WRESTLING WITH MY HUMOR

Even as a little girl, I knew I was different.  My family accepted, even embraced my humor and quirkiness.  My brothers were entertained by it, one eventually joining in at times.  Mama had a touch of it and Daddy just quietly smiled at my eccentricities.

However, when I became a pastor's wife the distinctions became amplified.  I did NOT fit the stereotypical model of a pastor's wife.  The word typical was barely in my vocabulary, much less my behavior!  

I tried.  At times.  It felt a bit like the ugly step sisters must have felt trying on Cinderella's tiny glass slipper!  Maybe it was more like David clanging around in King Saul's XXL armor.

 It didn't fit me.     

Sometimes I wondered why God made me this way.  He doesn't make mistakes so it must be me.  As a extrovert, I'd strain to appear more introverted in crowds. I wanted to be more like my elegant, ladylike friends.  

Quiet it down, Kathy!  Don't say that, even though it just popped into your brain and you think it's funny.  So I'd squeeze my big Type A personality into a small Type B girdle, but could only maintain it a few hours at church on Sundays.  Then along with my heels and bra, I quickly shed it once home.

Some of the ministerial staff we worked with over the years cringed but extended grace to me.  As the children flew from the nest, I wrestled less with my humor.  Their friends enjoyed it.  I began to accept it. My firstborn and nieces loved my eccentricities.  I had lots of cousins, aunts and uncles who were like me. Like the cowboy with diarrhea, it's all in the genes.  Thank you, family!


















Ricky began as a normal but somehow morphed into an occasional me. 










Reunions with family were where I could be fully me.  Then our baby girl, Katy, married Dave.  Once again a new family member shared my quirks.  Good fit!  He'd come right back at me and crack me up with his wit. Even now our Face Times are not normal. Normal is barely in Dave's vocabulary.















In my young adult brain I somehow thought I'd magically change, calm down into normalcy by age 50.  It came and went.  Nothing changed.  Except maybe my acceptance. A friend who knew me as a young mother recently commented on some Facebook antic of mine, "I'm glad you haven't changed in all these years."  Hm-mmmmm.  I tried to for so long.





Finally after years of trying to restrain myself, God gave me a pastor who seemed to not only tolerate or accept me but actually LIKED my humor.  While he didn't necessarily share it, he seemed to enjoy it.  So I loosened my restraints a bit, even on Sundays. Thank you, Dr. Mike.  With all your dignity, you blessed me to shed mine.  He even said as he retired, "I hope God gives me another Kathy in my future life." Wow!  He popped back up on my doorstep one day recently just to surprise me.  Glenda said, "You should get her back for all the times she got you!"  I love it.  And them.




Then God freed me up even more with another pastor who was JUST LIKE ME.  He'd banter right back at me during staff meetings.  Even from the pulpit he'd pick on me and I loved it.  Not just because humor is fun or funny but God was freeing me to be fully me.  Maturing in Him gradually revealed that He made me this way for a purpose.  Making people laugh is a good, healthy, healing purpose.  Thank you, Pastor Johnny.  As my last pastor in ministry, you gave me a wonderful gift.  You.  A different, quirky, eccentric man of God.


We even celebrate Easter with a "SHAZAM!" At my retirement he said, "You all think I cross the line of inappropriateness but Kathy dances on that line!"  I do.

So you want a moral to this story, clique as it is?  Then celebrate who you are.  Do so early in life.  Don't try to fit an image of anyone else.  You're not a mistake.  Your personality was shaped by God.  Your gifts were given by Him to encourage others and glorify Him. We all know that.  Yet we sometimes think we should all be somewhat the same. We're not cookie cutter images of God but reflect Him in His many faceted ways.  God loves diversity.  Look at the flowers!  Don't toil or spin.  

Chuck Swindoll wrote, "God does not call everybody to build temples. He calls some people to be soldiers.  He calls some people to do the gutsy work in the trenches.  He calls some people to compose and produce music.  God has all kinds of creative ways to use us--ways we can't even imagine and certainly can't see up there around the next bend in the road."   


If you prefer a quiet corner with a good book and find it too peopley out there, plop into a cozy chair and snuggle down!  Or if you, like me, suddenly find yourself drafted onto a stage by The Jersey Boys with a captive audience. . .KICK HIGH! 

BE fully who God made you to be!