On the subject of toes... a page out of my prayer journal

I'm over at Patheos...

In this chapel, directly above the monstrance, there is a statue of the Risen Jesus, arms outstretched. Faithful to the biblical accounts ( Jn 20: 24-28), the wounds of Jesus’ crucifixion are still visible on his glorified body.  This depiction of his once-crucified feet extends low into my field of vision, inches away from the monstrance, as I concentrate on his True Presence in the Host. 

And as I visit, the statue’s portrayal, and the Lord’s profound nearness in the Eucharist, is an ever-present reminder of “This is my body, which is given up for you (Lk 22:19).” 

As I enter the chapel each week, my knees hit the floor and I bend low: My Lord and my God! 

Not insignificantly, my Lord and my God has toes. 

And I’m struck deeply by the delightful humanity of it all. The precious and weighty reality of the Incarnation becomes, remarkably, accessible. And in that moment of recognition, I find this God, who is undeniably wondrous and magnificent as the Creator of the Cosmos, all at once, very much lovable to my down-to-earth womanly sensibilities. 

I have a God with toes. Isn’t that amazing?!

Of course, there's more.