Body

You have to walk like you have three men behind you.

-Oscar de la Renta

I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. 

-David, Psalm 139

My friend Amy once told me that it was ok, even good for bodies to change. Actually, she said that it was beautiful. This was after I told her I’d gained some weight and my face was oily and acne-scarred, and I was really upset about my haggard appearance. I hadn’t been exercising or taking much care of myself much. Honestly, there wasn’t much to be proud of whenever I looked in the mirror. When Amy said that Big Truth to me, I was stunned. Oh. Wait. Really? Yes, yes, it is good for bodies to age. No one had ever told me this. It’s beautiful for a 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90 year-old to freaking change, to not have the body of someone younger or with a different shape. It’s even beautiful to embrace and love whatever your body looks like. Own it, sister.  

Since that time, I’ve started to see my body as a beautiful thing. I’ve never really heard that it’s ok to see it that way. I used to think I needed to hate it, beat up on it, only see the blemishes, only tell others about the flaws. I never felt really at home in my own body as a teenager, as a young adult. But I started to relax about it. I’ve been feeding my body cookies, kale, coconut oil AND coconut ice cream, carrots, cake, and some really weird hippie stuff. I let it lounge on the couch, then I try to take it on a walk or curl into a yoga pose. I also try to paint my toenails sometimes, or experiment with a curling iron. I want to feel pretty. I admit it! I give it loads of coffee, water, and the occasional margarita. What can I say...I’m all about hydration. I want to feel at home in my own skin. I want to feel my muscles move and become strong. I want to stretch and not die when I try to touch my toes. I want to feel free and love my body. There, I said it. And you know what, I think I really do. 

Of course, it’s not that easy all the time, is it? I’ve been struggling with health for a few years, and it’s a slow process back to some kind of move-ability, health-ability. Food allergies kick one’s tail, it appears. So does stress. The mirror still tells me I look haggard and pale. So it’s been baby steps back to health. I’ve realized that health is not a given at any time. Health can be taken at any time, and put you back any number of devastating steps. There are times when I’m really tempted to be angry and tell my body it’s stupid. Ok, a lot of times. Fine, MOST TIMES. But then I think back to what Amy said, and then I remember truths about being fearfully and wonderfully made, and how Jesus came to heal sick and broken hearts and bodies, and I am encouraged to keep going, to keep trusting that even my sick body is worthy, lovely, and even beautiful. Just how it is. Un-toned. Unable to do even half a girl-pushup. Still acne-scarred. Covered and drenched in aches and pains most times. Participating in Mostly-No-Shave-Winter. 

I believe that when we embrace our bodies as they are, maybe even be kind to them, we proclaim God’s glory in them. God’s glory and creativity and joy in life can be seen by everyone in our bodies. The apostle Paul, himself a man with physical troubles, says that if we are followers of Christ, then we carry in our bodies the death of Jesus. So that the life of Jesus may also be seen in the same bodies! Your body is worthy of kindness and attention-it carries around the essence of God Himself. What a glorious mystery, what a somber truth, what an astounding thing. Your body, as it is right now, is beautiful. Your body, as it is, shows the world His truth and love. Your body is a temple of the living God. Right now. 

So go out there and give thanks by doing what makes you feel beautiful. Maybe even gorgeous? Drink lots of water. Buy new lip gloss. Don’t wait till you’ve lost weight or can run 30 minutes on the treadmill to buy a new sparkly dress or a gorgeous bouquet of fresh flowers. Go on a walk around your neighborhood. Have some friends over and make a meal. Do some art. Sit up straight. Write a poem. Take a really long hot bubble bath. Don’t forget your vitamin D if you live even remotely north of the equator. Go read Psalm 139 or 2 Corinthians 4.  Do some yoga. I don’t know! It’s whatever makes you feel lovely and beautiful as you are.

Treasuring Change

Everybody’s changing, and I don’t feel the same. 

-Keane

But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead. 

-The Apostle Paul, Letter to the Philippians

Last Tuesday, my favorite and I celebrated two whole years of marriage together. It’s hard to imagine that not too long ago, we were planning wedding festivities and future plans together. Now we are in the middle of this astounding marriage between two imperfect but wholly commited people. Two years into this change, I still marvel at God’s grace and joy at blessing me in this way. It is the beautiful making, the growing, of me.

Yet in the midst of joyfully learning and embracing being one in life, I am realizing more and more the need for some silence, for some solitude. The older I get, the more changes I go through, and the more time I need to just think about them. I balk at most of them, to be honest. Through all the large ones and small ones alike-I usually grit my teeth and just try to get through the change. In the past few  years, there have been things like marriage, job changes, health changes, food-allergy changes, and relationship changes, just to name a few.

I was reminded recently during our small group of the life of Mary, the mother of Jesus, in the context of transition. I hadn’t really thought before how much transition and change she went through. She was told she would be the mother of God, then she was called upon to let go of that responsibility in leaps and bounds throughout her life. A missing-for-three-days 12-year old Jesus told her and Joseph that he was merely going about his father’s business...and not Joseph’s business. She was abruptly told that his real mother, his real family were those who did the will of his father in heaven. She was constantly being tugged and pulled upon to change; indeed, she had no other choice but to embrace all these changes for the good of the gospel. She had to step aside and lay down her God-given role as Jesus’ earthly mother, so he could become the Savior of the world, of her world.

How did she do it? I mean, really? The more I think about it, the more amazing her story and life becomes. We are told consistently that she pondered, that she treasured, that she stored up the events and words of these transitions. Was that her secret to not imploding? Not to merely ruminate or notate, but to treasure the change. What does that really mean? What does He want me to treasure, to ponder, to store up in my heart? What does He want me to let go of, in order to make way for positive new things? I am not a gracious changer! Not even with the good things. I burrow deep down in my little life, clench the earth in my tight greedy fingers, clinging to what I know in the shadows. Even when I'm gently called upon by my God to come out into the sunlight and dance. Dance in the new gifts He's given me. Dance throughout the changes. To grow more flexible, to open my closed hands more readily. He wants to shower gifts of freedom, laughter, purpose, meaning, health, strength, grief, joy. My head is usually tucked in, my arms crossed, my eyes closed to the good things of God. One of those very good things is...change. I've always seen change as the mortal enemy. Change takes away the familiar, the usual, the cozy-worn-in-slipper feeling of my life. Changes bring bracing winds, reviving rain through a constant need for decision, a constant need for Jesus. Surely the gift of decision...how will we choose our life's path...how will we handle change thrust upon us...how will we respond to daily joys and sorrows, to pain of all kinds, to life-changing events...is a true joy, a true responsibility.

I'm finally realizing that I can embrace change with joy and courage. My head doesn't have to hang low...I don't just have to grit my teeth and hold on. Even though that is sometimes all I feel I can do! But it seems that somewhere deep inside, I have the guts and the determination and the know-how to change with grace and confidence. We don't just have to love change for the sake of change, either. We don't just have to "treasure" seemingly random change or difficult transition without any reason. The reason is because we are born to change. Changing means growth. I’m realizing that of course, I don't want to stay the same! I do want to grow...and that does mean transition by necessity. Perhaps this is one reason Jesus used the metaphor of the vine and the branch when illustrating the life of a lover of God-because learning to abide means learning to change. The branch grows around and into and takes hold of the vine, the root, the trunk-the source of strength and existence. And it's beautiful and natural and good and hard to change. It takes seasons and time and all kinds of weather for a tree to fully mature. Here's to growing up in hope, faith, and love, looking forward with joy.