menopaused

A dense fog settled over me for several years. Like the fog slowing urban streets where we lived during part of that time.

Nearing 50, I joked about brain overload. How pieces of my mind were escaping. Slipping away. 

But this was disorienting. 

The thick fog outside our urban apartment hid the sun. Birds stopped singing.

I struggled to sing too. During the season I was menopaused.

Nothing felt right

Ever creative and creating–that was me.

Suddenly the story-writing stopped. Free verse didn’t flow.

Planning for retreats or worship was difficult. I labored. But nothing felt right. 

I couldn’t remember names and places. 

I asked my doctor if this was normal. Talked with other women. No one seemed to have much to say.  

I don’t remember

I met a woman in her 60s. A creative. And asked what her menopause experience was like. 

Did she have trouble thinking? 

When did the creativity come back? 

She thought for a moment. Then laughed and said, “You know, I don’t remember.”

Precisely.

I don’t remember.

Accepting

Her statement somehow gave me hope. Helped me not to take it so seriously. 

Around that same time, I read an article about accepting your life season. The one you’re currently experiencing.

And trusting that God is not surprised by this. 

His purpose will still be fulfilled in and through His earthen vessel, no matter what.

Clarity

I’m not gonna lie. Menopause felt like forever. 

But the fog did lift. Clarity of thought returned. Memory? Not so much. 

But laughter about it did.

Menopaused

Perhaps you’ve been there or know someone who has. Maybe you’re in the throes of it now. 

One of these days I’ll share some bits and pieces from that season. Scraps of thought that found their way into my journal. 

During the years I was menopaused. 

“But this I call to mind,
    and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.”
Lamentations 3:21-23 ESV

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