My Daily Bread - Day 1
Last night, I was stuck in a "woe is me" moment. Yes, there was more to it than just feeling sorry for myself, but it slowly ventured into some of the thoughts I let my mind go to when I am in the midst of any storm. I start to pick at myself, what I hate, what I wish I could change, and most often it heads down the body image road.
I have two kids, they are well over the age to blame them for any leftover pregnancy weight, but I still have images of my body as something that temporarily housed 2 babies, but will never look the same. I have been slowly losing weight for the last few weeks, so to find myself in this slump was weird. I started listing off the things that I hated about my body and going on and on about all the little things I pick at.
- "My legs are dimply, my hair isn't as lush as it used to be, my skin is breaking out", and then I said the one that has bothered me the most (Because for 8 years I have felt that it was unfair) - and by this point I could hear how redundant and whiny I sounded, so my tone was somewhat in a joke (but deep down I still felt this way) state.
"My skin has stretch mark scars all over and I look like a rubber band that has been left out in the sun...."
and BAM - He Hit ME! He hit me hard! - he said...
"I know someone who was stretched out and scarred for you"
I stopped... he didn't need to say anything else. It was as if I had heard something for the first time even though I had heard this thousands of times.
Never once did I think about the body of Jesus and what he looked like after dying for me. My mind went to his scars on his hands and feet, but Jesus was flogged for me, and dragged for me, and carried his cross for me. He bears his scars as a symbol of love. So why do I bear mine as a symbol of shame. My scars don't say to people I am shameful, my scars don't say to people I am a failure, My scars say to people I sacrificed a little to gain a lot.
I hope if you are reading this and you look at your body as something tarnished, or unfixable, you will say to yourself "What does my body say I have been through?" and you walk with pride.
Because friends, this body is temporary, and sadly to say... DYING... It's inevitable, so erasing years is like trying to forget the past, and memories, and life. Maybe God allows us to have physical reminders of the joys, sorrows, hardships so that we can remember. Cool scar stories are sometimes the funnest to look back on, so why not look at every stretch mark and remember the gift we have to give life, and sacrificially love to a minuscule degree Jesus did for us.