Duck, Duck, Odd Duck -- Part 1

As the scene unfolds, we see a group of children gathered in a circle playing "Duck, Duck, Goose." Suddenly, I realize that I am a part of this group. I see a pretty, bright girl stand up and begin dancing around the circle rhythmically tapping the heads of the children as she works her way around the circle, chanting, "duck, duck, duck....", getting closer to me I anticipate hearing, "goose" as my cue to stand up and start running in the opposite direction. 'Here she comes!' "Duck, duck...," 'My turn'! As she places her hand atop my head, ready to hear "goose", I hear "odd duck." I'm paralyzed, I can't even get up and run in the opposite direction. What direction do I go? No one told me the rules to this game. How does this game play out?

No, this didn't really happen to me, but it does sound like a bad dream. Most of my life I have felt like an odd duck. I used to feel paralyzed by it, not knowing where I fit in, or how to fit in; but in the past 10 years,I have been continually freed up from this paralysis, understanding more who God created me to be, my "bent", my passions, and that it is okay to not fit in! I'm experiencing increasing freedom in Christ. Interestingly enough, my friend Paula mentions this same idea in her posting this week, 'feeling comfortable in our own skin'. As I talk to more and more women, I'm finding that there are many of us 'odd ducks'. Why is that? Why does it take us so long to just be who we are and not care what others think?--and know that we're okay!

Oddly enough I have found that it is easier to be who God created me to be out in "the world" rather than in "the church", which is so opposite of how it should be. Please don't hear me as saying I have a gripe with my church, or church in general. I'm not speaking of one church in particular but rather relating my perspective and my experiences growing up, attending church regularly and continuing that on into adulthood.

I realize my early negative experiences in church were shaped by other believers who were not genuine (and riddled with insecurities themselves) and a church culture that was prone to legalism and not the message of grace. The church we attended at that time had many affluent members. It was not a community church, but rather a "commuter" church. The church building was in a very poor neighborhood, yet I don't know that anyone from the neighborhood attended! Rather, people from all over the city attended this church, many who were 'power people' in the city, and in the denomination. My family also came from outside of this community, but we were not among the affluent. We were very typically middle class, but attended there because my father's family had attended there since he was a boy.

On a couple of occasions, I can remember one girl, who was a doctor's daughter, (my father was an electrician) making comments to me about my family and the area of the city we lived. I had never thought we were different from other church families, until she made an issue of it. This girl also had new outfits to wear all the time, and was very fashion-conscious, as her mother was very mindful of outward appearances. My family was much more casual and the focus on being fashionable and "up-to-date" in our clothing was not a glaring priority. We were happy having good, clean clothes! Even the fact that we didn't attend church on Sunday nights was pointed out to me. I guess we missed the memo that stated you got extra points with God if you attended on Sunday night!

I know now, as an adult, that children can be cruel, but those things that were said to me as a child were always tucked away in my little mental closet. From time to time they would peek out and I would give them some attention and wonder if somehow, my family really was messed up and I was really a loser and didn't know it! In my teen years when my parents were divorcing and my father died, I felt that to some extent this girl was right. My family was messed up and I was a loser. Oh, I just remembered one other instance of mental pain inflicted by this girl. Her father died from a brain tumor two years after my father died. I was compelled to give her some comfort and empathy since I also had gone through the experience of losing my father. She pointed out at that time that it was 'different' though, because her dad was a great dad and really respected at church, not like my dad who was divorcing my mother and had left the church. OUCH! I'll confess I decided to write her off at that point, but it was too late, the little odd-duckling had already hatched!

To be continued.....