Wake up, dejected Body.  Look alive.  Stretch those limbs.  Wiggle those toes.  Warm up that sense of hope and be of good cheer.  A miracle has happened.  And it’s you.  You are the prized possession, the culminating masterpiece of a world (and then some)-renowned Artist who only creates, never duplicates.  Your exquisiteness, therefore, is harbored  in the fact that indeed you are one of a kind.  Now some may call you “different,” but He calls you His “marvelous workmanship.”  May you learn to give credence to the proclamation that He simply calls you His.  So now get up, beautiful and unique and enabled Body.  Look alive.  Because you are.  Rise up, I say, there’s work to be done.

Sometimes I write because I want to believe.  Sometimes I write because I already believe.  Other times I write because the journey from the former to the latter is so overwhelming that I don’t know what else to do.