"Beauty" and Beauty / Growing up / Loving the Father

The Body. His body. My body.

I. The Body

Christ reaches through separation.

Across any border or any division, the Body of Christ, the Church, extends beyond.

Male, female, transgender.

Wealthy, impoverished.

Straight, homosexual, bisexual.

White, black, mixed race.

Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox.

Monocultural, multicultural.

Conservative, liberal.

Athlete, academic.

Introvert, extrovert.

Feminist, chauvinist

Single, married.

Refugee, native.

The list goes on.

Through it all, Christ reigns, Christ loves, and Christ speaks.

I’d go so far as to say the Church is at it’s most healthy when it listens and speaks through all of these. Jesus speaks most profoundly through the marginalized, the weak, the minority.

And here is our great opportunity: we can set it all down, stare one another in the face, and realize we are one and the same: sinners. 

The global family of adopted and messed up kids under the one perfectly loving Father.

God our Father, may I be part of the movement in your family that welcomes any and all. Not to fill a pew and gain attendees. Instead,  may I be one to welcome into this family, into leadership, into deacons, elders, and pastors. Let us echo the voices that need to be heard.  Yet, in order to be heard, help the majority quiet down and in order that we may listen. Let these thick lines between us become thinner and thinner until there are none at all. May the peace of Christ dwell in us richly. 

II. His body

Logos, the word. Truth in fleshly form. Holy second person of the trinity.

In the culmination of every act of the Father, Son, and Spirit, the holy union was torn apart. Crucified.

By our lies, he was stabbed.

Our pride, he was hit.

Our impurity, his skin broke and blood spilled.

A body bruised and battered.

He looks me in the eye and I know that I cannot stand in His presence.

His fully dead and physical body, rises.

Thread by thread a veil was torn.

Holy Spirit breathes life once more into lungs.

The Truth, the divine human body awakens.

Everything else is history.

It’s now a matter of Before Christ, and in the Year of Our Lord.

Holy Spirit, remind me in my every day of the truth of this event. Sear the images into my soul, that I do not carry out my life in a manner of selfishness. Keep me focused on the eternality of that deathly moment that gave me my every life.

III. My body

Nothing is so dear to us as our own bodies. Flesh homes. Blood vessel temples.

We scratch, stretch, strain, pull, sing, drink, whistle, lunge.

As a female, I am bound to a certain perspective on my body.

Be beautiful, but don’t you tempt anyone.

Be adventurous, but you might not be safe.

Trust, but don’t be naive.

Bear the weight, shield yourself, cover up.

Keep your secrets, you’re alone.


Serve. Toil. Bend. Ache.

Make home. Make love. Make child.

Let head rest on your shoulder, hand on your chest.

Small ones reach for you, seeking your nourishing ways.

Big ones reach for you, seeking to adore you.

The physicality of the female body is a wonder beyond my own understanding.

A freak of nature, this body we inherit.

A mysterious blessing, this my earthly home.

Jesus, dwell within this body. Inspire a generation that honors the human body, one that does not degrade or exploit. Keep this body safe, keep this body holy. Raise up young men of respect. Raise up young women of freedom. May I honor your name with the things my body does. 

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,



2 thoughts on “The Body. His body. My body.

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