Weird, In A Good Way

I’m weird. That’s not news to me. According to my 13 year old daughter everything I do; in every facet of my life reiterates this fact to her. I don’t necessarily agree with her assessment, but that’s not what bothers me. I mean, if I squench my eyes real tight and go into a semi-trance, I can remember long, long ago, back to the dark ages when I was about 13. While I never would have told my mother she was weird, she certainly had her moments. I have heard, I think from one of my brother-in-laws, that it’s our job, our parental duty to embarrass our children. So, I feel being weird puts me on the right track.

Here’s the problem. She cannot, or will not define my weirdness. To her it’s like art: she can’t explain it, but she knows it when she sees it. It could be that I like to sing; loudly, about everything. I like to say I have a song for every occasion, and an occasion for every song. Or, sometimes if the timing is right, I will repeat a line from a movie that I have particularly liked, or from a hymn or quote a little scripture. I try to talk to her about how tough it is to be a 13 year old girl, so she should be nice to everyone; only to be met with that special look of disdain that 13 year old girls have worked into an art form. It could be something as simple as my stash of notebooks that I get for just $1 at Michaels. There’s just no telling.

A few weeks ago, after hearing for about the 47th bazillion time that I am weird, she said it again. I guess the 47 bazillion and first time was my limit. I got out one of my many handy-dandy notebooks (I know, that term also denotes my weirdness) and started writing down all the other words that she could use in place of “weird.” I hadn’t realized what a prolific adjective the word is, and there are some really great words that could replace it. Words like: bizarre, strange, peculiar, abnormal, eccentric, odd, and creepy.

When I was finished I tore the list out of my notebook and handed it to her. Guess her response? You got it! She said “You’re weird.”

I think about this list of words a lot. Mostly because I’m weird about 30 times a day. It really gets under my skin, there are so many wonderfully descriptive words in the world, why would she limit herself to just this one?

Then I had a little “DUH” moment. I go through life stuck in a rut, thinking the same way as always - like an old dog (no harsh comments here please) trying to learn new tricks. God wants me to grow more and more in his likeness, and yet I resist because his way is weird. His thoughts are not like my thoughts and neither are his ways my ways. God has, not just a list, but a book of the better way, yet sometimes I still resist transformation because it’s different.

Isaiah 55:8 "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord.