This is rather embarrassing and maybe too much information, but some days I don't brush my teeth. It takes energy. It takes time. Chronic illness makes one of the simplest things very difficult.
Over the last year, I've gained a different perspective.
Although I may never admit this, deep down there is some belief that my body is broken beyond repair. It will never function as it should ever again. Who would want to live in this body? Why bother caring for a broken body, it's hopeless anyway, right?
Wrong.
First, God made me. My body is simply a loan and while I can't give back to community or use my talents in the ways that I want to, I can do something to take care of what God has so graciously given me. He gave me a body to care for and if that's all I am able to do for the rest of my life because of my illness, I still want to hear the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Secondly, Jesus uses my broken body. Jesus loves my broken body. Jesus, through His death and resurrection, has made His HOME in my body. And, let me tell you, He is perfectly content to accept such a pitiful offering and dwell here. An offering that the world deems burdensome and unsuccessful with no way to contribute to society.
The bottom line: I am VALUABLE to Him.
How could I not be? With His bruised arms out stretched on the cross, He tells me how much He loves my broken body, my broken soul, and my broken heart. And Jesus has a personal experience of brokenness. He gets it.
If my body is of value to God, even though it's sick, then so are my teeth.
And that's why I brush them.
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