Getting kicked out of the Garden of Eden is a huge bummer. We just keep feeling the effects generation after generation. We feel shame about stuff that is totally natural and ordinary and parade stuff around that we ought to have a little healthy shame about.
Do you know what we’re proud about? Our bodies. When Adam and Eve first experienced the effects of sin, they learned they were naked. They ran and hid because the only thing worse that accidentally stuffing your skirt into the back of your underwear after using the bathroom at church has got to be running into God while naked. I can’t even read the Bible on the toilet because of how deeply I feel this reality. I also can’t use the toilet during a thunderstorm on the off-chance I’d be struck by lightening and the EMTs would have to remove my charred, half-naked body from the toilet. I fear post-death humiliations almost as much as the regular kind of humiliation. But I digress. So anyway, Adam and Eve got the idea pretty quickly that there’s something about nudity we need to avoid. And we’ve been testing those boundaries ever since. And now not only do the patrons at the local pool get to see how you look in your new swimsuit, but so do your thousand social media followers as you pass that photo around. Dear Teenagers, stop doing that. Sincerely, Me.
We talk about fierce new outfits. We spend half our grocery budget on a skirt and when somebody compliments it we say, “This old thing?” We post #selfies. For the love, WHY?! Do we not own mirrors anymore? I seriously think this is the equivalent of Snow White’s wicked stepmother. It’s not enough to own a mirror and figure out for yourself how you look, we only feel validated if we also get a voice coming out of that mirror. Just for us, that voice takes the form of “comments” or “likes” or whatever you call that heart option on Instagram. Seriously, if you looked awesome and didn’t #selfie, did it really happen? This is the question I’m sure philosophy students are debating on college campuses right now. . . when they aren’t busy hashtagging pictures of themselves chillaxing.
I’ll admit that I’m a social anomaly this way. My Mennonite genes won’t allow me to take pictures of myself without somehow exuding judgement out of my own eyes on that decision. It tends to ruin whatever effect you were going for with the self portrait. And also, three weeks ago my husband removed our bathroom mirror to fix some drywall issues and put up a new bathroom mirror, but like most of our home improvement projects, that has not happened in a timely manner. So I feel like I ought to be on some kind of ABC 20/20 special about “The Woman Who Basically Guessed How She Was Looking for a Month” because I’m currently applying my make-up in my dimly lit bedroom and honestly I’ve never been happier. Ignorance is bliss and I am learning that basically nobody cares how I look as much as I do. So if I quit being preoccupied about it, it seriously ceases to be an issue.
My actual bathroom. For the last three weeks. Not. Joking.
I’m not saying we should be negative about our bodies, just why do we have to be so focused on them? They are tools. They allow us to do awesome things for ourselves and people we love. When they’re functioning well, life is good. When they break down, life is pain. I know, I know— they’re also beauty and all that. I get it. I’m just too much of a practical/functional person to actually get it.
But you know what we are all shameful about? Our bodies. Specifically, the byproduct our body produces. Yes, I’m talking about our poop. As the classic children’s book says, “Everybody Poops” (and if you didn’t just sing that to the tune of an REM song and add the word “sometimes” to the end, you are made of different stuff than I am), but we still get all weird about it. You know how you figure out that people are weird about poop? Get a poop-related illness. It’s eye-opening, for sure. You start learning there are a thousand ways to say “poop related illness” without ever talking about poop. And when the man PAID TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT POOP says to you, “I think we need to take a peek” and refuses to make eye contact with you, that’s when you realize that nobody wants to talk about poop. Nobody. You can’t pay someone enough (and I know we tried) to look you in the eye and discuss your poop. We just don’t know how to do it. And I’ll admit it— when a doctor legitimately tries, it’s REALLY hard not to giggle at them.
So when somebody asks for prayer requests and you say you are having a health concern and everybody asks you to describe it and you say, “digestive issues” that’s because you are trying to be polite. And then you have to go in for testing and you tell everybody it’s “blood work” or “imaging” but that giant scope had absolutely nothing to do with your blood and those images were not gained by by some serene X-Ray machine. And when a doctor asks you to bring in a sample, you are now going to be doing the stuff of nightmares: collecting your own poop, putting it in a container, and then handing it to some poor receptionist who is trained to act like this is not a big deal. You both know it IS a big deal, which is why you profusely apologize and then pray for her that night. That she would be able to let her work go at the end of the day and not have nightmares of people handing her bags of poop.
There are times I have considered just making up another more respectable illness. What’s something classy people get? Tennis elbow? I’m going to tell people I have tennis elbow. Or maybe I’m on a one-woman crusade to remove poop stigma from those of us who have digestive tract illnesses. Ugh. I don’t want to be that woman.
So let me encourage you to be thankful for your poop. If you are pooping normally you may have no earthly idea what a gift that is. Thank your body for doing what it’s supposed to. Thank God for blessing you with a healthy digestive system. Appreciate what may not be beautiful, but absolutely is natural. We try too hard to appreciate our bodies for how they look and don’t try nearly enough to appreciate them for what they do.
So I’m going to start taking selfies (no, not of my toilet, although that would be a brave step) and hashtagging them with how I really feel and what I’m really proud about.
#feelingfunctional #dontcurrentlyhavecancer #poopinglikeapro #notdeadyet #thankful
Who’s with me?
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