So now, I love my body.

Paul, me and Paul's brother, John 11-80

I don't know if I've been organizing pictures because I blog or blogging because I've been organizing pictures, but either way I've been finding some great pics that I don't remember seeing before. One picture I found a couple of weeks ago kind of started a tantrum.  The contrast between 20 year old me and 50 year old me did not make me very happy.  I was mad...mad because I didn't appreciate what I had when I was twenty and mad because I had aged just like I said I wouldn't.  I was mad at my body.

I was carrying on with this sulking and pouting in my mind as I sat in church choir, and then I had an epiphany.  I'm going to go so far as to say an inspiration.  The thought came to me that my body had done amazing things for me.  It had married my husband and born my children and basically given me all the people I love best.  It takes me on walks and drives me on road trips.  It learns new things and gets me out of tight spots.  It works if I tell it to and heals itself.  It dances and sings and finds things to laugh at and then laughs...long.  It sleeps and eats delicious foods and then eats again...my favorite.  It can read and write and play some musical instruments.  I'll bet if I had it play more often it would play better.  It sweats when I'm hot and shivers when I'm cold and breathes even when I don't tell it to.  It sees, hears and loves beauty.  Sometimes it forgets, but sometimes it remembers. 

 So now, I love my body.  I want to be good to it because it has been good to me.  I know it will die sometime, and it's getting older.  But if it's getting tired and showing some wear and tear inside and out, so what?  If it's preparing for old age by storing fat in unattractive places that's okay.  It's been serving me for 52 years. God gave me a lovely gift and I need to be more thankful and use it to do good things.


 When Paul's Dad died I remember looking at his hands at his funeral.  I was overwhelmed with the thought of all the things his hands had been used to do. They loved and raised the little boy that became my husband and father to my children. They worked hard to support his family and truth be told, he helped us financially when Paul was getting his PhD.  They painted his car with a brush.  They took avacadoes to the neighbors and people at work.  They wrote letters to his children, and performed countless acts of service.  

Don Stoker (Paul's Dad) and Aaron

Our bodies are fantastic.