Bigger Than My Body

We humans tend to get stuck on a few viewpoints that aren't necessarily right.

For example, we tend to define people by their bodies: "I'm fat."  "He's ugly."  "She's cute," "He's tall," "She's short," and so on.

Yesterday, I attended the funeral of little Abe and I was amazed and inspired by his parents' testimonies and stories that they shared.  This past week has been pretty emotional for me.  I've been constantly thinking of the Brewers, and of course there are constant reminders of what our family went through with my little nephew Alma only a few short months ago, and after the viewing last night, Steve and I went out to the car and just sat and sobbed and sobbed.

Any loss is hard, but when it's a baby--it's especially hard in those situations, but oh, how grateful I am for truth that heals during these hard times.

Today, during his remarks, Abe's dad, Jon, made an interesting comment that I was struck by.  He was talking about being at the hospital when Abe's body was brought in, and he said, "They brought his body in--he wasn't in it anymore, I could see that immediately--" and then he continued on to tell of how he had felt the joy of his son's spirit testifying to him that his mission on earth was over and he had gone to be with God again.  

Reading my sister-in-law's experience and then recalling other experiences where I have felt incredibly close to those who have already passed through the veil has had me thinking.  We are more than our bodies.  We are eternal in nature--created by an Eternal Being for an Eternal purpose, and for us to limit ourselves and others by what we seem to be on the outside is an injustice for everyone involved.

Have you ever had an experience where you meet someone in person after having already seen pictures of that person?

Have you ever been noticeably surprised by how much better-looking they are in person?

I've had that experience a few times lately--I had the opportunity to see in person a friend that I kept in touch with only through the good ol' Internet lately, and I was genuinely amazed by how beautiful she was in person.  I had recently seen pictures of her, and when looking at her pictures, I remember being a little bit unimpressed by them.  Nice-looking girl, and all that, but definitely not what you would call gorgeous.... I even remember having the thought, "Wow--I remember her being much prettier when I knew her!  Hmm!"  and then I wrote the effect off to old age and motherhood and all the effects that grown-upness and stress can have on a person's appearance, and thought nothing of it.

But then she waltzed into my front room a couple of weeks later, and I gasped in amazement by the sparkle and personality she brought into my home.  She was truly incredible, and even though I only got to converse with her for what seemed like a few minutes, I was blown away by her beauty.  The twinkle in her eyes, the way her hair bounced just so as she moved, the goodness that seemed to radiate from her face like a light--these were things that no camera could ever capture completely.  

Since then, I've noticed that there's a reason why I'm never fully satisfied by any picture I see of myself.  It's because those pictures, as wonderful as some of them may be, aren't who I am.  

I am not my hair, any more than I am my stretch marks, my height, or my nose.  These things may help define how I look, but they are not ME.  I am happy, I am smart, I am fun, I am beautiful, and I am good--and although my body is an incredible gift and I try to be truly grateful for it on a regular basis, I am realizing that my body is simply a tool to help me find who I truly am.  Nothing more, nothing less.
Just something to think about, I guess.