A Letter to My Body

Dear one,

You and I have been together since the very beginning of our lives.  Right at the start, before I knew any different, we got along just fine.

At some point, however, I noticed that you were not me and I was not you.

I gained some confidence in me.  Slowly, mind you, but I did.  And so I separated myself from you.  And now?  Now I recognize leadership and compassion in myself and nurture them.  I love my quick wit and my spontaneous way with words.  I am growing into patience, humility, and servanthood.  I love freely and forgive easily.  And I have come to appreciate these parts of me.  I have become quite comfortable being "beautiful on the inside."  Even if it has been a consolation prize that attempts to hide my issues from myself.

But you?  You were just kind of in the way.  I mean, you weren't hideous and didn't detract from the parts of me I loved, but you didn't help either.  You grew zits well past when it was socially acceptable.  Your thighs have always rubbed together, and it has bothered me as long as I can remember.  Your breasts were okay, but sure never got the attention breasts are supposed to get.  Your chin has this incessant hair follicle that does not give up.  Your feet have become hard, crusted, and a far cry from delicate.  And then most recently, your midsection has overstepped its bounds in a tragic way.

I have never hated all of you, but I have been irked by this or that at various times.  I have distanced myself form you and I have certainly never loved you.  I have become a master at drawing little attention to you, making sure to dress in such a way as to disguise what needs disguising.  To sit in such a way as to hide what needs hiding.  To move in such a way as to cover what needs covering.

I am sorry.

I am sorry that I have neglected to give you the credit you deserve.  I am sorry that I am ashamed of you.  I am sorry that I frown at you in the mirror.  I am sorry that you do not get the respect, honour, or appreciation you deserve.  I am sorry I discredit your Maker by harbouring negative emotions toward you.

You are not just a means to do the things I love to do.  You are not just a vehicle to get me the places I want to go.  You are me.  You are me and I am sorry for the disconnect I imposed on us long ago.  Today I recognize that I was wrong so many years ago.  You are me and I am you.

I can look at many parts of us (you and I) and be grateful for the way God made us.  The gifts and talents and abilities he wove into our being.  But most of those are on the inside.  That part is easy.

Today I claim the outside too.  I decide to believe the Highest opinion of me:  That I am as beautiful as He says.  Because He says so.  Nothing I see in the mirror will disqualify me from being beautiful today.

Lord Jesus, help me breathe in these words until I believe every one of them.