On this third Thankful Thursday, I come to that penultimate line in the Apostles’ Creed: “the resurrection of the body”. Yes, I have been thankful for that truth this year, but explaining why requires me to talk about my body, and that is not something I normally discuss. Obviously, I do not want to draw undue attention to the form in which God chose for me to pass through this life. Yet, my body is a part of who I am, and in order to explain why I am thankful, I must first explain what I have suffered.
I never really cared for my body as a young person. Don’t get me wrong—I had no deep and abiding hatred of my pancreas. There wasn’t something about my lungs that displeased me. Rather, it was all about externals: my nose was too big, or my skin had too many blemishes, or my hair wasn’t full enough. I knew that I wasn’t the prettiest girl in the school. People rarely tell you these things, but you figure them out on your own. I had no confidence in my appearance whatsoever.
Then as I grew older, I found other reasons to dislike my body. As a teenager, I was diagnosed with scoliosis: a crooked spine. Not only that, but my left leg was shorter than my right leg and my feet were flat. Soon I was fitted for special shoes and required to do special exercises. There was some debate over whether I would need spinal surgery, but fortunately I was spared that. I managed to go through life with scoliosis without anyone being the wiser. It still gives me recurring back pain, and I wear a lift in my left shoe on account of the leg length difference, but apart from limiting my choices in footwear, these bodily flaws have not been too serious. Continue reading