Thoughts of a Mrs. Modern-Day Mountain Woman Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Your Body is a Machine.

On our honeymoon we decided to hike a portion of the Appalachian Trail. It was one of my first experiences backpacking correctly, knowing how to truly load a pack and what you do or do not need along the way. It was also my first time hiking anything bigger than a Missouri hill. I had been living in Illinois right before our wedding, and while I had stayed fit biking, walking, cleaning houses and gardening for others, I was not Smoky Mountain hiking fit. I remember slowing down on the trail and starting to feel the pain of my untrained muscles. After the camping and hiking portion were done, I remember the drive home and subsequent stops at tourist places being a lot uncomfortable. I felt like I couldn’t stand up straight; my legs hurt so much! Throughout the whole hike and while trying to not tease my hunched over walk afterwards, Mr. M-DMM would say that he was going to tell our kids someday what a machine I was. I felt broken, but I was becoming much stronger.

It’s safe to say that Mr. M-DMM knows much much more about machinery than I do. He can fix just about anything he works on. Not always easily and sometimes with a bit of non-standard adjustments, but he can always get it to work. It’s about all I can do to check the fluids, tires and windshield wipers on our vehicle. I relied on my dad to tell me when my beautiful and amazing piece of machinery, my Chevy Citation, was due for service. Sadly, my perfect car died the summer between my junior and senior year of college. It was devastating!! The timing belt came off and destroyed the engine on my drive home from work. Thankfully I was near an acquaintance’s home and could call for a ride home. I made it back safely, my car did not. My husband never had the wonderful gift of knowing this car. He makes fun of it, nonetheless as being a “sub-standard” car. To me though, it was perfect. It didn’t look all that great, the power steering had gone out years ago, the gas pedal was so hard to push my friends teased me of having a very strong right calf, the hood was held on with hood pins (not because of the engine size, but because the hood was damaged), the list goes on. In retrospect, it was probably not a very nice car. Reading over it’s list of flaws, it seems pretty dangerous now, but back then I loved it. It gave me freedom, allowed me to get from point A to point B and back, and was all mine. It served its purpose when it was needed and when it was tired and done, I had to let it go.

Sometimes being broken down and worn out makes us stronger. When we work out, our muscles tear apart a bit and heal together bigger and stronger than they were originally. When we feel broken by life, we find a ray of hope and grow stronger once again. When I had our children, I felt like my body was not my own. It didn’t look like I was used to it looking and it definitely didn’t feel like I was used to it feeling. Looking back though, it was beautiful and the subsequent changes to it after having children are also beautiful. The gray hair from those children’s shenanigans is also beautiful! Proverbs 16:31 reads, “Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained in the way of righteousness.” Somedays I feel like it was attained by having three children who are all very active, independent, and close in age! I found out that my body truly was a machine! I was able to do more than I had originally thought, and even though I felt like I may be breaking, I was able to be fixed.

A Man and His Machine.

In life, things don’t always go as expected. I dreamed as a younger person of being able to spring up and down to play with my kids. Now, my knees pop and make noises, but I can still play with them and enjoy the results, just at the table more than the floor! I had hoped my Citation would drive forever. I wanted to pass it down to my kids someday. No matter how much maintenance I did to it would have allowed that to happen though. It was time for it to go, no matter how difficult that was for me. Our bodies are the same. No matter how much maintenance we may do to it will allow us to live forever. We need to be ready for our engine failure at all times. Be ready to go to walk when your machine goes to the scrap yard; be ready to go to our final resting place with our Creator when our engine fails. Embrace the changes and live your life now, taking care of and enjoying the machine God gave you.