This season of my life is revealing a unique tension: the slow ache of aging in a culture that idolizes youth and outward appearance. Pre-kids, femininity felt easier to embody—fresh skin, fewer lines, energy to spare…. But now? I carry more wrinkles, some weariness, and a body that doesn’t bounce back like it used to. It’s easy to ask myself, What remains when outward beauty fades, when I don’t feel as vibrant as I used to, and when I am not seen the way I once was? Does that make me less feminine?

More often than not, when I gather with friends, our conversations tend to steer toward aging, changing bodies, wrinkles, and health. And nine times out of ten, I walk away with a new face product, supplement, or routine to try. To describe it to someone who is not yet in this ‘later stage of life’, it feels a bit like we’re in a race. A race to try the next thing, a race to fight more wrinkles, a race to get leaner, a race to essentially, ‘slow down time.’ It can be both exhausting and exhilarating. But it can also very swiftly and sneakily steer our eyes away from the very place they need to be fixed.

The world may view aging as a slow decline or a gradual fading away. But consider, as each year goes by, when walking with Christ, this idea of “aging” is actually a deepening. A further grounding. A growing into the fullness of who we are. Wisdom replaces insecurity. Discernment overtakes striving. The need to be noticed is outpaced by the desire to be faithful. And “aging” isn’t defined by wrinkles; rather, it’s defined by who we are becoming in our walk with the Lord.

Sounds pretty refreshing, doesn’t it?

Last year, I completed Kristi McLelland’s Bible study, “Jesus and Women: In the First Century and Now”. It’s a powerful study that invites women to understand the heart of Jesus through the lens of first-century Middle Eastern culture. She underscores that Jesus consistently dignified, elevated, and empowered women, especially in ways that would have been radically countercultural in His time.

Her study calls modern women to see themselves in the Gospel story and to live as deeply loved, fully restored daughters of God. She reminds us that Jesus doesn’t just include women in the story—He dignifies our presence within it. Through a Middle Eastern lens, her study of Jesus and women reveals that femininity is not a flaw to manage but a glory to behold. Ah…let that sink in.

In first-century culture, women were often invisible. But Jesus turns toward them. In a world that diminished women, Jesus brought them into center view.

He saw them when no one else did.
He spoke to them when no one else would.
He taught them, honored them, healed them, and trusted them.

The bleeding woman in Mark 5 wasn’t just healed—she was named. Seen. Called Daughter.

The Samaritan woman at the well in John 4 wasn’t shamed—she was chosen to carry living water back to her whole community.

Mary of Bethany wasn’t dismissed for sitting at His feet; Jesus said she had “chosen what is better” (Luke 10:42).

And Mary Magdalene? She was the first to witness and proclaim Jesus’ resurrection!

Their femininity wasn’t wrapped in appearance, status, or youth. It was defined by their encounters with Jesus and His unwavering invitation to belong. He didn’t ask them to prove their worth—He reminded them of it. And that’s the message I needed in this current season of my life. A reminder that femininity, in the hands of Christ, is something I can continue to grow into as I abide more deeply in Him. I used to think this idea of femininity was something I had to protect—my youth, my beauty, my relevance. Now I see it as something Jesus protects in me, not through preservation, but through restoration. He’s not asking me to keep up; He’s inviting me to go deeper.

Femininity, in the Kingdom of God, is about who we are in Christ. It’s about flourishing as the woman God uniquely created me to be. Becoming more rooted in love, more grounded in wisdom, and more surrendered in spirit—more like the women Jesus always saw, not for what they could offer, but for who they already were. And it’s not defined by what society says it should be, what I do, how I look, or how I respond to the world. It’s about how I live, leaning into the who Jesus says I am.

So, consider how femininity in this season could be reframed:

• Redefining beauty by how fully I show up, not how few lines I carry.
• Making peace with my body and celebrating what it’s carried.
• Rooting myself in wisdom rather than chasing relevance.
• Letting tenderness be a sign of strength, not weakness.
• Honoring rest as resistance to a world that equates worth with productivity.
• Trusting that nurturing my soul is just as valuable as caring for others.
• Living with open hands—less to grasp for, more to give.
• Letting go of what no longer fits, even if it once looked good on me.
• Laughing at the days to come, not because they’ll be easy, but because I no longer fear who I’ll become.

If you’re here too, in the middle of the shift and the questions about what your womanhood means now, hear this:

You are still radiant. Still seen. Still invited to the feet of Jesus. Not despite your age, but because of the beauty that’s growing within it.

So, I ask again, What remains when outward beauty fades, when I don’t feel as vibrant as I used to, and when I am not seen the way I once was? Does that make me less feminine?

Femininity isn’t about shrinking back, but about stepping forward—into the story Jesus is still writing for me and for us all, where every woman is seen, known, and called by name.

Lord, I’m so grateful that You created me as a woman here, on this earth, for such a time as this. I pray that as each day, month, and year goes by, I can continue to grow in Your love, wisdom, and strength, and that I spend more time building into my relationship with You than I do building my next anti-aging routine. Thank You for reminding me that what others see is Your light shining through me, not the number of wrinkles on my face. Please help me to continue to walk in Your truth and light, and to encourage others to do the same. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.