Stained Skirts

I forget I'm female sometimes. 

It's one of the many things that define me, but I don't think of it as a primary aspect of who I am. 

My relationships and vocation are my primary definers and my female parts are down on the list.

Until I pull out two different skirts for Sunday and realize they both are stained with breast milk. 

It was disturbing and delightful. 


The disturbing part is the fact that for the last eleven years I've been pulling these skirts out, looking at them, neglecting to take them to the dry cleaners, and hanging them back into the closet. I don't even know where the dry cleaners is. 

Delightful because all the memories of trying to nurse in the sacristy (fancy name for the room that holds worship supplies) right before worship or having my kid cry in the middle of worship so my milk lets down. I once shot milk across the room when my kid got distracted while eating. Nobody talks about all the crazy things your body does while nursing and I'm thankful for the patience of my first congregations who got to learn about bodies with me. 

I'm also thankful that we all got to experience a glimpse of shalom like in Isaiah 66, "and you shall nurse and be carried on her arm, and dandled on her knees. As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you." Female bodies are a witness to how God works in this world even if they are revealing of the messier side of God.

The other day I got to sit through listening to a couple of white, hetero, male church leaders discuss female ordination. Even before the stained skirts, this was a reminder of my vagina and how some continue to think it makes me unfit for ministry. 

I don't engage these discussions; I just sit there practicing Kegels and trying not to scream or throw things. Engaging this debate is like arguing that rotary phones should replace the telegraph. Even though I love rotary phones, they are so last century. 

I gave up trying to prove my worth and calling a long time ago. I actually buy into the whole baptismal promises and moving of the Holy Spirit stuff. Now I strive for faithfulness in my relationships and vocation. That's much more the heart of who I am.