Brought to Life

I’m sitting here in a mediocre café, drinking a mediocre hot cocoa. My review books are splayed out in front of me, and I’m pleased to say I’ve covered another lecture section since arriving. I sensed a bit of a hunger pang prior to walking in, and the only savory food they had was a gigantic slice of quiche.

I ate it all.

I was hungry, and now I am full. Mainly, I’m annoyed that the hot cocoa is not of better quality.

I’ve been walking with women who are battling remnants of eating disorders and body image issues which have severely impacted the ability to allow joy to transform this area of our lives. It’s a war waged between self-love and self-loathing, and, for the fortunate few, we have allowed others into this vulnerable place. The funny thing is, I don’t know one woman who hasn’t experienced some torment in their quest for physical identity. Severity is relative; the heart of the struggle remains the same.

Every woman. United.

My heart has been breaking for these women. It’s opened my eyes to the depth of sensitivity we are given, and how much care we need to take in cultivating our strengths, identity, and beauty. One harrowing incident left to fester can rot the whole body. Literally and figuratively. If we cannot turn to one another, and we are all experiencing the same relational pain, then we are surely an ill-equipped body.

The pain of separation has to be blasted through with grace, and with the knowledge that we are all broken. We can rejoice and be comforted in our brokenness, because it is shared. Our burden was not meant to be shouldered alone.

Give grace, because you have been given grace.

It’s made the Gospel come alive.