memories

I am a firm believer that the body remembers. The body is a living thing with a heart, a soul, and a mind. It experiences each day with us, and it encompasses every action. It motivates many actions (hello COVID weight), it sustains actions, and it stops actions. I believe the body remembers each and every one of those. Some memories may go to the “unnecessary” department, some may go to the “warm and fuzzy department,” and some may even go to the “never let go of” department. Hang with me, I know this sounds like I am re-writing Inside Out (definitely one of my favorite movies).

Most importantly, there is a “protect” department. Obviously, this is not science-backed, it is simply my-experience-backed. When we approach seasons where something hard happened, it triggers the “protect” department of the body, and the body will respond accordingly. Well, at least mine will.

Lately, I have noticed more consuming, lingering thoughts, and more of a need to put up my wall. I feel a reminder to protect myself. This season, two years ago, was when my body decided it needed to protect.

“But if God himself has taken up residence in your life, you can hardly be thinking more of yourself than of him . . . But for you who welcome him, in whom he dwells . . . you yourself experience life on God’s terms . . . When God lives and breathes in you (and he does, as surely as he did in Jesus), you are delivered from that dead life. With his Spirit living in you, your body will be as alive as Christ’s!”

- Romans 8:9-11 MSG

This season, right now, is not two years ago.

My body is not simply my body- it is a temple of the Lord. The Holy Spirit “dwells” within me. His power, his protection, and his purification is literally inside my body. His breath, is my breath. His power, is my power. Christ fills my body head to toe. This body, which remembers the hard moments, the happy moments, the dull moments in between, is flooded with my living God. My God remembers, too, and my God protects. My body doesn’t have to fall back into the fear of what will or could happen because protection is no longer it’s job, and thank goodness it isn’t.

God does more than protect, he makes new. Many of us know the “new creation” language from 2 Corinthians, but when our body begins to enter a season where trauma once occurred, we forget. Two years ago was two years ago. Every. single. day. right. now. Christ is making me new.

He has used everything before, then, and now to re-mold me over and over and over again.

Our purpose, as believers, in life, as I often need reminding, is to share that powerful God with the world. Two years ago, my scope to reach was widened as my story became even richer with Christ’s steadfastness. I remember that moment when my chin lifted, and I stood. When my body begins to remember the hurt, it will remember the purpose.