My mom said something to me today that I had heard before, but gave me pause today. "You don't get older on the inside," she said to me. What an interesting concept. Apparently, from the moment we are born our bodies rapidly change, beginning their decent into death. All the while our spirits, our souls, our conciousnesses come to a halt at about 30? Maybe 35. I must admit this sounds true. As 33 looms alarmingly close - I'm an August baby you know? I can't say that I feel a day over 27. Like my father, I think I might hang out here for the next 50 years.

The idea that one maintains the conciousness of the youthful version of themselves speaks to the fact that these bodies were are encased in are not the ultimate iteration of who we are. They are not our highest manifestation. It's interesting that we place so much emphasis on them as individuals and as a society - Perhaps because it's the only reality we know. The people with the pretty faces, and the pretty bodies get the red carpet treatment. Flowing hair, might get a woman a husband faster, while white skin in many cases will speed you to the front of the line. Though in this realm we are relegated to exsist in bodies, they are not the whole of who we are. In fact, they are so minute a part of who we are, that they are constantly transitioning from one state to the next. My 30's have brought on a slight gut whose name I do not know and don't care to. I'm serving it an eviction notice as soon as I can get out of Jackson.

Still there are the things we cannot change. Our knees get creaky, our hair falls out, sometimes sickness even comes to meddle in the happy little life our 27 year conciousnesses thought would last forever. Some bodies even have the audacity to give up prematurely and die!
But the beautiful things is that like us Christ has a body too. And one of the things that he showed us in his amazing sacrifice is that the body, no matter how beautiful, broken, or brusised is not the end of the story. He was a the very essence of God in flesh--embodied. We are the breath of God... embodied, simply a method to carry out love, work, and worship.

Somehow, like we as humans usually do, we got it all twisted up and bought the lie that this worldly and bodily reality is the only one we would ever know. Society had determined what color, shape and abilitities of bodies are of value and which ones are not. Forget what lies inside. So the round girls, and the black boys, and the blind adults, and the aging former beauties are no longer counted as worth much, while the very image of God slowly wilts for lack of nourishment.

What will it take for us to experience each other and ourselves spirit to spirit, heart to heart, soul to soul? When will we recongnize this is just a stop on our eternal journey and that who we are dwells deeply encased in these bodies that will infact pass away. What will happen when we do?