It's Not Mine, Anyway

Whenever my body doesn't do what it's supposed to do, whenever something's wrong, it hurts in deeper places. My heart aches and among the things I say and do, I blame myself. As though I could somehow control the inner workings of an earthly vessel I can't begin to understand. As though it were my fault things aren't working right. And I hate myself.

I know I'm not the only one, living in a body that isn't "normal." I know others walk this road too. Others know the prying questions that underneath their semantics all ring the same, What's wrong with you? If we were honest, we'd all admit something's wrong. Just some things are easier to perceive than others.

I so easily forget, when I list what's wrong with me, that this shell in which I live, it isn't mine. It's just a rental, a temporary dwelling my soul calls home. And one day, I'll hear the One on the throne say, "Behold, I am making all things new." And that will apply to me too. Lord, I can't wait to get that new body. I can't wait for Him to take all the former things and make them new.

But for now, this is the shell for which I care. And though I may be disappointed in it, what do I gain through my anger and hatred? What will I change by cutting down the image in the mirror? What will I accomplish through my disdain other than more pain? And though this shell isn't mine forever, I know I need to care for her.

I pray for strong arms, to carry others when they are weak. I pray for kind lips that know when to speak. I pray for open hands, to give and to receive. I pray for beautiful feet that bring good news and follow willingly after the Lord. I pray for clear eyes, to see not merely earthly vessels, but the souls they contain. I pray for open ears that know how to distinguish the voice of my Lord from the voices of the world.

I pray that I know how to use this vessel for all that God has ordained. It's not mine, anyway.