math geek, you are loved

I'm surprised I don't have a dent in my head where the math part of my brain resides... or at least an air pocket.  Math and I are on, well... less than speaking terms.

I took my required math class this last semester and it almost killed me.  The whole semester I was trying to understand why:

a. This was a required class.

b. Anyone likes math.

c. When I will ever again use matrices to figure out a problem.

I sat on the couch every Wednesday afternoon/evening and tried to figure out the problems.  My suitemate called it the couch of confusion, appropriate... I like to call it the couch of pain.

Wise people kept telling me that I should appreciate the math geeks, they make life easier for artsy people like me.  They make the money, wear the suits... and I get to wear a linen skirt and graduate with an English degree... a certified starving artist.

I don't understand why poetry does not speak to the souls of the mathematically gifted, nor do they know why I don't get a rush when I finish a 21 step problem.

I love abstraction... the twists and turns that might lead to an answer.  My math buddies prefer concrete answers, especially if they can graph it.

You know what?  That's okay.  I have been thinking a lot about the body of Christ... 

I wonder what kind of God it is that has created us all so uniquely... the poetic, mathematic, musical, athletic, comedic.  We are all created in God's image... and the world revolves according to His scientific laws and the heart is moved by poetry inspired by His creation.

And all of these people that are reflections of Himself, are invited to be one with Him, through the sacrifice of His Son... math geeks and poetry nerds alike.

How beautiful... how divine.