I belong to the church of the physically fit. Members do marathon mudders. They sprint up stairs. They are at peace with their lean to fat ratio because they have nothing to put in the denominator. They run. They jump. They bench press twice their weight. And they look good in spandex.
In my day, spandex was tights which, unless they were anchored in place by a leotard, succumbed to gravity pretty quickly. School girls suffered until bathroom breaks allowed them to hitch those buggers back up. By 3:00 P.M., my tights had settled into Shar-Pei like wrinkles down my skinny legs and I was walking funny. After a few years of this, I switched to knee socks for school, reserving the troublesome tights for dance class.
Eventually even dance tights changed. I’m not sure when the modern dance movers and shakers decided to take the feet out of their tights, but by the late 1960s, I was dancing barefoot. I can only assume that this bit of brilliance eventually evolved into the leggings that most of the church ladies wear. Truth be told, I even own a pair. I ordered them in a spirit of rebellion. To heck with arthritis and tendonitis! I’d wear my leggings as a proclamation of life, or tribute to freedom, or to who I used to be- but I’d be sure to wear a long tunic top. . . with freedom comes responsibility. Until I ordered the leggings, I hadn’t realized how closely I associated life with movement. “Moving slowly these days, Deb? You must have less life.”
Really?
Life does not consist of the things I can do. That list has become embarrassingly short. Life comes from God. The person sitting in a wheelchair at the back of the church might just be the most “alive” person there- deceptively quiet on the outside, but bursting with life on the inside, his “spiritual stem cells” multiplying lickety-split, connecting him to his Creator in all kinds of wild and crazy ways. Who’d have guessed it?
Jesus promises us life. He told the Samaritan woman that whoever drank of the water that He gave would never thirst, but that it would “become. . . a well of water springing up to eternal life.” (John 3:14) There is apparently no shortage of life. We just need to know where to find it.
This is one of the most delightfully funny and honest reflections about how we live now–focused on what we do, how we move, how good we look when we move. I love the picture of the old person at the back of the church vibrating with energy from the Lord. Alive with the hope that this life doesn’t define him but the next one frees him. Thanks for this beautiful and hysterical and honest look at life. AWESOME!!!
Ah! Your tights were always too long too, weren’t they? As always thank you for the encouragement.