Big

A while back, a friend asked on her blog, for people to list their favorite body part. We love to pick apart our bodies and find the major and minor flaws that make us a real human being. I thought it was a great post from my friend, but I never personally accepted the challenge.

I’m not a petite girl. I was born tall like my dad, and curvy like my mom, and my step-dad worked solid muscle into the mix. I tend to get most compliments on my body when I’m at the gym, or out hiking, biking, or being active. Somehow, normal clothes mask my best features. What looks sexy curvy and strong in a swimming suit looks fat in a sweater. What looks powerful and sleek in shorts looks…well, I don’t even try to wear jeans…Am I the only woman in America who feels more comfortable nude than clothed? Why did Lucifer have to tell Adam and Eve they were naked?

However, there are some compliments no woman likes to hear, not matter how honest and sincere they may be. Thursday night while at the gym, I was working in leg lifts with a small Brazilian man. He was lifting 150 lb, me 50 lb. He was helping me re-weight the machine and he says “You have such strong legs.” With a lascivious smile and then proceeded to watch me with my 12 rep set. The rest of the evening he followed me around the gym. (Which is also why I never talk, or make eye contact, with anyone at the gym!) On Friday, as I was walking through the Public Gardens, two men walked past me and one said “I love your big beautiful legs!” Okay, seriously, the words ‘love’ and ‘beautiful’ do not override the word ‘big’ here.

I do like my legs because they carry me here and there and hold me up and they are strong. But I think my favorite things about me that are also big, are my heart and my brain. Unfortuantly, I can't really take a photo of those things. Sorry.

Feasting

I recently read an essay from Krista Bremer titled “My accidental Jihad” in which the author describes the lesson’s she learns during her husband’s observance of Ramadan. As she is coming to terms with the natural human tendency towards selfishness, she wonders “Is love an endless feast, or is it what people manage to serve each other when their cupboards are bare?”

The statement first hit my heart where I had to honestly acknowledge that a few of my friends that I have been frustrated with have fed me over and over, even though their cupboards were wiped clean. And I know that I do not. I hoard. I have little stashes and pockets of me saved away from everyone.

After I mulled that realization over for awhile, I started thinking how this concept applies to not only our relationships with ourself, and with other people, but with things such as work, school, hobbies, etc. Am I pursuing dreams in my life that I can continue to serve even when my cupboards are bare? Elder Oaks Sunday afternoon talk also talked about this: There is good, better and best. Work towards the best thing.

I habitually pursue things that weren’t as important to me for lack of courage. But all those things I’ve worked towards aren’t necessarily things that I will be able to serve when I am empty. There is too much going out and not enough coming in. And I don’t mean enough “ME” time. I am selfish or self preserving enough to demand that, but I don’t have enough important nourishment coming in to sustain me.

Safety is Wonder Bread and a glass of water.