Does the body image thing ever get better?

Thigh gaps.

Dr. Oz.

Fat-shaming.

BMI.

Magazines.

Runway models.

Swimsuit season.

Stretch marks.

I'm almost 50, and the whole body image thing is still an issue. I weigh more now than I ever have in my life. I'm a bit less active (arthritis keeps me from really pounding the pavement), post-menopause, and on medication that tends to make one gain weight.

I hate it.

I hate looking in the mirror and seeing what I see. I hate stepping on the scale. I hate that clothes that fit a couple of months ago don't fit now. I hate that I hate all this.

Does it ever get better?

I tell myself that I'm good enough. I am pretty. I'm smart. I'm attractive. The clothes I wear are beautiful, and fit me well.

And it's still not enough.

When will I allow myself to be happy with who I am, physically? When will that message sink in? How do we keep our daughters, our sisters, our friends from this kind of thinking? (I know I would never say to a friend or family member the sort of things I allow myself to say to the mirror.)

I imagine myself 15 years from now. Will I allow my hair to go gray? Will I finally throw away the Spanx? Will I go for days without touching my makeup drawer?

Our bodies change. Women's bodies are particularly amazing, given the power we have to create life, carry a child, give birth. But that means a lot of stress on our bodies. We age. We struggle with illness. We should be fine with that. I should be fine with that.

But I'm not. Harumph.

Update: This is what I'm talking about: size 000 at the LA Times.

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Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

Crossing Guard

I saw you
today
as you guided
your little man across that busy street.

You were wearing some
big man boots
and
watching cars and lights.

Your little man had on
black sneakers and
a Mickey Mouse hat
that bounced
as he walked.

He wasn't watching nothing but
your big man boots
and
the white stripes of the crosswalk.

Just before
he got to the sidewalk again,
his step bounced a bit
- he hopped over
a spot where the asphalt broke.

You turned to look,
holding out a hand to
your little man.
Not rushed or angry,
just making sure
he got up
on that sidewalk.

Then you walked on,
in your big man boots,
face into a cold Michigan wind,
with the little man behind,
his hat bouncing.

Be Transfigured

From today's readings:

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the and his clothes became white as light.

...we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it as to a lamp shining in a dark place until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.

Today we celebrate the Transfiguration. For whatever reason, Jesus brought three of His disciples to Mount Tabor to witness this miracle. They weren't sure what they were seeing, but they knew enough to throw themselves to the ground in the presence of Almighty God. St. Peter (who never did anything halfway) excitedly declares that he will erect tents on the mountain as a way of memorializing the event. But Jesus tells him and the others that they are not to tell people what they witnessed - at least not yet.

In the second reading, the requirement to be quiet has bee…

Kissing the Leper

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