Tuesday, November 5, 2013

[yournamehere]

Names. We all have one. One that our parents gave us. One that we get just by having parents. Nicknames that follow us around. Names we wish people would forget were associated with us. Words that aren't even names, but ones that somehow seem to stick to us, things like hard-working, drop-dead gorgeous, lazy, a party-er, flirtatious, quiet, and a million others adjectives both good and bad. We judge others by their names and then we add more names to them.

Basically, the whole world is constantly identifying others while at the same time seeking to proclaim their own identity. Every single person in the world has an identity. Is it self-made, or just a picture that others have painted for you?

IDENTITY.

We tend to figure out our identity in a very backward way. The things we wear, the way we look, our bodies and our expressions and our physical traits...these things paint a picture of us. But that is entirely opposite of how identity is really determined.

Our identity is determined by who we are on the inside. This body is flesh, and flesh only. Made from the dust of the earth. Polished with some soap and a dash of brightly colored fabrics. That identity bleeds into our physical appearance in little ways.

But these bodies that we live in? They are passing shadows, faint glimmers of beauty, fragile as a dandelion gone to seed.
Photo found on Google images
Sometimes it is hard for me to remember that. My flesh is so strong. Its desires pull at me, jerking me back and forth all over the board. I listen to my flesh because...I think that it is me. I think that my blond hair and grey/blue/green eyes are mine. I think that my skinny little body is all mine to own and keep forever. I even kind of like my feet (don't tell anyone). 

For me to say "no" to my body -- when it's hungry or thirsty, tired or fidgety, weak or strong -- seems like a preposterous idea. Why would I even want to do that? 

I am asking God to show me the difference. The difference between me (my soul) and my body (the fleshly cage in which I live). 

I watched The Host for the first time tonight. I read the book a few months ago and it blew me away with its intense insight into the battle between soul and body. I posted about it here.

From The Host; picture from Pinterest

The movie was, of course, not nearly as good as the book. (I'm pretty sure that that's my favorite line. Get used to hearing it.)

But again, I was struck by the way souls and bodies were shown as completely separate concepts. Which, they are! How crazy is it that I know this to be true and yet I don't live it as truth. I don't act like I believe it.

From The Host; picture from Pinterest
The world is beautiful and there is magic in it. But the bigger magic is found within us. God chose to make us "in His image" -- we are a miracle fashioned by His very words to be like Him.

And then He did something even crazier. He died so that we might die to our flesh in Him. That our souls might have power over our flesh. And that He might take His Spirit (the very Spirit of God!) and anoint us with Him, as a present. We have the Holy Spirit living within.

My flesh fights this Spirit with its whole being.

It is a war of the very deepest kind.

"But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts." ~Romans 13:14

"Therefore, from now on, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know Him thus no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new." ~ Romans 5:16-17

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