An interesting evening at the shoppe

Across from me sits a man with his head in his hands. He stares at his computer screen with a deeply concentrated look. I wonder what he is reading.

About an hour ago I saw a man sitting in an armchair to my left twiddling his thumbs and fidgeting for a good 15 minutes until a tall, thin, and pretty brunette walked through the door. He hopped up so quickly I thought he might sit right back down. As she opened her arms to him he said, “It’s so nice to finally meet you” as they embraced. They have been sitting at the same table, drinking their cappolattemochachinotea of some kind laughing at each other’s jokes and talking about life. He seems relaxed, sitting back in his chair with his ankles crossed. She has her elbows on the table and keeps touching her face and running her fingers through her short hair. I think it’s going well.

Behind me sits a man who has quietly been talking on his phone for the last half hour. I overheard him explaining to the person on the other end how all that he wanted was to get his life together, for things to finally work themselves out. His stressed tone made my heart hurt a little. It is in sentences such as those whispered by this man that makes you believe that our physical body really is the outward expression of our souls and who we are at our core. How could this man be really known in this moment in his life without the ability to express it with his tone of voice?

A friend walked in just a little bit ago and with just a few questions inquiring about the pressing things in her life, I saw her eyes begin to well up. Life just isn’t easy for her right now. It seems that one of the most challenging situations in life is when you desperately love another and they either do not understand, or far worse, they cannot or will not reciprocate. I admire this woman, my friend, so much for her tears.

There was a time in my life where I swore off tears. That’s the truth. I thought they were the epitome of weakness. Today, I see them as the pinnacle of strength. The ability, or even the desire to bare our souls in such a way makes the dead exterior of our egos fall away – even melt. I saw the heart of my friend in her tears tonight. It reminded me of the reality of my own. I’d like to, one day, feel with every tear that rolls off of my cheek “I’m alive.” With every tear I can be reminded of my soul – the joy, pain, love, weakness, and contentment that it finds.

There has been many a discussion on the importance of our physical bodies lately in my life. It seems to be something I must learn, or understand perhaps on a deeper level. Coincidently, it is what I recognize most these days and it is something that I have ever so dearly come to appreciate – even need. The Apostle Paul argues over and over for the inseparability of body and soul in his second letter (1 Corinthians) to the church of Corinth. The Apostle John sends well wishes to his dear friend Gaius in Third John, and seems not to blink when mentioning his hope that the body is well, just as the soul is also well.

I find so many challenges in such thoughts that there could never be a post that contains every one of them. The knowledge that our body essentially bares our souls speaks to sin, insecurity, faith, trust, and our calling to both holiness and righteousness.

Praise God for His creation! Praise God for our soul and body – together, baring one another. Praise Him for the truth in His word, and the knowledge and understanding of those who came before us.

So dear reader, join me in being mindful of the body – our own as well as others – just as it is the soul.