Sep 24, 2008

Mandate of the Manatee

I can't explain why, but I absolutely love Manatees. With their large, white, squishy bodies, their adorably ugly faces, and the way they live their lives as though they completely understand the Shalom of Christ. The peaceful floating blobs of love and wonder.

I think about Manatees and their fragile, peaceful lives. I think about the scars they carry from the blades of boat motors and how each scar on each manatee makes them unique from every other manatee. I think about how those scars, long healed, will be part of who they are until they die. And still the Manatee swim about in their peaceful manner, seeming to accept the wounds as a part of life, a part of who they are and they aren't bothered by any of it.

Have I become so emotionally attached to my scars that I pretend the pain never happened? Do I let the pain determine who I am and how I'll live with other people? Do I offer advice to others to not dwell on their pain, get past it, get over it.

I want to be like the Manatee, where the Peace of Jesus defines who I am, and the scars that I carry only allow me to know that while I'm like every other human on the planet, I am also unique. Hurt will come and scars will form, but despite them, I pray that I can still rest and float and be at peace.
The scars don't define who I am, they only mark the places I've been in the river.