Weirdos

It was my neighbor, who faked a seizure at the church pizza party I invited her to in the 4th grade. There wasn't really a reason for it; she just dropped to the ground and put on quite the show. My cheeks felt hot as I looked around and saw all my classmates just staring at her, the weirdo on the ground. They wore Hollister and liked to talk about boys and my neighbor wore...not Hollister and apparently liked to fake seizures for fun...? It didn't help that she was my tag-along, so judgement of her also included judgement of me, which meant a lot in the 4th grade to an already awkward girl like me. I may have not been the seizure-faking type, but I had my difficult-to-understand quirks. They stared, but Elizabeth was unfazed. 

It was my cluster of friends in youth group, the homeschooled losers. While the private schoolers obsessed over brand names, athletics, and getting new cars for their 16th birthday, our cluster sang in the choir, wore Walmart, and joked about the most random things a human mind can conjure up. I had braces and cystic acne at the time, which contributed to my lack of appeal to any boys there. My homeschooled gang stood out because we were odd, socially inept, and we all looked like the worst parts of puberty. At that time, most of us didn't care what they thought; we had each other. Still, every teenager has a deep desire to be acceptable in society. And who gets to decide who's acceptable? The popular Fayette Academy kids did, I guess. 

Cut to young adult Bible Study, when Jennifer was just visiting. I'll admit, I found her to be strange. Unlike youth group, our college-age group wasn't mean or snobby. But you can always tell when someone doesn't want to talk to the "weirdo" in the room, though they may go about it in a subtle and "nice" way. Jennifer  was the definition of a country bumpkin, thick accent and all. She was ignorant, not pretty by society's standards, and sometimes said the weirdest things. Still, I clung to her in a way. Maybe I felt obligated because no one else would dare bother to actually spend quality time with her, though they were very cordial to her. Or maybe I felt I could relate to her situation. I've always felt like an odd ball, though I've learned to mask it well with a bubbly essence and jokes to make people forget how weird I can be. It's hard to explain, but I was so random and socially awkward. The things I found funny or interesting were things I felt no one else could possibly care about. Maybe that's why I felt drawn to Jennifer, in spite of the fact that she was more odd that I was.

Though some of the pressure to be normal and cool goes away after high school, every human wants to feel...normal. My neighbor probably found her core group who accepted all her layers of who she is. My homeschool group probably have good careers and friends because homeschooling isn't just for weirdos anymore. And Jennifer? I don't know if she's ever really found anyone who's completely understood her. I can speak for myself and say that I've embraced my edges, for the most part. In a social setting, I find I can be unapologetically weird. I make my weird jokes, confidently make my ugly faces for pictures, and do my "famous" dance moves that always throw people off. However, I do find myself cringing from time to time because I've said something completely random and can't take it back. Still, I've found that sometimes you can make one feel comfortable by being an odd duck. My way of including someone and putting them at ease is to be weird and awkward and that allows them to breathe easy. 

I do think about Jennifer often. People like Jennifer that God seems to always put in my path. These are the people no one else wants to be friends with. These are the people who are deemed freaks by "normal" people. And Pastors, leaders, and those in ministry may claim a pledge to love everyone, I can always see them feeling uncomfortable around a Jennifer. What normal people may not know about Jennifer is she's generous, laughs at everything, and offers all of her free time to you. So underneath the unfamiliar behaviors is a heart longing to be loved and to show love. Underneath is a soul easily taken advantage of because it jumps on board at any sign of regard. These church people who try so hard to be good Christians miss the most precious gift they could be given: an opportunity to be wildly uncomfortable around someone and love them anyway. They miss the chance to love the outcast. They miss out on loving Jennifer. 

This is something I must admit I struggle with as well. After all, no one knows what to say or do around someone who's...socially different. I've had my moments of "why is she so weird?" and uncomfortable body language. To be honest, I don't know if these people even notice how uncomfortable someone may be around them. Do they know they're being scrutinized by the norm? Are they aware that even their Pastor cannot seem to connect with them and may not even want to or feel the need to? I've had moments when I've felt someone's discomfort around me, so I'm sure someone else has sensed that from me. Being in ministry, it really shouldn't be the case. It's easy to love someone like you. It's comfortable for the jock Pastor to connect with a jock and do Bible studies with him. What isn't easy is for the jock Pastor to connect with the artistic immigrant who's fine with silence. It isn't easy to or desired to minister to or be friends with the person who is all the things you aren't. Why should it be easy? It shouldn't. It should be talked about and prioritized though.

In churches throughout the country, there's a promotion of love and acceptance and "coming as you are" to church. I'm not speaking of acceptance of sin, but acceptance of who a person is in their personality traits and brokeness. We send out this message: you are welcome here! Yet, we don't know how to handle the girl who has a mental breakdown at church or the boy who comes across as a little...feminine. Now, I only have experience in primarily white churches, so perhaps there's a different norm within churches of different cultures. What I have seen since being in New York City is Pastor after Pastor claim to love to embrace the diversity and differences of people in this city and yet cling and spend time with whatever white friends they've managed to find here. I don't want to make it a race thing, because it's more of a person thing. However, with a different race comes personality and behavioral differences. Why is the church Planter so focused on a diverse and loving church, but cannot even relate to and get to know someone who has nothing in common with him? And a more important question: why isn't this being pushed and talked about more in the christian realm?

Why is Jennifer struggling to get the love she's longing for? Why is she alone, when she's tried so hard to fit in and make friends? Why is my immigrant husband friendless when all he does is pour himself out for the sake of the Gospel? Why do I myself still feel like an outsider in whatever church I'm with? Our love for others shouldn't have "popularity" strings attached. Our love shouldn't depend on whether we can click with someone or not. Love should be poured out to the outsider, the weirdo, the quiet ones, the addicts, the slightly loopy, because God's love surpassed all of our quirks and shortcomings. At my weirdest, lowest, and filthiest, God saved me and looked at me. He saw me. So how can I ignore someone who needs to be seen, regardless of what they appear to be? If we're ministers of the gospel, why are we concerned about programs, how pretty the Pastor's wife is, or watching the superbowl as a church? Shouldn't those things be the least of who drives us? Shouldn't our drive be to be absorbed with the gospel and making it known to all? Newsflash: All includes freaks you're scared to talk to. 

I'm on a rant and don't really know what point I'm trying to drive home. I guess I'm just rambling because my heart aches for the ones left behind. I hurt for the ones sincere in themselves, but rejected. Although Jennifer and I aren't friends anymore (not because of her quirkiness), I think about her whenever I think about those I find it hard to be around. Whether it's someone who isn't mentally all there or someone who can't seem to understand social ques, my heart is drawn to them. I think I've finally realized that maybe the reason I'm a little awkward (even my family says this), is because I'm built to love the awkward. Maybe my calling in regards to ministry is to talk to the invisible, to spend time with the outcasts, to love the ones that make everyone feel uncomfortable. This doesn't mean I will feel comfortable. Rather, in spite of normal hesitancy, I march forward with the mission I have in reaching out to these people: To love as Christ loves me, to see them as Christ sees me, and to lead them to a God who doesn't care if you like to fake seizures for fun.