"called to build the kingdom first through the romance and adventure of our home..."


Embody | Part 2 | Embodying What Is Beautiful

EMBODY is my "word of the year" for 2018. It's become a pillar for me and came as the culmination of a long, negative "relationship" with my body that I have been vigilantly trying to correct, understand, walk into joy with, and hopefully help any like me along the way.

1. The Realization of The Body (The Literal Embody)
2. Embodying What Is Beautiful
3. Comparing and Contrasting Beauty and Sexual/Physical Desirability

4. Practical Steps
The Creativity and Artistry of Bodies
6. The Embodiment of Others

disney (19 of 23).jpg
disney (20 of 23).jpg

Before I could get into the thickest cut of meat in my soul, I had to step back and answer some fundamentals.

Before being able to figure out “Why do I have this unquenchable thirst to be physically desired and thought of as beautiful?” or “Why does not having as much of it as I want, or as much as others have, make me spiral into sickening wallow?” or “Why can’t I do something (lasting) about it if I care so much?” or “Does physical beauty even matter at all? Isn’t it about the inside anyway? Should I just learn to turn this off?” or “If it doesn’t matter, really, what’s the harm of absolutely giving myself to being the most culturally-ideal version of myself possible?” or “Gawd, why do I hate my body so much? I want to be pretty/thin/beautiful/sexy so bad.” I had to answer:

What is beauty?

Like love, people use the word to communicate such different concepts.

That’s a beautiful sunrise!
That’s a beautiful presentation of garden vegetables!
That’s a beautiful limerick!
That’s a beautiful set of lady legs!
That’s a beautiful baby name!
That’s a beautiful story you told!
That’s a beautiful flowering tree in a city!
That’s a beautiful sensation on my clean, bare feet!
That’s a beautiful smile!
That’s a beautiful masterpiece of paint!
That’s a beautiful chemistry moving to salsa music!
That’s a beautiful piece of dead cow!
That’s a beautiful combination of air, brain waves, throat, and ear drums!
That’s a beautiful grief.
That’s a beautiful pair of breasts!
That’s a beautiful woman in labor.
That’s a beautiful royal Highness in her palace.
That’s a beautiful athletic achievement.
That’s beautiful intellectual genius. 
That actually tastes so beautiful my body has chills and I practically have tears in my eyes. I’m moaning. Let me mash more of that around with my saliva and molars upon my tongue.

How can the same word be used for all these? What binds them together? Does it detract from any given electric, pink sunset in Tampa that there is an even better sunset happening in Fiji, or that The Northern Lights exist? Is beauty a threat to itself? Is it really important that it be graphed, charted, lined up in order of rank, and critiqued on the spot? Or can beauty just… be. Even in the slightest degree. And in it’s is-ness… can it just be appreciated? Adored even? Hunted for and blissfully discovered anywhere? Even *if* a greater source of it exists elsewhere?

Why is it devastating to so many to not be “the most” of it, especially physically? Can being just one of the physically-beautiful (or in certain ways physically-beautiful) people in the world be enough? All the while being able to admit there are plenty of other beauties, including many far greater ones? Why do we have to live in denial to be “at peace” with ourselves? (Spoiler alert: it’s not working)

Lots of questions, as you can see.

Here now enter: My Podcast Warriors.

The week I saw Beth Joyce’s “I’m obsessed with being a woman comfortable in my skin” post, I listened to two episodes of “Mystics & Makers” titled “Beauty Will Save The World Part 1 & Part 2

I’ve listened to it, oh, maybe 10 times since then? It’s Stephen Roach interviewing Brian Zhand on his book (and life theory) that “Beauty will save the world,” which is a direct quote from Fyodor Dostoyevsky in his novel “The Idiot.”

These are two Christian men discussing the essential virtue of beauty. I have never heard this before. It was ground-breaking.

“Even though we have an eye for it, and we recognize it, it’s hard to say what it actually is. But no matter what else we would say about it, beauty seems to be connected to form. So that whether it’s a poem, a painting, a song, a sculpture — it’s something about the form, the structure, the arrangement of the piece that comprises it’s beauty.” Brian Zhand

I started gasping with the connection of the dots. I’d been stuffing myself was as much “embody” as I could the past 72 hours, a word in which almost every definition includes “form”… and ‘out of the blue’ I’m hearing beauty boiled down to: the form. 

Zhand continued:

“Ancient philosophers identified the three prime virtues: the true, the good, the beautiful.

As virtues they are not utilitarian. They are not a means to an end, they are an end in themselves so they need no further justification. 

So we would say: 

We want the true because it’s true.
We want the good because it’s good.
We want the beautiful because it’s beautiful.

Later in the church we come to understand these virtues as attributes of God himself.

We have a long history of Christian apologetics (this is a Christian defense of truth as understood through Christ.)
We also have a long history of Christian ethics (this is the good as defined in light of Christ).
Christian aesthetics, though, have had a mixed history. 

There have been times when the church has been good at it, but in modernity we have, along with the wider culture, gone ahead and dismissed beauty as a prime virtue of Christ. We’ve come to think of it as mere adornment.”

[Read that again]

“In modernity we have, along with the wider culture, 
gone ahead and dismissed beauty as a prime virtue
We’ve come to think of it as mere adornment.”

“So, what does it mean for us as Christians - Christian artists and thinkers - to portray or embody beauty? How do we embody the aesthetic beauty calls for?” Stephen asks in response. Great question, sir. What does that mean? And look at that word… showing up again. Embody. The unpacking these two did of Jesus, his life, the cross, etc as the pinnacle of all beauty is just magnificent, especially since (as I noted in the previous post) “He had no outward beauty or form that we should desire him.” This seems crucial. “What is the beautiful form of Christianity? I would say it’s the cross. Which was an intentionally hideous object, devised and utilized by an occupying military empire to physiologically terrorize the populaces that it dominated.” It wasn’t physical desirability, beautiful as that may be (and is!).

As I was outlining and preparing this series over the holidays, another podcast appeared *perfectly timed* in my line-up. TED Radio Hour aired a compilation of Ted Talks on *dun dun dun!* beauty!

The episode includes parts of the following Ted Talks:

(To start just listen to this summary on TED Radio Hour , but along the way go ahead and listen to their entire presentations.)

disney (18 of 23).jpg

I loved what I heard. A highlight was listening to Bill Strickland, head of Manchester Bidwell Corporation: “Manchester Bidwell combines many seemingly disparate elements – adult career training, youth arts education, jazz presentation, orchid and floral sales – into a dynamic whole with a proven record of positively changing the lives of underserved populations in Pittsburgh and the surrounding region.”

These are Strickland’s words from the podcast, describing elements of his facility and training center:

“We have quilts and clay and calligraphy and everywhere your eye turns, there's something beautiful looking back at you. That's deliberate. That's intentional. 

We even have flowers in the hallway, and they're not plastic, those are real. And now that I'm giving lots of speeches we had a bunch of high school principals come and see me and they said, ‘Mr. Strickland, what an extraordinary story and what a great school, and we were particularly touched by the flowers and we were curious as to how the flowers got there.’ I said, ‘Well, I got in my car and I went out to the greenhouse and I bought them and I brought them back and I put them there. You don't need a task force or a study group to buy flowers for your kids.’

Literally, students walk in the front door on any given day and there's an orchid that greets them at the front desk, which is the first thing that they see when they walk in the place. And I believe in introducing those magical moments on a work day, not just on a weekend, but on Monday morning. Many of our students who have never been in touch with orchids or seen them before, are now having them become a part of their vocabulary.

They're assuming that the world is made up of pretty things like orchids, and they're absolutely right. 

And the world that they're going to enter into, they're going to be seeing a lot of orchids.”

There isn’t a student or trainee who enters Manchester Bidwell’s doors who doesn’t personally understand the reality of ugliness in this world. Strickland’s wise emphasis on convincing them there is beauty has had stunning results.

In Richard Seymour’s portion of the TED Talk he says: “We don't always understand what's beautiful until we know the story behind it, the narrative, right? Here, Look at this. What are you feeling about it?” Mr. Seymour shows to his live audience “a clearly naive picture, but that is drawn with a crayon and is of a butterfly taking off from a flower.”

He continues: “Is it beautiful? Is it exciting? I'm watching your faces very carefully. There's some rather bored looking gentlemen and some slightly engaged looking ladies. Now I'm going to tell you what it is. Are you ready? This is the last act on this Earth of a little girl, called Heidi, five years old, before she died of cancer this month. That's the last thing she did. The last physical act. Look at that picture. Look at the innocence. Look at the beauty in it. Is it beautiful now? 

Stop. Stop. How do you feel? Where are you feeling this? And I'm watching your faces because your faces are telling me something. There's a lady over there that's actually crying, by the way.

I like to look at people's faces when they're reacting to things. When someone's reacting to something that they often think is exquisitely beautiful, their face isn't doing what you think it would do. You'd think, wow, they'd be sort of loving this, or there'd be a big smile on their face. 

It's not like that. You've usually got steepled brows and more something that looks like pain than it looks like beauty. I think it's the bitter-sweetness, 

the tension between the sweetness and the bitterness 
that often creates this heightened sense of beauty in something.”


What is beauty?

“There are few synonyms for the word beautiful. The word is difficult to define. If you look up in a dictionary you’ll read it and say ‘Mmm, yeah. That’s true enough. But that still doesn’t seem to capture it.’” (Brian Zhand)

“Beauty is a particular series of sensations.” [But isn’t that the effect of beauty, I wonder?] (Richard Seymour)

Wabi-sabi, a Japanese term for “the discovery of beauty in imperfection; the acceptance of the cycle of life and death.” [Anyone else hear this on this season of Project Runway? Ha!] (And discovering beauty still doesn’t define what it is)

Vorfreude, a German word: for your pleasure (but has more to do with longing or anticipating, not “having”)

“I always hear myself saying, ‘She’s a beauty!’ or ‘He’s a beauty!’ or ‘What a beauty!’ but I never know what I’m talking about, I honestly don’t know what beauty is.” (Andy Warhol)

“We find beauty in something done well.” (Denis Dutton),

After mulling over, and not quite nailing it, and reading, talking, listening, thinking some more… I think I’m convinced that beauty is:

Form and/or narrative done well.

I think sometimes the form, even if there is hardly any story or “meaning,” just is. It’s been created so well that it is definitely beautiful.

I think there are times that form can be “less than” or at first (or second or third) glance unappealing or unattractive (like Christ), but once the narrative is told, the subject becomes beautiful.

And I think skillful narrative is a version of form, so any story or account done well is intrinsically beautiful.

So, the way that I embody (exemplify in form), and also narrate myself, my life, all that I experience and am responsible for, and The One Who Gave It All To Me is what constitutes my ability to live beautifully. To be beautiful.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time.” Ecclesiastes 3:11
The Book of Daniel refers to “The Beautiful Land” for which they strove to enter.
In Acts a man, “lame and disabled from birth,” would be carried daily to the temple gate named (wait for it) Beautiful where he could sit and beg for money. One day, at Beautiful, in the name of Jesus, Peter commanded him to rise up and walk, he did. His feet and legs were made strong, he jumped and celebrated. “When all the people saw him walking and praising God they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.”

This is what beauty does: invokes wonder and amazement… from simple crayon drawings of a butterfly about to fly off a leaf into a new world, in a new form, by a dying girl… to orchids… to almost any kind of sunset… to absolute physical healing… to hamburgers… we see how these all connect. The well-done form and narrative needs no justification, only admiration. “Wow.”  

I’m convinced this little story from Acts is an analogy for us. When we’re “the beggar” and life has inflicted it’s bitterness on us, we go (and when we can’t go ourselves, we allow to be carried), and sit at the gate named Beautiful. And we wait. Small beauties, every day. This forced sitting gives us lots of time to look around and observe. To pay attention to the world and the people, and to connect the dots. To be grateful for a few coins clinked into a little cup; to be thrilled with a spilling cup! “Wow! What a good day! Thank you.” And someday, we will be called to rise up out of our pain and limit, and walk. The form will transform, the narrative with culminate, the orchestra will soar. People will remember who you were, what you went through, and be amazed. Endure well. It is so beautiful.

And sometimes, we’re the onlookers. Life is as normal. Not paralyzing. Putting about our days. What a loss to miss out on that sort of beauty because we were too *fill in the blank.* Wonder and amazement is too good to overlook. Stop. Stop. Are you feeling this? Is it beautiful now?

“…discover connections that, even if obvious, seem to escape detection.”

Don’t let it pass you by, and, for me… that means my body. Don’t let the health, the power, the miracle, the pleasure, the physical attractiveness of being 20-something and *me,* the love quite a few people have for my body pass me by. Self! Stop. Stop right now! Are you feeling this? Is it beautiful now? Don’t let it escape your detection. Don’t distractedly or numbly miss this wonder. Don’t write an ugly narrative over your form.

Embody beauty itself, and thereby be Beauty.

Up next: Part 3 - Comparing and Contrasting Beauty and Sexual/Physical Desirability

Embody | Part 1 | The Realization of The Body

EMBODY is my "word of the year" for 2018. It's become a pillar for me and came as the culmination of a long, negative "relationship" with my body that I have been vigilantly trying to correct, understand, walk into joy with, and hopefully help any like me along the way.

1. The Realization of The Body (The Literal Embody)
2. Embodying What Is Beautiful
3. Comparing and Contrasting Beauty and Sexual/Physical Desirability

4. Practical Steps
The Creativity and Artistry of Bodies
6. The Embodiment of Others

Screen Shot 2018-01-04 at 4.49.33 PM.png

The Realization

In my intentionality to work through what has been life-long self-loathing of body (and all the ramifications that has on me, including but not limited to how I view other people and their bodies, how I am able to enjoy events/life moments given the haunting and constant ‘voices’ of hate, how it impacts my marriage, how it impacts my motherhood, how it impacts the mindsets of other women, what my daughter and son will hear from me in my home, the importance of the motive not just the action, etc). I’ve stumbled onto a moving realization. An obvious one. An incredibly un-smart, simple one. But one that changed the direction of the tides for me.

Earlier this fall I saw an Instagram post by Beth Joyce, an illustrator (mostly of women as her subjects), captioned “I am obsessed with becoming a woman comfortable in my own skin.” The same day, on a “hippie tribe” feed I saw an image of a woman looking upward, chest lifted, eyes closed with the caption: “Being An Embodied Woman.” I felt the ripple of the four words extend into my thighs when I read. I read it again. I looked up the word. 

I am no stranger to unpacking the complexity of this. I have been for years now. For our entire relationship “my thing” is “this thing” and Caleb and I come back to it over and over. Learning to chase a feeling, not an image. The importance of health over looks. The difference between inner and outer beauty. Cultural ideals. Money made off of the pursuit of “beauty.” “Everyone is beautiful!” (but… how come many seem so much more desirable?? Is it all big-business and power-trip lies?). Why do I need to feel this way so badly. Body Positivity Movement. “Don’t embrace your flaws, reject the notion they are flaws to begin with.” The ugliness of catty competition. Bodies as objects. Objective beauty in bodies. Subjective beauty in bodies. The beauty of motherhood at the expense of the beauty of “your youth.” What a topic to reconcile! Why doesn’t it seem to matter as much for men (though I know it’s there to a lesser degree). How you do you find peace? Insisting “you don’t care! This doesn’t matter?” But aesthetic everywhere else does… the look of this world, the look of art, the look of food, the look of architecture. How do looks not triumph or lead, when they are all people can know about you to begin? With not a word spoken, without a heart’s secret shared, with no character qualities known, without a single story, or dream, or devastation, or personal history detail, but simply when seen a stranger knows *something* about me. Even if all they know is how I look. How I look IS a part of me.


The most casual stranger might percieve a bit of my personality and “vibe.” Maybe my emotions in that moment. To the more perceptive stranger they might translate body language, color story, my wealth, and my public persona, potentially able to guess at my inner self if they studied my eyes or my posture or way I hold the things I have to cart around with me in life.


“be an expression of or give a tangible or visible form to the intangible (an idea, quality, or feeling).” 

“to give a concrete form to.”

“to represent the immaterial in material form; personify.”

“to represent a quality or idea exactly in form.”

My experience of life has been one full of profound connection to my mind, opinions, values, and “vision” for life, relatively disconnected from “my feelings,” and opposed to and rejecting my body. I haven’t liked, enjoyed, been comfortable in, or absorbed life through my body in a good way. I tune it out, berate it, feel guilt, and have often said “I wish I could be here but just be invisible. I want to talk and think and explore and enjoy this world, I just don’t want to be seen doing it.” My body seemed only to contribute two things besides basic function: potential sin or failure (whole different topics).

Marriage and motherhood have slapped my cold, wet pain on my raw cheek, and I haven’t been able to avoid the necessity of overcoming this. I don’t think it takes marriage or motherhood (or grief or or or…) to stir the process, but those are what did for me. I’ve been desperate to connect my body to my mind, heart, spirit, character, personality, and anything unseen that I think is “me” and what the Lord has made. What a joy it has been to ponder the embodiment of God.

God, The Father, The Holy One, The Maker. 
Artist, Creator, Inventor, Builder.
Painter, Composer, Scientist, Architect. 

Screen Shot 2018-01-04 at 4.51.19 PM.png

He took the untouchable of Himself and gave it touchable form. He took His qualities and feelings and truths and made them into something like butter or blueberries... able to dissolve on my tongue, developing more flavor in the process, and then with this beauty sustain my life.

It’s not rare to hear that this universe and earth and all that is in it is His artwork or handiwork. But it dawned on me that it is Himself. It’s not just that He likes/loves or values these (He does!), it’s that He IS them. “I am Beauty, so here is beauty.” “I am a Writer, here is word. Here is a story… including the stage, costumes, sound effects, and cast of characters.” “I am Holy, here is perfection.” “I am Good, so here is good.” “I am vast.” “I am detailed.” “I am constant.” He didn’t create water to communicate that He was wet, but that he was refreshing and quenching and nourishing. So on and so forth. “This is what I’m like.” Here is fascination, here is texture, here is delight, here is abundance, here is safety, here is taste. “Do you see? This is who I am ‘inside,’ go forth… experience in material form.” This world embodies God’s attributes; ideas and qualities and feelings made physical.

Then He sought to exhibit the part of Him that is "Life," or more specifically The Living Self. 

“Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into His nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.”

He made the human body. The embodiment of life. We are routinely told in church about being “made in His image.” It’s hard to let that pack it’s punch. My mind quickly goes to Walt Disney’s report that Mickey Mouse is an embodiment of himself. A playful, positive-attitude-ed, spunky, sweet, old soul, who spent his life battling dark depression, being a workaholic, enormous personal tragedy, and isolation. Mickey wasn’t the embodiment of all but of a part. A part Walt needed to cling to and longed to bring to life (in his own life!). A part dangerously close to becoming swallowed up and lost for good.

God was the first cartoonist.

But of course, this world and all the immaterial souls wiggling around in material form, weren’t His final embodiment. Jesus. The Concrete Form of Absolute Holiness, Perfect Love, and Literally Every Good Thing. The spirit of God took human form. And, this is where my hate begins to lose it’s traction: Jesus is described as having “no beauty or form to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.” (Obviously he had beauty but not cultural, physical, desirable-to-a-stranger beauty. More on that in the next post.) He was absolute perfection. Aesthetic and beauty and “how the things look” matter. It’s undeniable! But we find ourselves with a God who is not physically attractive in any stand out way. I’m sure he was just an average guy.

He is called (or calls Himself) and embodies everything from food (“The Bread of Life”), to nature (“Rock,” “Vine,” “Branch,” “Rose”, “Seed,” “Root”), to objects (“A Door,” “A Cornerstone,” “A Horn”), to animals (“Lion,” “Lamb”), to a creative (“Author,” “Creator”), to a role (“Captain,” “Shepard,” “King”, “Witness,” “Messenger,” “Counselor”), to qualities (“Faithful,” “Glory,” “Blessed,” “Holy,” “Consolation,” “Truth,” “Almighty), to a family member (“Father,” “Heir,” “Groom,” “Son”) and so much more.

Scripture describes God as cloaked, wrapped, adorned, and clothed and also offers guidance to how we should be as well.

“Adorned with glory and splendor, 
and clothed in honor and majesty.”
We read of His armour and of His royal silk robes.

To us:

“Clothe yourselves with humility.”
“Adorn yourself with honor and grace.”
“Strength and dignity are her clothing, 
She smiles at the future.” 
“Skirted with gladness.”

I don’t just have the joyful privilege of getting to develop the inward beauty of God’s qualities, but I have the gift of being able to wear them, to look like them, to be “ideas and truths in concrete form” (or let’s be honest… Caleb is the concrete form, I’m like… the cookie dough form. Ba-doosh.).

Just like the rest of all art.
Just like the rest of all aesthetic.
Just like the rest of every sensory pleasure (or disgust).

And, gosh, I see it! I get it!

As the sound of horse hair on wire, pressed and pulled *just* the right way can make the sound of ache.
As the form of leaf veins look like wrist veins. (I love series’ like these that detail the body and this world as connected:
As some clouds look like a dragon with a ball or a pair of legs in boots.
As spicy food tastes like spicy attitude.
As the outer layer husk of an onion feels exactly like when your spirit is fragile and thin, yet still holding it together.

Steve Jobs said “Creativity is just connecting things.” Amanda Palmer said “Collecting the dots. Then connecting them. And then sharing the connections with those around you. This is how a creative human works. Collecting, connecting, sharing.” W. I. B. Beveridge said “Originality often consists in linking up ideas whose connection was not previously suspected.” Paul Rand said “The role of the imagination is to create new meanings and to discover connections that, even if obvious, seem to escape detection.” Stephen Roach said “The role of the artist isn’t journalistic reporting but rather to help us attend and see again that which we may have missed.” 

Some people look a little bit like an alley cat.
Some people look a little bit like Santa Claus but as a child.
Some people look a little bit like a Honda Civic.
Some people look a little bit like a radish.
Some people look like Woody from Toy Story.
Some people look like an oak tree, and some look like a fuzzy shrub.
Some people look like mystery.
Some people look like tender.

Look like strong.
Look like soft.
Look like hard.
Look like Type-A order.
Look like the wind.
Look like warmth.
Look like light.
Look like beauty (more to come).
Look like humor.
Look like intelligence.
Look like fun.
Look like innocence.
Look like experience.

Like threat.
Like relief.
Like confusion.
Like a garden of budding flowers.
Like weariness.
Like discipline.
Like comfort.
Like envy.
Like royalty.
Like sweet.

You can probably do it. Think of someone who looks like comfort. She probably came instantly to mind. Think of someone who looks like spunk. Oh man, you can see it in their eyes, can’t you?? Think of someone who looks like a warrior. Who looks like a swan. It’s so easy.

Not “exclusively” of course, but I’ve been able to identify how much my external has been personifying jealousy, desperation, numb-ness, disdain, effort, and discomfort. (Isn’t it great how someone who is uncomfortable looks exactly like what discomfort feels like? Oh, it’s uncanny.) Gosh, how sad to spend my life embodying envy or superiority complex or spite.

In “Walt Manner” I made myself a list of the primary “soul untouchables” I want my body to bring to life. Not all but… given my life thus far, who God created me to be, and my preferences, what do I really want to aesthetically look like? What do I want my body to, well, embody!

My Greatest Sensory Pleasures
- Story and Word
- Light and Shadow
- Taste/Flavor

My Greatest Roles
- A Wife
- A Mother
- An Artist

My Best Qualities
- The desire to make all things meaningful/beautiful
- My pluck and moxie
- How intrigued I am to know, understand, and experience/“A Scout” (as detailed in this piece)

What God Specifically Notes
- Dignity
- Strength
- Grace
- Humility
- Salvation

Wow. My body can look like a story (“The Story of a Mother,” “The Story of The Afternoons on The Beach,” “The Story of Surviving A Death,” “The Story of Pizza Enjoyed, And Kombucha And Organic Multi-Vitamins Too,” and on). It can look like courageous curiosity in the shadows (like when Belle asked the Beast to step into the light so she could take a good look at him, and then without flinching boldly walked to his face and said “You have my word.” and volunteered herself to become a monster’s prisoner in order to set her beloved father free.) It can look like a piece of art, freedom from shame, and Someone’s Lover. It can look like flavor tasted, "a time to rest in the shadow of the tree," and a light in the distance or light bursting through the perfectly placed picture window.

I understand how simple this is, but goodness… I have become captivated with the concept. How I wanted to be invisible, and how I’ve come to love the chance I get to make the invisible visible. I’m obsessed with becoming a woman comfortable in her own skin and story.

My mind lurches to identify the qualities others embody:

Caroline looks like adorable and she really is “inspiring of great affection; delightful; charming.”
Sara looks like a peaceful deep well and she has explored the cold, lonely holes of this life and they’ve led her to river banks.
Summer looks like feist.
Becca looks like comfort. (Just spend one afternoon with her. One.)
Megan looks like genuine confidence.
Ally looks like joy.
Mrs. Maisel looks like colorful nerve.
Shannon looks tough.
Dumbo looks bashful and precious.
One of my dad’s longtime buddies looks like a St. Bernard, just as playful and loyal too.

And on it goes…

Collect the dots. Connect the dots. Share the connections.

Praise the Lord for His skill, for His design, for His installations and art, for Himself. And let Him flow out from every place, including the literal, physical body. May I and we embody the best things well.


Up next: Part 2 - Embodying What Is Beautiful