I have learnt to consider the challenges of menopause through the unique perspective of faith

Midlife and menopause are having a bit of a moment. The conversation is everywhere, in bestselling books, podcasts, social media, television, and in news articles. What was once known as the silent passage, The Change which women endured in embarrassment and shame, is silent no more.

Greater awareness of symptoms and the widespread sharing of information now enables women to support one another and seek help from their G.P. Greater advocacy in women’s healthcare is to be celebrated, because it equips us with choices we might previously not have had access to.

At age forty-five I’m the target market for menopause messaging

At age forty-five I’m the target market for menopause messaging, and I’ve found that some online voices are louder and more persuasive than others. Since entering my forties, the message I’ve been receiving is that this will be a decade where I’m going to be plunged into hormonal upheaval and it’s probably going to be a bin-fire.

Suddenly, every single twinge, ache and pain is a potential sign of perimenopause and as well as making me feel empowered with knowledge, it’s been making me anxious.

No longer is this a worry to be relegated to my fifties. Now it’s happening earlier, in ways I previously might not have even noticed, but online checklists are determined I will notice absolutely everything from dry eyes, runny eyes, itchy ears, palpitations, stomach pains, achy legs, you name it, it’s on the list of self-selected, potential symptoms. Suddenly, every single twinge, ache and pain is a potential sign of perimenopause and as well as making me feel empowered with knowledge, it’s been making me anxious.

It’s my goal to bring the menopause conversation into the church to ask the question: Does scripture tell a different story? Not one which denies the value of hormone therapy or modern medicine, but one which might support women in mind and soul whilst going through this transition? One which might balance the dominant narrative of hormone deficiency and disorder with one which uplifts and comforts midlife women? One which equips us spiritually and gives us the courage to face whatever is coming?

There’s a story in Matthew and Luke’s gospel which makes me think of the debilitating nature of hot flushes, that archetypal symptom of perimenopause. It’s one of a series of healing stories, where Jesus cures a leper, fixes a paralysed servant, and drives out demons, but this particular story gets lost amidst all the razzmatazz of the more miraculous healings. In Matthew 8:14-16 and Luke 4:38-41, there is a short, blink and you’ll miss it healing involving Peter’s mother-in-law. This is a woman with an adult child so she’s probably middle-aged, and the text tells us that she’s lying in bed with a fever. No other symptoms are given for what ails this woman, other than being hot and sweaty, but what we are told is that Jesus stands close by her, holds her hand, the fever leaves her and she gets up and serves him.

As a deacon, ordained in God’s church to serve, this story of a woman whose feverish symptoms are rebuked by Jesus and cast off so she can get up and serve God, captures my imagination. The word used in the original Greek text to denote service – diakonei - probably wasn’t intended to denote diaconal service, in an ecclesiastical sense, because it refers to attending to physical needs, but this isn’t in any way a less powerful or valuable way of serving God. The gifts of healing and hospitality are as essential to the kingdom of God as the gifts of preaching and prophesying. It’s a story of the equality of Jesus’ ministry, giving as it does a glimpse of a fairer social structure, where women were valued members of the team. It’s also a situation where someone is laid low with a fiery fever but is touched by Jesus and ‘literally rises to the occasion.’

That line of scripture has given me such encouragement and solace. I have it written down and pinned above my desk: She got up and she served. God’s word is the antidote to a culture swirling with too much information and loud, contradictory voices. My faith is my anchor in a season which could be so characterised by dread that I miss out on what God has to show me. My faith tells me that if I want to manage this transition well, I need to allow Jesus to come close by and let him take me by the hand.