This body of mine bears scars.
Scars from mishaps.
Scars from pain stitched up while tears fell.
Scars from the life it’s carried and brought into this world.
This body of mine is constantly changing. It is a map of where life has led it. It is a mirror reflecting it’s challenges and joys; the signs of laughter, moments in the sun, the movements and strength that have shaped it. And every bite and sip that has done the same.
I am grateful that I was thoughtfully welded together; every bar, every bolt- made to do great things. I am thankful that this body has been a home for my babies. A place for them to grow and kick. I’m thankful to have heard their hearts beating alongside mine. I care for this body because it’s a gift. I did nothing to create it. It is a miraculous work lent to me for a short while. And I need it to carry me through.
But I am not my body. I am a soul.
And one day my soul is going to fly right out of this cage. Maybe it will look down at the life lived. Maybe it will see the scars. And maybe it will smile at it all. Then it will look up. Forward. To the light and it’s Maker ahead. It will move unencumbered. No rails confining it. It will go home. And the cage will stay behind.
What a deception to have us all obsess over the cage. What a sorrow to long to be loved only for the state of our cage. What a heartbreak to think the cage is all we are worth. What a folly to value one cage over another. How foolish it is to ignore the soul.
In the midst of:
Celebration and struggle.
Pain and healing.
Toil and rest.
May we remember to not only care for the body given; but to invest in the soul that will carry on when that body ends it’s journey.