There may be some scan that exists that I haven't had in the past two weeks, but I doubt it. I've had a PET, CT, MRI, and smack in the middle, a mammogram thrown in for good measure. Let me just say for the record: if men had to have a mammogram (or some similar squeezing of a highly sensitive area of their anatomy), there would already be better breast imaging technology, or at least, a less painful technique.
Yes, I have been seen on the inside with nothing left to the imagination. I've had enough radioactive dye flowing through me to light this side of Dallas. It was all worth it to receive the extremely welcomed news yesterday that all of my scans were clear; no evidence of cancer presenting its ugly head somewhere else.
After seeing Jesus in the PET scan, I entered the MRI imagining God watching, laughing, saying, "Go ahead, if you must, but I already know what's in there. I created her. And, what's more, I see things you can't with your machines. I know what she's thinking, what she cares about, and what's really in her heart."
And, there it is. The real image that matters.
So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.
We hear so much about genetic research, genetic testing, genetic engineering, the human genome, DNA -- it's all very deep and promising and controversial. More than anything, I want to have the genes of God my father. I want that DNA. I want to be exactly like Him, inside and out. When I trusted in Him, he cleaned me up inside--erased all my sins. I fail in so many ways to model His behavior, but I don't have to earn His love. He's always there, picking me up, encouraging me to keep going. That's the freedom and good news I'll be celebrating this weekend.