Bodies

Dear God, this is Kelley.

I’m feeling burdened this morning. Why? I’ve been working so hard to change my perceptions. I’m making every effort to see how You see, rather than how my childhood taught me to see. It’s like peeling away old wallpaper and putting up new.

But this particular wallpaper hurts, Lord. It hurts a great deal. It is my relationship with my body. Oh, God, do You realize how hard this will be to change? The two of us — me and my body — are estranged, to say the least. You know the degree of rage, of hurt, of sorrow that comes to the surface when it comes to my body.

Weight was central in my childhood home. Losing weight became the treasure. It would solve every problem! Being thin would make us acceptable, worthy. Being thin would remove us from the line of fire, remarks thrown that drew blood and scarred, deeply.

And it wasn’t just weight. It was the evaluation, the critique, the daily exposure to a sensualized judgment. We were not seen; our bodies were, and oh, how they disappointed!

You have shown me how to turn from this, God, and I thank You! I must do two things. I must ask You to allow me to see myself as You see me. And You do. It comes over me gradually. I feel a deep compassion. Distances I’ve constructed between me and those around me fall away. I feel okay. I feel with, among, a part of. It is a wonderful feeling.

The second thing I must do is nurture this vision. (More on this next time.) It slips away too easily, and my head falls again in shame. May I come to You often to put Your vision back on.

Reflection

How were you taught to see your body? How can you work with God to change what needs changing?

Prayer

Thank You, Lord, for this body You have given me. It has been through a lot. May I treat it, treat me with compassion, with respect, with gratitude. My body houses me. It houses You. May I see all things as You do, Lord. Amen.