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Showing posts from July, 2018

sour.

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On Sunday I preached  about the crowds pressing in.  All the bodies. All the stories incarnate.  They are sweaty and pleading.  Weeping and bleeding. 
One woman is drained of her power and life.  But when she touches his cloak,  everything changes. 
Jesus stops. He turns to see  who received his own power and life.  They are connected.  There is healing in that.
I woke this morning and stopped to see  my own body.  To recognize her life and power.  To grieve the ways  some seek to grab or limit  her story incarnate. 
I wept for all the women drained of their life and power.  Who have spent all they have  and are no better off.  Who are desperate and faithful reaching out to be made whole.
And then I dressed  my beautiful curves with the sour fruit. 
They can call my womb a preexisting condition  my mystery a liability  my shape in need of legislation  but I will keep adding sugar.
Because there is One who stops  who turns to see  who gives away his own life and power  to heal those o…