Waterlogged

^{Photo by @christina.hills.images}

I’ve been thinking a lot about my health recently. The food I eat. My body. The stress I put on it. Our relationship.

In the midst of moving and renoing the house this summer, I was sitting in a doctor’s office. Waiting. Stressed about waiting and not working on all the things on the house to do list. Rather than sit and wait I wrote a poem. Now I’m a rambley writer so don’t expect me to be a skillful poet. But here it is:

My body said stop. I said you’re fine

My body said I’m hungry. I said you’re lying

My body said enough. I said one more bite

My body said this aches, time to move. I said 10 more minutes

My body said ouch. I said it’s good for you

My body said hear me. I said it’s all in my head.

Hear me. Listen.

My body said stop and I listen

My body said I’m hungry and I listen

My body said I need to move and I listen

My body said enough and I listen

My body said rest and I listen

I am learning to listen to my body. I’m learning that my body rarely lies. It’s always communicating something. I’ve thought that the crave for sugar was my body lying to me, but really it’s my brain misinterpreting the signal. I thought that my muscles burning was my body lying to me, but it was telling me it’s doing work. My my brain was the one that was telling me to quit. My body doesn’t lie. Maybe health isn’t eating perfect or running a 5k. Maybe health is listening to my body.

I wrote all of that in July. Have I been listening to my body since then? Nope.

I got a book out of the library with journaling prompts. The first page I flipped to is the only prompt I used. The basic concept was to write a letter to your condition. Here’s what I wrote:

Dear Body,

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I don’t hate how you look or your abilities. I hate your dysfunction. I’m over it. You don’t work. You are broken. It sucks. This sucks. I want normal. I was regulated. What the heck, body? Betrayer. I do what experts say and it makes no difference. I indulge. I restrict. It makes no difference. You are still not working as I would like to see it. Have I given you rest? no. Have I given you a reprieve from stress? no. Have I listened to you? barely. I feel like I’ve put in all this effort with no returns but maybe I haven’t been giving you the one thing you actually need. Rest. Maybe I haven’t been listening at all.

Awareness is the first step. That’s the correct phrase, right? I’ve been much more aware of my body in the past two months. I’ve noticed it talking and the more I listen the more I understand. Without doubt, I’m not good at this yet. Even today I ate a plate of nachos when what my body wanted was protein. Yesterday I sat in the same position long after my body wanted to readjust. I’m starting to listen but I’m not yet attending to the voiced concerns.

Two Bible verses stood out to me in September (stay with me. This does relate..in my mind at least)

The first story is in Luke 5:1-11. These men had bee fishing all night with no fish. Then Jesus shows up in the morning and tells them to put their nets back in. They tell him they’ve been doing this all night with no results but they oblige him anyways. When they go to pull the nets in they start to break they are so full of fish. Then the boat starts to sink it’s so full of fish. So the men get to shore, leave everything, and follow Jesus.

Now, I’ve noticed before that when it says “they left everything and followed him” in verse 11 that includes all the fish. As fishermen that amount of fish meant a lot of money. They left it all for Jesus. The part that stood out to me this time was that for the miracle to have impact, they had to go the whole night with no results. They had to work all night with no fish for Jesus to come and give them abundance. Not just some after none. Abundance after none. More than the boat could hold, a literal boatload of fish. More than their nets could handle. Yet all the blessing pales in comparison to Jesus.

The other story is about the woman who had been subject to bleeding (it’s in Matthew, Mark, and Luke). For twelve years she had spent all she had on doctors, yet no one could heal her. Jesus is on his way to heal a dying girl as a great crowd is following him. The woman is in the crowd and thinks “if I can touch His cloak I’ll be healed.” and it happens. She touches Jesus’ clothes and she is healed. Jesus says “who touched me?” and the disciples are like “you serious? we’re almost being mobbed by a crowd. Who hasn’t touched you?” but Jesus knows and he waits and the woman speaks. Then Jesus tells her “your faith has healed you. Go in peace”

I’ve heard it preached that due to Jewish law this woman would have been an outcast. Unclean. No one would want to touch her and become unclean themselves. She wouldn’t have be allowed in the temple, a place to meet God. Isolated. I had considered before that Jesus didn’t want the woman to have the healing without connection with Him so He called her out. He wanted to meet with her. What I hadn’t considered was that Jesus was telling her story in front the crowd by calling her out so they would know she was healed. No longer the outcast, now accepted into a community.

I feel these stories reflect my own in some way. A time of drought. A time of illness with no healing. A time of work with no results. Then Jesus comes by and gives healing in front of a community and abundant blessing. My eyes can’t see this part of the story yet. I’m not sure if I’m in it without seeing or if it is yet to come. I don’t know what’s going to happen but something is building.

I’m frustrated with my body but that doesn’t mean I have to be angry at God. For the longest time I thought they were connected. I couldn’t be displeased with my body without being displeased with God. I couldn’t be annoyed with my body without being annoyed with God. But I can be. I can be annoyed with my dysfunction even as I praise God. I can wish things were different while singing for joy.

I feel my body is a device that has a piece that wasn’t meant to go in water. The piece got wet and now the device is dysfunctional. That doesn’t mean that the One who made the device is to blame. The device was put in an environment it was never supposed to function in. I guess it’s kinda different because the Maker can step in whenever He wants and replace the broken piece. But maybe there is purpose or beauty in dysfunction. Or maybe the waterlogged piece isn’t the important part. Maybe I am expected to work towards goals that had far more value than superficial appearances and regular cycles.

Do I long for healing? yes.

Does that negate my relationship with God? Does it block our affection? Only when I value it more than our relationship. Only when I decide that a fully functioning body is more valuable than Jesus.

Jesus is more valuable than a boat full of fish. Jesus is more valuable than the healing. Jesus is more satisfying than a disease free body.

May I believe it to be true. May I act accordingly.