat on the southwest tip of Ireland. I felt like I had found a long-lost member of my family. Ireland filled my spirit with its beauty and friendly people. My soul felt both rooted and winged at the same time. I learned a bit of Celtic theology during my stay. There is a respect for the tradition of the Wise Woman that goes back for centuries. The Wise Woman is equally content in her home and in the outside world. She is strong and tender, sensible and sensitive. She stands up against injustice and nurtures those in her own sphere. She is respected as a woman. She is comfortable in her own skin, wrinkled or not. As I learned about the Wise Woman, I thought, "That's what I want to be when I grow up!" That's what I want to be now! A Wise Woman. Comfortable in my own, wrinkled skin, age spots and all, and honored for both the years I've been around and the wisdom I've gained in that time. Happy with Who I Am Celtic theology is not the only theology that blesses the Wise Woman. I look again at the book of Proverbs, from whence I gleaned my solo verse about gray hair. There, in the very pages of the Bible, wisdom is referred to as "she": Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice. At the busiest corner she cries out; at the entrance of the city gates, she speaks . . . —Proverbs 1:20–21