Welcome to the Land of the Misfits

Kids say the darndest things! As she was eating dinner the other night, my nine-year old daughter turned around and looked at me and said, “I’m a Rudolph, Mommy, a Rudolph!” Tears began to well up in her eyes and her bottom lip started to tremble just a little. I was shocked since she had not been upset at all during the afternoon/evening. When I asked her why she would say such a thing, she cried more and told me that she just didn’t feel like she fit in anywhere. As I patted my lap, prompting her to run to me and cuddle up there, the thought that was running through my head was, “Welcome to this world, love.” Needless to say, I did not vocalize that thought. I just held her as she cried, and I joined in with more tears.

I would like to think that we’ve all felt this way at one point or another, so I want very much to generalize here; but, I’ll fight the urge to do so, and I will simply speak for myself. I feel exactly like my little girl most days and I have for as long as I can remember. I’ve never really felt like a “clean fit.” So, I decided to tell her that and, when I did, she stopped crying and her ears seemed to perk up. And I noticed a look of sheer amazement on her little round face as she said, “Really, Mom?!” Yes, really.

Realizing my little girl and I are kindred spirits in this way prompted me to marvel all over again at our awesome, all-knowing God. You see, looking back now, I believe that God, who tells me that he knew me even before I was formed in my mother’s womb, made me in such a way that I have to fight really hard to even feel the least bit comfortable down here; and this hard realization is indeed a gift to me. I never saw it as such though until I saw this same battle in the heart, mind, and soul of my own little girl.

As she and I talked more about what she was feeling and how I understood it quite well, I asked her what happened to red-nosed Rudolph at the end of the story. She looked at me pensively, waiting for me to answer my own question, which she does a lot. I then pointed out to her what all of us who love Rudolph know–he becomes the hero of the story; once he discovers how to use his most unique gift, he is able to help save what is dearest to all of those around him–he is actually able to save Christmas.

I couldn’t help but smile as I reminded my little girl of the storyline, and she then smiled a really big smile right back at me. “Being a Rudolph is not so bad after all now is it?” No, it’s really not bad at all. It’s the way we’re supposed to be I think. If and when we choose to follow Christ, we become citizens of another world altogether. Thus, we are no longer “clean fits” down here. And our job (“mission”) becomes similar to Rudolph’s–we serve as lights in a most darkened land; as he had the privilege of bringing Christmas back to life, we have the most undeserved honor of introducing those around us to a new life that truly has no end.

So, for anyone else who feels as if he or she lives in the Land of the Misfits (like that pink spotted elephant or that “Charlie in the box” or that little bird that could spin but not fly), you’re in great, great company; because as I also pointed out to my little Rudolph, Jesus Christ himself, according to the measuring stick of his very own people back in the day, was quite a misfit too–until he returned to his one true home, where he has prepared a place for all of us who have chosen to believe he is the Way.