Gratitude for our bodies is something we frown upon in this country. It's odd. We are the most narcissistic people on Earth: Snapping selfies, wishing for thigh gaps, fishing for complements on today's outfit. But we are not supposed to appreciate ourselves, ourselves.
In 2004 I went on my first mission trip with the church. I was morbidly obese and horridly out of shape, but young enough to get by on grit and stubborn stupidity. At one point on a rainy afternoon (they were ALL rainy that year if I recall correctly) I stepped up about 18 inches onto the porch we were building. Because I wasn't strong enough to lift myself up with my arms, my mud-caked boot slipped along the porch and the other shin slammed right into the front edge, with all, oh, let's be honest, 260+ pounds of me right on top of it.
I won the 'Biggest Bruise' contest that year. I'm sure I cracked the surface of my tibia (you can still feel the callous on the front of the bone!), and bones just bleed and bleed....
It was a sentinal moment for me.
I'd already developed hypertension and was on medication. But denial is a funny thing. Sometimes it takes a good, solid CRACK to open your eyes. If my body was the Temple of the Holy Spirit, well, I'm surprised she was willing to hang out there at all. But Grace is like that. God isn't waiting for our bodies to be better temples. He's waiting for us to ask for help to become what he wants us to be.
I started getting in better shape.
This morning before work (I start at noon on Thursdays so don't get TOO impressed) I got up at five, walked three miles with the dogs, prepped a small bedroom for painting (cleaned out the closet, washed down the walls and woodwork following Hubby's patch-and-spackle repairs), and painted. Up and down the ladder, trimmed around all the bookshelves, up and down two flights of stairs, and .... done. Well, there's still the woodwork, but that is Satan's own part of painting, don't you think?
If I hadn't slipped...would I be in good enough shape to do this?