Forced to Fit

I hate being "pegged."  That statement that starts, "Well, knowing you..." raises a teeny red flag with me especially if it comes from someone who doesn't know anything about me and only thinks they do because they know me in one context.  

There have been times I have done things just to upset the applecart of someone else's preconceived notion of me.  And there have been things about me that have come to light which have made others who think they know me, absolutely shocked.  Like the time a few years back that I got one of the 3 highest marks in the country for a leadership screening test.  I was "just a clerk."  The other clerks around me were (hee hee) shocked (and yes, that pleased me for some reason).  Some were angry.  Others were jealous.  Still others were happy for me and championed my cause.  It's funny - I could easily tell which ones were which. 

People are multi-faceted.  

You know what's annoying?  the whole concept of "fitting in"!!  Conforming to a set bunch of social rules just because someone - usually an extravert - has deemed that this is the behavior desired and that if you don't like it, you're "weird."  

It's like trying to hammer a square peg into a round hole, the peg is forced to fit, and is irreparably damaged.  Of course nobody thinks of it that way; "fitting in" is paramount.  (My question is always, "WHYYYY?")  If everybody was the same as everybody else, we'd be in a sorry state!  And how unutterably boring would that be??   

The apostle Paul recognized each person's individuality within the church, saying that each person had a part to play, each needed the other - just like members of a physical body need each other.  Just because my sense of humour is not like sister so-and-so's, and just because I am more hesitant to socialize, doesn't make me bad or wrong.  I am a unique and precious creation and was created this way for a reason.  If I become like someone else and sacrifice my own unique talents and gifts, then I've sabotaged my own purpose in the world.  

It's not a hard concept to grasp.  Square holes are hard to find, but they exist.  God created them too; He'll lead me to them. 

Shoulds and Oughtas

Ever said "fine" when someone asked you how you were, even though you weren't?

I have. Lots of times.

It's taken me a long time to figure out why. It's fear. Fear of rejection, fear of judgment, fear of not appearing as spiritual as someone else, fear of ... being real.

I grew up in the church. My first words weren't words; I tried to sing. My mother was a Sunday School teacher. Every time the church doors were open, she was there; I used to say I had a drug problem (she drug me to church, she drug me to Sunday School, she drug me to church suppers, she drug me to Ladies' Aid and Women's Missionary meetings, she drug me to choir practice and prayer meeting and all kinds of church events.) And everywhere there were people who expected me to be the perfect little darling. I knew all the right words to say, all the catch phrases. I lived in the land of Denial. And it wasn't Egypt. (Okay, bad joke.)

After my teenage rebellion, Jesus rescued me from my reckless behavior. But surrounded again by the atmosphere of the church, and embracing its call to a better life, I was sadly ruled by the great Should and its close cousin Oughta. And their alter egos, Shouldn't and Mustn't. Ughh. So controlled, so afraid of stepping outside the boundaries placed on me by everyone around me. Spouting all the Christian catch words that made those who weren't saved look at me like I had two heads. Carrying a five-pound Bible in my purse. Being obnoxious about my faith. Nobody in my sphere of "influence" gave a rat's behind. They wrote me off as going through a phase from which I would easily recover and then I'd be back to the same old person they knew. And they wished I'd hurry up about it, because if this was what Jesus was like, they'd just as soon go shopping.

I was so bound up in those shoulds and oughtas, shouldn'ts and mustn'ts, that I didn't even know who I was and couldn't enjoy just being alive in Jesus. For decades!! Spinning my wheels, in overdrive with the parking brake on, wondering why I didn't get anywhere, stressed out about my family and all the world around me, thinking I had to save them, I had to tell them, I had to be the one to fix them. After all, time was short.

God was even more desperate - to deliver me from that horrible existence. It was never His intention to riddle me so deeply with guilt that I couldn't enjoy His presence. He never meant for me to take on His job (that of convicting people of sin and bringing them into the Kingdom). He just wanted me to be free. And He was willing to do anything to do what He does best and has been so faithful to do every time: rescue me.

Let me share with you part of my journey, the part of it that alerted me that there might actually be a place of bondage in my life. It was before I even knew who I was, perhaps around 2004. I stumbled across a children's book by Max Lucado. It touched me so very deeply. And it was part of the preparation that God put in place that would kick into high gear over 4 years later.

The book was called "You Are Special." Click here to read a blog entry that includes the text of it.

Maybe, just maybe, you need to read it today.

... to be continued....