I don’t want to be normal.
That may
seem like a strange declaration, and maybe it makes sense. No one wants to be
normal. Normal is boring. Normal is commonplace. Normal is antithetical to
being special, which is what we all really want.
At some
point, for good or ill, I made the decision to embrace my own non-normalcy, and
to enhance it. Maybe I knew I was never going to fit in, so I decided to stand
out. Maybe I just wanted to be noticed in a different way from “Oh, it’s that
girl who reads all the time.” I didn't question it along the way, but now, at
23, I've become a dread locked, pierced, gauged and tattooed woman, and although I'm sure I'm not nearly as cool as I think I am, I’m left
with a slight question of “When did this happen?”
Did I make
the right choices in my journey to stand out? Have I just turned myself into an
oddity? Who knows. I don’t regret any of my choices-exterior and interior, I am
who I want to be (mostly). But the point
is, in become this person who stands out, I find that sometimes I really stand
out.
The way I
look causes people to draw conclusions about me before they know who I am. Not
everyone, but some people. I've been told I’m rebellious, I’m a sinner, I’m a
bad person-a whole spectrum of things, just because of a couple of piercings and
some dreads. They think I do or sell drugs one time a lady actually moved her
kids away from me. I feel so conspicuous at times, just walking down the street,
because of all of the people looking at me. It’s not enough that I’m white-I’m
also really different.
I’m not
saying this for sympathy; I’m saying it so that you will understand what I’m
asking of you. The problem with standing out is that you can’t blend it. You’re
highly visible. You’re in front, for the world to see. And as Christians, we
should be that visible.
Ah, you
say, stoking your chin. I’m visible. Everyone knows I’m a Christian.
Well, good
for you. But what about the people you don’t know. Do they know? When’s the
last time you witnessed to someone on the street? More than just your friends
knowing your religious convictions, could a stranger pick you out of a lineup
as a Christian?
Jesus said
“They will know you are Christians by your love (Jn. 13:35).” This sounds like
a statement, but it’s really a command. We’re called to go out there and share
the love of Jesus and His good news, and how will the people recognize our holy
origins? By our love. It’s a tall order, and not nearly as easy to spot as a
dread locked white girl.
I don’t
want to be normal. Not on the outside, and not on the inside. I’m finding,
though, that it’s a lot easier to change how you look on the outside than how
you look on the inside. My love is insufficient-at the end of the day, I’m
tired and cranky and rundown and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to show
love in any form; I want a pillow and a book.
For me, the biggest test of my love
is one of my girls coming up to me and telling me about their day, wanting my
attention. I show my love, and Jesus’ love, to them when I read to them, or
when I spend time with them, even though I've worked all day and I’m tired. For
my girls, I’m one of the first, and most constant, examples of Christ’s love
that they’re going to see, and it’s my responsibility-my charge-to show that
love in every way I know how. Although my love may be insufficient, His isn't; it never ends.
Don’t be normal. You don’t have to
get a tattoo; you don’t have to dread your hair. Don’t use me as your role
model. There’s only one thing you really have to do, only one person worthy of
emulation: Jesus.
Does your love look like his?
1 Corinthians 13:4-8 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.
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