// Shelby Hawks //

Sisters—what would it look like if we allowed our bodies to reveal our souls?

If we look back at the Old Testament, we see that the people close to the Lord allowed their bodies to outwardly express the intimacy they experienced with Him interiorly in their souls.

Moses left the presence of God changed—His face glowed.

The Israelites sang and praised God with their voices.

David danced in front of the Ark of the Covenant.

And it is the same in the New Testament—encounters with Jesus left people physically different.

Magdalene remained at His feet.

Peter wept.

The blind man could see and he proclaimed the name of the Lord.

There is a physical expression of the reality that takes place in the soul, sisters.  I think, oftentimes, we suppress that physical expression, be it joy, sorrow, sadness, ache, and keep it all internal so that no one can see it, out of the fear that vulnerability breeds.  We prefer to keep our spiritual lives tucked away and locked up in the hidden part of our soul.  And when we leave our inner room, no one sees any difference.  But sisters, what if we let the world see the light that is waiting to squeeze through the cracks and break down the door to reveal the glory of God?

Resurrection is not just for our souls—it is also for our bodies.  When the disciples encountered Jesus risen, they ran.  They rejoiced.  They proclaimed.  Their mouths, their feet, their hands, their eyes—each of their bodies looked different because they reflected the joy that was overflowing in their souls.

There is beauty when we allow our body to experience the movements of our soul.

Moses glowed because he experienced astounding glory.

The Israelites sang because they could not contain their wonder.

David danced because his joy was diffusive.

Magdalene stayed at His feet because it was in this posture of prayer that she fell deeper in love.

Peter wept because the Lord’s converting look left Him with the desire to change.

The blind man could do nothing other than shout the name of Jesus because his life was forever transformed by healing love.

Jesus leaves our soul breathless—and how do our bodies respond?  

When we share the good news with a friend in pain, do we smile and let the genuine joy of life with Jesus be shown on our faces? Or do we just talk about Him the same way we talk about how much we love pizza or the Office?

When we come before the Lord in prayer, do we allow our bodies to settle into the posture that reflects our souls?  Do we cry, do we lay down, or stand, or curl up like a little child if we need to?  Or do we sit rigidly in our chairs and halfheartedly flip open the gospels, keeping the walls up so that we don’t risk the chance of people seeing us cry?

Do we let His resurrection power change us—the whole us, body and soul?  Do we let ourselves try to do hard things so that we can see Him provide for us?  Do we try to reach new limits physically to show our souls that it’s possible to go to new places with the Lord?  Do we awe and wonder over the way our bodies heal and allow it to remind our souls that healing is indeed possible?

The point is this, sisters: it is okay to be raw spiritually, and it is even more okay to let the rawness manifest itself in our bodies.  Our bodies weren’t made to stay silently behind at the empty tomb, they were made to exult in the dawn of New Light.

This is my challenge: let’s live differently this week.  Let’s allow our bodies to experience resurrection power.  Dance if you want to dance.  Cry if you need to cry.  Sing praise at the top of your lungs.  Go on a run to remind yourself you are capable.  Walk an extra mile to believe that you can do hard things.  Breathe slowly to experience the peace of the risen Lord.  Do something new—whatever it is.  Let it be a reminder of the hope that sustains you.  

Let’s invite our bodies into the resurrection power we hold in our souls and see how it changes us, be it in the glow of our face, the joy of our speech, the peace of our breath, the creativity of our hands, the strength of our body.

When we step into Resurrection, freedom flows.  Here’s to freedom, sisters.  Let’s run out of that silent, still, empty tomb.