Devotion 9/23/2021 – Pastor Dianne Loufman

I wouldn’t have said I take pride in my athleticism because I am not and never have been an athlete—just someone who tries to stay physically active and physically fit.  I learned, however, something new about myself when I fell down a mountain trail in Iceland.  After getting stitched up and slowing down for a day, my sister and I kept moving, albeit at a slower pace.  My sister joked that it took a concussion and injured leg for me to walk at her speed.  Not only did I walk at a much slower pace, but I had to hold my sister’s hand at times or put my hand on her shoulder as we negotiated my new arch-enemies: rocks, gravel and steep inclines.

This was hard for me—the dependence, the physical limitation, the people hiking quickly up and down and around us.  I wanted to defend my slow pace: “Hey, if you only knew:  I’m doing this with a concussion, balance issues, stitches in my head and back, and a really messed up leg.”  In talking with a couple of young guys in line at the airport on the way back to the U.S., I shared what had happened.  The bigger of the two looked at his smaller camping buddy and said, “And you thought you had it bad, complaining about hiking 10 miles.”  I thought, “That’s better.”

This was all a self-revelation to me.  I thought my identity in Christ was a little more secure than that—what do I care what complete strangers think of my slow-dependent-upon-my-sister pace?  And of course, I really don’t care what they thought but it was the realization that I had a really hard time not being able to do what I am usually so capable of doing. I realized that my identity is caught up more in my physical abilities than I care to admit.  And of course, some people are born with limited physical capacities; some people lose them in a flash as I easily could have; and all of us lose them if we are lucky enough to live to be an elder in the community.

So, I think the better saying for me is:  the actual fall revealed the pride I didn’t know I had.  And the physical limitations deepened once again my appreciation for all those who work to make peace with their embodied realities and the way those change throughout our lives.  When we lose abilities we once had, it’s not just about our bodies, but about how we think about ourselves and how we think about life and its meaning.  We are thrown back once again on our given identity in Christ because nothing can take that away from us.  Regardless of our capacities, all of us are equal before God.  Holding onto that is sometimes enough to make my concussed head ache!

Breath of God, hold us together when our bodies are falling apart.  Secure us in the identity we have in you so that when other things are stripped away, we are still able to stand strong in You.  Amen.