Our Chains are Gone

I think I want to say this.

I’m cruising through my Facebook Newsfeed, and I read George-Takei’s-share-of-a-slate.com-piece-about-a-Time-magazine-article that reveals Little Girls think Curvy Barbie is FAT. Six years old, my friends, and they’re identifying anything other than very thin as F-A-T. (One little girl spelled it so as not to hurt the Barbie’s feelings.) I read the slate.com piece, and I’m angry. And sad. Women – collectively – we are so imprisoned by this…this…this BODY THING.

I move automatically to the next share in my feed. I’ve seen it before, but I watch it again. Just impulsively. It’s nine women covered neck to ankles in white dresses, standing in a stream singing Amazing Grace. And while it’s true they have remarkably pretty hair (lol), their wonderful bodies show a God-given range – Curvy Barbie is there! When they hit the line “my chains are gone” I start to cry…

Every day, ladies. Every. Damn. Day. Every day we have to choose –-

We can be the ever-anxious little girl who isn’t thin enough (or pretty enough, or busty enough or WHATEVER enough)

Or

We can stand in the stream with our sisters remembering our Maker and reminding ourselves AND OUR WORLD that

OUR CHAINS ARE GONE WE’VE BEEN SET FREE

After all. We’ve got things to do…