My Dinged and Dinted Body

When I first read what one Hollywood star spends each year to keep her body youthful, I was stunned. I immediately thought about what I'd do with all of that money. How shallow of her to spend so much trying to defy the curse course of aging! But there's a part of that in all of us. Every day we're surrounded by perfection as we see women in magazines or on tv or even in the supermarket. We eye other bloggers with the creamiest of complexions and the whitest of teeth, and we wonder what product we should buy next. 

Consider why Photoshop is so popular. We want to erase wrinkles and teeth stains and pimples. We'd like our necks a bit smoother and our eyes a bit brighter. Recently, one of the most beautiful pictures I've seen were of some fellow bloggers who hadn't covered their aging necks and crow's feet. I felt there was hope for me.

I know I would have been Eve taking that fruit, and perhaps I would be the woman fighting gravity if I had the means. You will find skin creams in my bathroom, after all. But I thank God for the hedges He's put around me. After having a botched up skin cancer removal and getting my first laser treatment to improve the scarring, I realized God has not given me a heart for Botox.

I lasted all of one minute under that laser and resigned myself to just living with the scar, dead center on my face. I was in tears and just couldn't imagine going through that procedure over and over. Now, I'm not a wimp. I've endured wisdom-teeth removal recovery with no pain medicine except Tylenol (the only time I've wanted to kill myself) . I've had 7 c-sections that normally begin with my saying, "I can feel that!". I've known the joy of two spinal headaches, catheters for weeks at a time, a herniated disc during pregnancy, and kidney stones. And that skin cancer surgery? Well, the numbing agent wore off at the end and the sound and feel of scissors clipping skin still haunts me.

As I was leaving the torture chamber dermatologist's office, I waited behind a woman with a thousand dollar bill for skin care procedures. She was aging, and she couldn't stand it. How strong is our hunger for youth that even as Christians we'll endure needles and lasers and more but find exercising ourselves unto godliness too much to bear.

The other day when I woke up from a nap, I discovered a new benefit of aging. I had a crease on my face that wanted to taunt me awhile. I like those other wrinkles that take a bit of time, not the ones that scream,"Elasticity deficiency! You're getting OLD! Make sure you don't sleep on your side anymore," as it disappears with a despicable cackle.

And let's add in the wear our bodies know from pregnancy and motherhood. How many women will reject the joy of giving life because they can't part with idols in the form of flat stomachs and 23 inch waists? How many mothers won't sit down to a good meal with their family because food is the enemy? How many stories aren't getting read to our babies or moments being enjoyed as a family because Mama must get her workout in and get to the tanning salon, too? How many Mamas have the loveliest manicured nails but tongues like asps?

When was the last time we heard our bodies were meant to be dinged and dinted for God's glory instead of preserved like priceless items in a museum?

"First of all, our bodies are tools, not treasures. You should not spend your days trying to preserve your body in its eighteen-year-old form. Let it be used. By the time you die, you want to have a very dinged and dinted body. Motherhood uses your body in the way that God designed it to be used. Those are the right kind of damages.

Scars and stretch marks and muffin tops are all part of your kingdom work. One of the greatest testimonies Christian women can have in our world today is the testimony of joyfully giving your body to another."

~Rachel Jankovic

Loving the Little Years

I need lots of grace to embrace my dinged and dinted body, to see it as something beautiful instead of something to be fixed or injected or lasered or peeled. It's God' s grace that reminds me I have crow's feet because I've known much laughter in my life and that I have a worn body because I've known the joy of carrying 13 babies in my womb.

It's God's grace that let's me hear, "You're beautiful" from my Beloved and not want to cringe and convince myself he's a liar. It's God's grace that reminds me sacrifice costs something, but that cost is nothing compared to the joy of living a life fully, with a dinged and dinted body but a fat soul, to the glory of God.

With love,

Trisha