I have been thinking about my body lately. I came across this concept of forgiving my body. Why not? Seems reasonable, we forgive others for things they do wrong, so why not our own frail bodies that fall apart for no apparent reason or have unknown ailments that doctors cannot figure out, we forgive those who trespass against us for their unknown mood swing and actions, so why can’t I give that same respect to my body.
Forgiveness is a gift. I received this gift many years ago when Jesus gave it to me. Why can’t I give myself the same gift?

Here is what I am mad at myself for. I am angry at my throat. Especially the area around my voice box where it has scar tissue growing and causes me to not be able to breathe. That makes me feel inadequate in doing anything physical. When I want to, my hearts dream is to run, ride a bike, go for a long distant walk, or simply walk beside someone in the store would be an amazing gift to me. I am angry that I cannot do that. I am angry about my swollen face. Swollen from the Prednisone and other treatments that I have to take in order to combat the inflammation and granulations in my body, which makes it difficult for me to lose weight and I can gain 30 pounds in between two days and lose it in two days. Makes my dream of weight loss a challenge, not to also mention my blood sugars go up and down no matter what I stick in my mouth. I am angry that my right foot is numb and I cannot bend it at all. I swell in my feet and my legs look like giant tree stumps. I am angry that my veins explode whenever an IV catheter goes in. I have had this happen to me more than once and the healing process is a pain. I hate feeling like a pin cushion every time I have to go to the doctor or be admitted into the hospital. I am angry that my hair does not grow or get thick like it used to or like other women around me. I angry with my big fat belly where all the weight seems to pile on and makes me feel like a giant waterbed. I am angry that I have to have a stoma in my throat in order for me to have the surgery to keep me breathing. I am angry that I cannot smell or taste. I am angry with my heart, which seems to be palpitating and having me go the Heart specialist. Can you say I have a lot of angry issues towards my body?
What I love about my body? I love that even though I have to have my hair short, when I wake up I do not have to do anything to make it stand up and frame my face. It does it naturally. I love that I can still feel, touch, soft furry Nicholas, my soft blanket, or even my stuffed lamb when I need to be comforted. I love that my feet can fit into my soft furry socks on cold nights. I love that I can still see things that are beautiful around me and read books, hear wonderful birds, Nicholas talking to me, my friends and families’ voices, music, movies, and the doorbell. I love that every now and again I have energy to create. I love that my brain is active and I can still learn. I love that my body is mine. I love that I am dealing with the emotional implications of a failing body and that I am willing to seek out those who are smarter and know more than I do to guide me through this.

To my body, I forgive you. I love you, just like God loves you. You are forgiven for attacking my throat and other body parts. Together we will fight this thing and figure out what best actions to take on this journey. Keep breathing throat, keep beating heart, and keep walking legs… I love you!

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