Enter Beast Mode

Yesterday, something big happened. This:

I have never had a prosthetic that wrapped up my leg, only shoe inserts or ones that pulled on like a sock.

I didn’t think I’d love this, but the guy explained that having a big prosthetic like this for heavy wear and tear would extend the life of the “pretty” one.

Basically, all I heard was “it’ll save a good bit of money in the long run” and I was sold.

There was a complication with the pretty one and it won’t be fixed for a few weeks, but friend, I don’t even care.

This big, bulky contraption that makes it obvious that I’m wearing a prosthetic? It feels amazing.

I am Superwoman. I propel forward with every step and my hips don’t roll.

My body is sore in the best possible way as it remembers how to walk evenly, or maybe for the first time.

And it reminded me of salvation. I was 18 when I finally learned that I could not earn my way to God, that I needed something outside myself because I was insufficient.

Similarly, my body is not whole. My foot lacks bones and toes and length; my soul lacked discernment and righteousness. Before this prosthetic, I didn’t know how it felt to walk rightly; before Christ, I didn’t see the world rightly, and therefore didn’t act rightly.

My foot is a constant reminder that we live in an imperfect world where the fall marks even our genetic code–but my prosthesis is a reminder of a kingdom that is here but not yet: it visibly shows correction of a problem without fully eradicating it.

And it is a reminder that one day my body will be whole and perfect and without sin because Jesus has promised to wipe away every tear (Rev. 21:4). And I’m pleased to live with that reminder.

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