Yesterday the invitation to the BUGB Women in Ministry day arrived, and it's title is "Made in God's Image." Nuking side-effects permitting, I am intending to attend the day when it takes place in May, and am looking forward to catching up with colleagues and friends 'south of the border' and in what is, arguably, a slightly more enlightened union. :-)
At various times I have pondered what it means to be made in God's image, beyond gender, beyond race, beyond status, and yet, mysteriously and particularly, as we are. I am very fond of the line from the Brian Wren hymn that says God's 'living likeness still we bear, though marred, dishonoured, disobeyed.'
Lots of work has been done - and rightly - to affirm that people with physical or developmental disabilities bear God's image. Lots of work has been done - and rightly - to affirm that people with physical or mental illness or injury bear God's image. Some work has been done - and rightly - to affirm that older people whose bodies and minds may be worn or frail bear God's image.
I think I am fortunate that I never really equated my worth with my physical appearance, but seeing the title of the day did give me pause for thought. Each morning as I look in the mirror I see the scars from my surgery. If it is cold or damp my scars ache. When I reach out my 'affected' arm the muscles 'tug' a little. Even now as my hair regrows, eyelashes and eyebrows begin to reappear, they are no longer the 'givens' they once were. I swallow the pills that will minimise the risk of recurrence but can no longer simply assume an 'average' life expectancy... This body, now scarred, now sore, now vulnerable, now obviously damaged... this body bears the image of God.
For a long time I was fascinated by the idea of Jesus' post resurrection hands - scarred hands, hands riven with holes, hands that reach out to touch and heal 'this side' of Calvary. If it is good enough for God to have scars, aches, wounds, damage, then how much more so we, God's creatures?
I am made in the image and likeness of God - scars 'n' all. And so are you.
(This photo is about 2 weeks old - I have more hair now!)
Comments
"For a long time I was fascinated by the idea of Jesus' post resurrection hands - scarred hands, hands riven with holes, hands that reach out to touch and heal 'this side' of Calvary. If it is good enough for God to have scars, aches, wounds, damage, then how much more so we, God's creatures?"
Lovely, deep post. I loved it, and love your acceptance of the illness.
Anita
Apologies in advance for the lack of a personal name. I promised my husband no names out on the web when I started my blog. I hope that's OK.
I loved your post and just wanted to say that the scars will heal and fade and ease with time, though they never disappear. Having had breast cancer twice in the past 13 years, I can empathise very much with the need to adapt to a changed appearance and also with the new uncertainty about life. But life is still good and to be enjoyed and reverenced.
Hi "Perpetua" (is it OK to call you that?). A bit of ID masking is fine and is often wise.
I am sorry you'ver had to face this disease twice and hope you are now NED. As you rightly note, life is still good - I hope it didn't come across as if I thought otherwise. I know some women become quite proud of their scars as signs of 'victory' though I'm not sure that's the way my mind works, or what it says to those who are never trully NED. For me they are signs of life lived honestly and 'in its fullness.'
Perpetua is a great idea :-) I must use it elsewhere.
Yes, I'm NED thanks, though very aware that I can't be called completely cured. Breast cancer just doesn't work like that, my second breast surgeon told me. I certainly don't think your post came across as saying that life isn't good. What I wrote was just meant as encouragement on the road through treatment, which can be quite hard going at times.
Good luck with the radiotherapy. Make sure you drink lots of water (the best tip i was given) and get as much rest as you can. It can be very tiring.