For the past 8 days I've heard the word "body" in more contexts then I knew possible. My dad teased, "Your body is just falling apart," after I'd commented, "Gosh, my body just hurts everywhere." This was in response to my little accident in the river and the subsequent injuries and what-not caused by said accident. At church we took communion, hearing, "This is my body, broken for you," a phrase still drives me to my knees in humility and gratitude. Since Hungry announced that we're becoming a church plant, over and over I've heard, and said, that the church isn't a building but a body, a group of people living life together. Awesome, and how grateful I am to be part of that.
And I've seen, more then ever, how these three bodies all fit together. My body isn't right, so I have surgery tomorrow to fix it. Yet my pain is minimal compared to that which Jesus suffered for my sake. His pain, both physical and mental, was anguish, and I don't know anguish...I just know pain. And he bore it all willingly so that eventually all the pain that I feel will end. His body was broken so that my broken body, and soul, might heal.
And through His brokenness a new thing started, this thing called the Body, the church--a group of people living life together...one that isn't perfect and screws up all the time, but will continue to be driven by love for Him and one another. I've seen this body at work at a time when I needed it. Through emails and phone calls and gentle hugs and kind words, the Body has loved on me and reminded me that I am not forgotten.
So I say thank you to my friends who have so graciously and even sacrificially loved me through the shadows and the deep valleys. I love ya'll and am so so thankful for you. And now we're on this new adventure with Hungry that I pray will only allow us to know and love each other more as we seek out the face of our Lord, for His name's sake.