The Paradox Paper #36
Well hey!
I am writing this a few days before you are reading it, from my friend Karen’s kitchen table in Opi, Nigeria. A few kids and an Auntie are on the porch, having brought back the volleyball after the afternoon match. My bags are packed. Tomorrow we start the two day journey home.
To say it has been sweet to hold hands, sing songs, play games, tease, and scold these children whom I’ve heard about over the last eight years would be a gross understatement. I have fussed at them to stop pulling my hair, and they have mocked my Minnie Mouse white lady voice. Sharing Scripture and prayer together has been a glimpse of the coming Kingdom of God.
Just as “sweet,” and “joyful” are insufficient words, “thank you” feels much the same. I’ll use it anyway, since it is the only one I have. It is your gracious generosity and faithful prayer that allowed me to spend six days at A Place Of Hope children’s home. Thank you.
Here are some photos, because these some cuties.
Welcome to The Paradox Paper, a monthly newsletter that honors the everyday paradox of a life with Jesus. If a friend forwarded you this email, click here to subscribe:
In this edition:
A book for improving our prayerful conversation skills
A literary mystery that made me break my “no bad kid stuff” rule
An album that takes me back to the good ol’ days
A sermon for our bodies
A prayer to keep our hearts from idols
Hearing God, Dallas Willard
This subtitle is “Developing Conversational Relationship with God,” and that is the perfect descriptor. This is my first time reading Dallas Willard and his work is just as humble and rich as I’ve heard. I am reading slowly, giving each chapter time to absorb and work it’s way into daily practice before continuing, and the way I pray—even the way I think about and include God in my daily life—is changing for the better.
The God of the Woods, Liz Moore
Louise wakes up one morning at Camp Emerson to find that one of her campers is missing. And not just any camper. Barbara Van Laar, the camp owners’ only child. Worse, she’s not the first kid to go missing on the Van Laar preserve. The search for Barbara reopens the case of her older brother Bear. What has happened to the Van Laar children, and will the family—and the town—ever recover? Normally I stay far away from anything with a missing child plot, and I must admit there were a few moments I almost put it down for good, but Moore’s writing is so intricate and her characters so developed, I had to keep turning the pages. Despite some heartbreaking moments, I’m glad I finished and I closed the book believing that the characters I cared most about were going to be just fine.
Shane & Shane Vintage Album
Well folks, the songs that were new and fresh when I was becoming aware of music in the early 2000s are now vintage. Praise God. But for real, this album is precious.
We had finally touched down on American soil after over thirty hours of travel. My friend wanted one last group selfie, but I was so exhausted I hardly turned my head to look at the camera. Seeing the image of my profile she exclaimed, “You have a such a sharp jaw line! I’m almost jealous!”
For as long as I can remember women have been telling me—in tones ranging from bitter to begrudging—all the parts of me they envy.
You’re so skinny, you can just wear anything!
Ugh, I hate you Steph! You're stomach is so flat I can see your hip bones.
Of course you can eat whatever you want at the holidays looking like that!
Since childhood, my friendships with other women have been affected in varying degrees by this arbitrary set of physical characteristics I did not choose and can’t control. The fact that those characteristics are almost entirely due to genetics does not ease the tension.
But that’s a lot to bring up over an off-handed comment through a haze of jet lag, so I just shrugged and said “It’s in the blood,” the tension welling up from a thousand similar comments dying in my throat.
It’s not my thin frame, or even others’ commentary on it, that bothers me so much. It’s not the ever-shifting cultural definitions of beauty and desirability that keep women in the self-defeating cycle of comparison and competition. No, what sours the air between me and every person who has ever spoken their insecurities as truth, is the question of value.
Underneath every comment like this is the belief that the shape or strength of a body determines its value. This is not just a matter of preference—your body looks or functions the way I would prefer mine to look or function. It’s a bad theology of the worth of every human body.
Even as they carry the weight of sin and experience brokenness and disease, our bodies are good. They are not more good when they conform to cultural standards of beauty and function. Certain shapes or levels of functionality are not more good than others. Sin, ignorance, poor self care, poverty, disease, neglect, and any other brand of brokenness may harm or inhibit our bodies, but their goodness cannot be destroyed because it is established by God. Our bodies are good because their Creator names them so. Our misguided efforts to redefine that goodness or find it in lesser sources cannot altar the original and final intent of the One who is goodness. Our bodies are good because they are from Him and for Him.
In evangelical circles we have perhaps put so much (rightful) emphasis on the saving of souls that we have forgotten how to preach the gospel over our bodies. Jesus of Nazareth accomplished His saving work in a body, for our bodies. This is why what we do with, in, and for our bodies matters! How we speak about our bodies (and others’ bodies) matters. How we look at bodies matters. They are good gifts from a good God who has given us freely all things to enjoy in our bodies, until the day when He finally makes all things new, including our bodies.
My jaw is good, but not because it marks a defined line between my face and my neck. It is good for the same reason yours is good. It allows me to speak words of life, to giggle with my children, to sing songs of hope, and to eat good food. Praise God.
My belly is good, but not because it fits inside a waistband of a certain size. It is good for the same reason yours is good. It has ached with laughter, tensed in danger, softened with love. Praise God.
My body is good because it is the one my good Father gave me, which allows me to experience more of His goodness in the world. It is the one Jesus redeemed in His death, the one He will raise to life and restore on that last day. It is the one where the Spirit chooses to dwell in the meantime. It is a good body.
So—even when I do not believe it—I will speak of it as such. I will care for it as such. And in this world where bodies are commodities—“assets” with varying degrees of value—I will preach the gospel. Salvation in none but Jesus, for all creation, body and soul. Praise God.
Hold the paradox. Don’t panic. See you next month!
-Steph
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