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I yearn for my flesh to be interconnected to me. To belong to me. May my authentic inside be reflected outside. DAR

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More than anything
I want to hug you tightly
and feel you hug back.

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You became flesh
You dwelt amongst us
You allowed yourself
To be touched
You felt human tears
On your own human face

And now I must learn
My flesh is my word too
My actions are my statements
And your incarnation
dwells in my flesh

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The tenderness of it, the touch.
The loss and the longing.
When the world is too much.

dm

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Oh, to have a hug
Before the one year mark
Of this pandemic

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Body spirit trap
Contains multitudes inside
Much more than skin deep.

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Forcing my mortal flesh to continue keeping silent

Hope waning while waiting to be witnessed

Unsure how else to be assured of existence

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Flesh freaks me out

Legacy of a long-forgotten trauma

But

if I carefully avoid noticing what I’m doing

I love to dance

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Torn             Repaired          Healing        

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Torn             Repaired          Healing        

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In fields delineated with poplar and cedar and hillocks, I stand still to let my belly stop, stop moving, let the breath catch up.

Now, aged 43, I  can hear that potato dust laced wind roar from my lungs ...

it is time to let the boreal whispers fade out the years where all I heard was that my body was not enough, when all she did wrong was take up space.

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Our bodies are
spirits in the world,
free and fragile.
Seeking touch, we reach out for reassurance.
Seeking hope, we lift up
in prayer,
spiritual sustenance.

~SJM

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Incarnational
Body and spirit are one
Holy and Precious

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I’ve touched live electrical lines and hardly remember them

One time - one finger’s touch - in one moment - probably unplanned - maybe not ‘best practice’ sticks with me

And I feel deeply for those who stay alone and untouched in service to the health of neighbors

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Composed - impassioned, purposeful - impulsive, now - tomorrow.
Flesh houses spirit, spirit tames flesh.
Warring worlds unified within.

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I am learning to be in my body again - gone so long I am now a visitor in my own home;
Despite my absence, She welcomes me with openness, healing, forgiveness, tenderness, rest, understanding, and a physical connection to all that is, was, and ever shall be;
Even though I have nothing to give Her in return.

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Sweaty. Stinky. Sensual. Strange.

I hold it in contempt

while divinity cries “holy!”

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The Divine Soul lives within
the flesh and blood
of my human body

CM

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the sticky note on the bathroom counter that says
"this body is a place of worship"
helps me see my flesh as holy and good

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Word made flesh, the very stuff of us,
hallowing what has always been holy
in all its frailty, full of grace and truth.

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Truth: I have to try hard not to hate my flesh.

I think I’m making progress.

But progress so far just means hating a little less or at least a little less often.

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while the spirit remains ethereal, the flesh is present, 

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while the spirit remains ethereal, the flesh is present, 

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a reminder of who we are today and might be tomorrow

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Mary died when we were deep into Lent
Ashes to ashes - literal, no way metaphorical
15 years later, the hollowness (hallowedness?) of the season and the memory of flesh touching flesh remain side by side

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My feet on the ground, feeling—through the earth’s crust—the rising and falling tides.

Breath—undoubtedly spirit—entering and exiting my lungs, circulating with my blood.

My conscious life, embodied and celebrated.

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Love transforms the beloved's flesh -
Bulges, veins, spots, scars, wrinkles,  hair,  and all -
Into a thing of most exquisite beauty

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The Word enfleshing
Gives us times of refreshing
And souls afreshing

WDRplus

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diaphragm, ribs, lungs
larynx, soft palate, nasal cavity
brain, heart, spirit, SOUND

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Flesh’s pores breath life
Protect from harm
Yet when hurt, mend.
Flesh and Spirit embrace
Until released into eternity.

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Ephesians 2:3 In contexts like this, the Greek word for flesh (sarx) refers to the sinful state of human beings, often presented as a power in opposition to the Spirit.

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Ephesians 2:3 In contexts like this, the Greek word for flesh (sarx) refers to the sinful state of human beings, often presented as a power in opposition to the Spirit.

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My flesh, my sin, my weakness, my dependence...
praise God for Baptism; praise God for diets.
(Praise God that Zoom focuses on our upper parts!)

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spirit infused flesh
with each cell a universe
pulsating delight

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My ample belly, an embarrassment
consequence of my love of sweet things
I remember now and then that it is the consequence of love and sigh

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Flesh breaks, bones snap, knives cut, babies rip

Sensations of sheer joy and pure terror bound in these cells

Christ, our wounded healer makes it all holy and whole

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The Word became flesh affirming my abused flesh is still fresh.

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My body survived your contempt

to become an anthology of elation

written in flesh.

Look me in the eye and tell me

why you think I deserve to feel

ashamed

of a body this

fiercely triumphant.

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Frequent thoughts of my skin is saggy here, cracked there
Winter blues has my heart sagging
Tears drying out my face

Purposeful thoughts to name and sit with my pain.
I reframe.
My flesh is strong and loved
My heart is strong and loves

My body is a miracle and she carries me through

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Bodies contain life
All colors shapes and sizes
Bring humanity

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my flesh is now fat
i am okay with the new
more to love, i laugh

- kjm

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i am not ashamed
or at least I want to love my flesh
if nothing else, it holds me
and that is enough

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To be in the body, my body;
To love the wounded, gifted flesh of self and others;
This is my soul's longing and belief.
HilaryC

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flesh sings, breathes, cries, dies
flesh needs, longs, aches, delights
flesh weaves me to you to we

-akb

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I gentle pull down my child’s ear love and run a healing balm in the crevice where flesh meets bone, a spot made rough by nearly a year of mask-wearing.

How do we protect one another?

This love is made real in the tender folds of a child’s broken skin.

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They say my flesh is more flawed than others’. That I cannot love, run or dance.

Nevertheless, nowadays, I look in the mirror and like what I see. If my very existence is defiance, so be it.

I say a silent prayer each time: to join the two sides and find as much contentment with my spiritual life.

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During my angiogram, the line was put in my groin artery and threaded through my arteries into my brain to a minuscule vessel behind my eye. Did the surgeon get a glimpse of my soul and my relationship to my Lord? No, he just saw my flesh and all that is in my flesh. My soul is for God alone to see and know.

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