Not A "Nasty Woman" But A Blessed One
We are coming up on A Day Without Women, a brain-clumpofcells of the Women's March.
I was thinking about Ashley Judd's little rant, A Nasty Woman. It makes me sad, frankly, that this rather gross, base description of "femininity" was so highly praised. What a lost opportunity to truly celebrate what St. John Paul II referred to as the feminine genius.
Anyhow, I took the liberty of re-working the Nasty Woman piece. (By the way, that piece was written not by Judd, who performed it. It was written by 19 year old Nina Donovan.)
A Blessed Woman
I am a blessed woman. I'm not as blessed as the woman who knelt beside an animal's food trough in a cave to peer at the face of God. A baby who held the entire Universe is his tiny hand. A woman who transformed the world with one word: "Yes."
Not as blessed as that wrinkled little woman in India who saved kids. That woman who shamed a president and his wife for promoting abortion. That woman who likened children to flowers and struck fear into the hearts of many Church leaders.
I'm not as blessed or as brave as that White Rose girl - Sophie - who fought against that nasty swastika. The symbol of an evil government legally chosen, we must remember. Because we do choose evil.
I'm not as blessed or as brave as Joan who got on a bus in Mississippi to register people to vote. I'm not as blessed as Mae, who breathed in smoke so that others could stand in their school gym in November and cast a ballot.
I'm not as much of a blessing as my Dark-haired Girl, who inspires me every day to speak out and fight against traffickers - those people who believe that women and girls, boys and men, are chattel.
I'm not as blessed as that queen whose voice could blow the roof off a church, child, and who was "'buked and scorned" - but blessed as well.
I am a blessed woman. I am a daughter of God.
I'm not as blessed as Ruth. I'm not as blessed as Esther. I'm not as blessed as Therese' or Catherine, as wise as Clare, as sure as Elizabeth. I'm not as bold as Magdalene. I'm not as stubborn as Angelica (Oh, wait. Maybe I am.)
I'm not as tenacious as Kateri or as fierce as those Yazidi women, clinging to life and tradition. I am not guided like Harriet, or as assured as Bakhita. I am not as selfless as Katherine or single-minded as Susan and Dorothy. But I pray I can be!
I am blessed. Oh, Lord, I am blessed!
I am blessed, as are you, dear sister. We are blessed to be able to conceive and bear life. We can create with our Creator! We are blessed to be able to hold the world in our arms and heart. We see that child's body washed up on the beach, and he is our child.
We are hard and soft, yin and yang. We are blessed and broken, creators and created, matriarchs and queen bees. We cover like a quilt - a quilt we made with scraps our mothers gave us.
We are blessed with dignity, the dignity of holding our head high when we feed our kids with a soup full of noodles or a soup that a thin broth. Blessed in our roles as wives and mothers and friends and teachers and bus drivers and nuns and sisters and directors of plays and director of play groups.
We uncork the wine and stir the gravy and bless the food and bake the cake.
Oh, we are blessed! We are blessed because we hold peace in our hearts. We offer peace to the world and hold off destruction and sin with nothing but our wombs and breasts and heels that strike the serpent's head. We hold that power of peace in hearts souls. We are blessed.
God blesses us with a heritage of sisters. I am a blessed woman. A blessed woman indeed.
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