Our Physiology Is A Cosmos
For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. 1 Corinthians 12:14-26
My thoughts have nothing to do with the metaphorical populated, variously gifted, church of Christ. Probably more than a bit askew. Went to the spinal cord rehab doc today and am thinking about the passage above more literally than I should. As we are fearfully and wonderfully made, we can be fearfully and horribly broken. And even then our physiology is a cosmos in its own right,
dangling as it were by a thread. A fragile bundle of myelin sheathed neurons and dendrites. Now damaged, once synergistic systems are smashed and struggle to find balance again. One compensating for the absence of another. Another firing instinctively but not connecting with its downstream receiver. Others quieted seemingly forever. Still others sabotaging the survivor with inconvenient, never timely “less honorable” functions.
Even in these messy, inconvenient moments, my thorn in the flesh gives me cause to remember that in my weaknesses, Christ’s power is perfected and His grace is sufficient. When borne patiently my embarrassment is His honor, and I am sanctified a bit further.
WheeledWords 