Typos

I was just signing off my email with the default closing I use for church work with people I haven’t yet hosted at a dinner party.

Yours in Christ,

it was supposed to have read. A flick of the fingertips, a momentary distraction. I look back to read it autocorrected to

Yours in Chiropractic

which is not what I intended to send. Lost it and laughed for a bit. Caught it.

Whether psuedoscience and weird philosophy is your healthcare thing or not, the idea that what knits us together—you and me, right now—is a cultural catchword for alignment is pretty… great, actually.

What is this Christ mystery, if not also sometimes a name for readjusting our relationship until we are fully incarnate, no matter how far apart our membership in this singular body seems to be. Hands on: probing, feeling for the part that hurts, hoping we have the skills and the wisdom to relieve the ache before we can relive it. Limited in scope, in need of a host of other disciplines to correct our presumptions.

That is how I am yours. In Christ.