Quote of the Day:
Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I’d even lived one day.
– From Psalm 139, The Message Bible
Who likes feet? Some people are attracted to feet. Some are repelled. When I consider all my body parts, I don’t list my feet on the “they look pretty good” side. They’re really not that pretty. The size is fine, an 8, but I have hair on my big toe, and my baby toes are deformed. The pinky toe rests on the guy next to it who curls under the middle toe. You know the rhyme:
This little piggy went to market (that big one with the hair)
This little piggy stayed home (the normal looking one)
This little piggy had roast beef (middle guy)
This little piggy had none (the one hiding behind the roast beef eater)
This little piggy cried wee-wee-wee all the way home (because it had no muscle of its own and just lies on top of the hungry one)
I had a massage this week and the lovely spa people threw in a half price pedicure. I had one last summer, and it was time to file off the winter dry calluses on my heels. The massage was super. I told the gal that I liked the pressure firm to deep, but when she got to that sore and tense area between my shoulder blades, I had to tell her to ease up. She worked out some tight knots. There were times when I felt like the bread dough and her hands the rolling pin. I lift weights at a Group Power class at the YMCA, and I carry the weight of raising four boys and being single on my shoulders. She played ocean sounds while rubbing me down, and at times, her hands moved along my limbs with the sound of the waves. I’m a pianist, so I’ll tell ya, the forearm and hand massage was fabulous.
Then, on to the pedicure. I often ask the spa gals about feet and try to get a feel for what they like, or don’t, about their job. One sweet gal said, “I like doing pedicures because it helps people relax.” I pointed out my crooked toes to another one. She said, “It’s our imperfections that make us perfect. It’s who we are.” I thought that was profound. The young woman who rubbed my feet this week said, “Feet don’t bother me. I’d rather give a pedicure than get one. My feet are too ticklish.”
As you can see, I went with a wild purple polish this week. After all, I am a Minnesotan, and the Vikings are in the play-offs, and even though I’m not much of a football fan, I do live with four boys. One son is wearing a different Vikings shirt every day to school. At least, I think it’s a different one. He’s not above pulling an already-been-used one out of the dirty clothes pile!
We have a tendency to look at ourselves, often cringing, and criticise what we see as imperfect, aka ugly. Only the movie stars and super models are perfect, right? Or, are they? NO ONE is perfect. In fact, I think perfect is a dirty word. I’m trying to eliminate it from my vocabulary. We cannot be perfect in our actions, our bodies, our minds, our lives. We can only strive to do and be the best in any circumstance.
I rephrased a portion of that Psalm and wrote it on my mirror: You are beautifully and wonderfully made. – God
All of you – all your parts – lean or lumpy, hairy or smooth, tall or short, even or asymmetrical, are beautiful in their imperfections because they make you who you are.
A great book about body shapes is The Shape of Me and Other Stuff, by Dr. Seuss. To quote the end: Of all the shapes we MIGHT have been…I say “HOORAY for the shapes we’re in!”
Journaling Prompt: What makes you beautiful and unique?