Early on, I became aware of "labels." This is the process of evaluating and subsequently ascribing an attribute (positive or negative) to someone in order to put them in a nice neat little box so one will know how to better relate to--or avoid--said person. We (family, friends, church members, etc.) do it to each other all the time.
It was not any different when I was younger. For example, growing up, my oldest sister, "J" was the 'smart one', 'the dancer', 'first born'; My second oldest sister "B" who was petite, was the 'pretty one', and 'special' in the youth department at church. (Our youth pastor and his wife named their daughter after "B" because they thought so highly of her.)
Then there was me. Hmmm....who or what was I? I don't recall any labels given to me. Even though I was always a great student, creative, and active in church, I was never labeled "smart" or "special" by my family or church, and I will admit those teen years were awkward in the appearance department, complete with braces so "pretty" was never a tag attached to my name.
The little odd duck inside of me had lots of fodder to dine on in my young adult years. Outwardly I had learned to play the game and worked hard to blend in, but inwardly, I struggled greatly. Truth is, I knew as a follower of Christ that I should believe that God created me 'fearfully and wonderfully' (see Psalm 139), but honestly, I couldn't figure out what that really meant. I didn't seem to "fit" in any box with the world, or at church, or even be worthy of a label.
Being away from home and in an entirely new environment for college helped somewhat. I carved out my own little identity and life, but still struggled with great feelings of inadequacies and insecurities. I did receive the label of "nice" which in all actuallity is not really all that complimentary. It's one of those terms people use when they don't really know you at all and are at a loss for a descriptive tag. Even the worst of criminals gets this label from their neighbors who, when interviewed, make comments like, 'I would never have suspected it! He seemed like such a nice guy' .
After college I married my dear husband, then became a mother. For a while, this helped quiet the quacking of the odd duck within. That feeling of paralysis--the inability to head in any direction emotionally or spiritually--subsided as I busied myself in an identity, a role, that seemed very acceptable to the outside world and even esteemed in the church. The physical, mental and emotional exhaustion of giving birth to and caring for 4 children all within a 6 year time span allowed me an "out" for not dealing with my issues deep inside of me. The busy-ness of life kept my feelings of inferiority and angst at bay for some time, but the depth of my relationship with God was pretty shallow as well. I really didn't believe in the deepest parts of my spirit what scripture said about me. I relied on my circumstances to give me that peace, that sense of belonging and identity.
All was "ducky" in my little domesticated, labeled box for about 10 years until God decided it was time to do some recycling...
Stay tuned...
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