Mar 5, 2008

When love is in the house, the house is packed

Can I go on about the voice a little more and then never mention it again?

The voice has come back, but it is not my voice. This voice is exotic, husky…smoky.. sultry. I feel like a new me – a temporary, different me. I slink around singing jazz, “feelin’ mellow like a cello…”, I resist the urge to toss over my shoulder “hi there, big fella” as I walk out the grocery store door. I feel like I should have slept in until 2 p.m. and have friends named Sunshine, Teddi or Zeno. I should have black seamed panty hose drying on my shower curtain rod.

Alas. I must be who God created me to be and not who I sound like I should be. Wouldn’t it be fun to decide each day, upon waking, who you want to be – just like deciding what to wear each day! “Okay, I’ll take the black socks today…and hmmm.. how about I’ll be Al Gore today and rescind the water saving legislation I introduced that rendered all toilets worthless….” As I think over this, I think of several people I’d like to be on any given day.

I’d like to be one of the angels with God the day He told Abraham Sara would soon be pregnant. What I’d give to hear Sara’s laughter! I’d like to be Mark Twain just for one day, careening down the Mighty Mississip, hair flying all askew. I’d like a day to be Ansel Adams with developing ink all over my hands or Lewis or Clarke exploring America, paddling through who knows what to come upon an awesome view in the middle of Oregon. I’d slap his hand and say, “Most triumphant, dude!"

I’d like to be anyone in Greece hanging out with Plato and Socrates when Athens was the envy of the world. I’d be calling Spartans “militaristic barbarians” or the Corinthians “immoral drunkards!” and slamming my fist on a marble column.

I’d like to be the first person to stumble across Hanauma Bay or the Grand Canyon and just keep that little secret to myself for awhile. I’d like to be Mustafa Kemal’s sister in Turkey around 1920 – who wouldn’t want to be a Young Turk for a day??

Speaking of 1920, I’d like to be the first woman to vote! I’d like to be the Apostle Paul preaching his “Unknown Gods” sermon on Mars Hill with a loose leather strap flapping on my sandal, wishing I had a little piece of duct tape. And just one day, maybe next Friday, I’d like to be Ruth Bell Graham hanging out with Patricia Cornwell enjoying tea and stimulating conversation. I’d tuck my loose strand of hair into my head scarf, grab her hand and say, “Let’s sit out on the terrace overlooking the North Carolina mountains. Billy, be a darling and bring us some ice for this tea.”

I want to be a lot of people but just for one day. Most days, I'm happy to be me, the me God created me to be. The Psalmist sang out to God, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful.” Psalm 139:13. Romans 12:5-8 tells us we are all different and are created for different purposes. We all have our strengths and weaknesses and God wants us to work together for His glory. I gotta be me; you gotta be you. God loves each and every one of us just as we are and we need to model that love towards each other. Think of another person you cross paths with and lovingly take notice of how they reflect God’s glory.

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