Real people, not molds

Nate and I are home from our bible study tonight, and we are now watching American Idol. We had a great talk on the way home -- not that we don't usually. I had a fabulous blog post written out. However, as I forgot my telepathic posting helmet, I shall have to attempt to recreate it here.

As part of our new role in children's ministry, Nate and I are spending a bit more time with our pastor and his wife. We have more of an opportunity to speak with them, and are spending more time with their children. We have always liked Chad and Julie, don't get me wrong. However, over the past months, we have come to truly respect them and one of our very favorite characteristics has been really brought home. They are real. They don't hide that they aren't perfect. Chad doesn't wear his "pastor suit" and speak with a different accent on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights. Julie doesn't dress their children in matching clothing and have them sit neatly throughout the entire sermon, taking notes. In Latin. They are good people, and they have good children. But they are not perfect, and they don't pretend to be.

Of all of the qualities that I admire in people, this is one of the hardest to find; the ability to be real. Watching American Idol tonight, I see these ladies and gentleman in these costumes. There is really no other way to describe what they are wearing, and these little personas that they put on to get noticed. I know why they are doing it -- they want to be the next American Idol. They need a gimmick.

My point, if I can have a point this late at night after multiple nights in a row with very little sleep, is that I want to be able to be who I am. I want to allow my children to dress themselves, even if they don't match, and give them the confidence that they look fabulous. I want my five year old to be comfortable in his footie pajamas, and never fear that someone will laugh at him. I want to raise my children to be themselves, because of my example and willingness to let my real self show. I don't want to dress a certain way, or use certain appropriate church lingo just because it is expected of me. I want my friends from church, the lady who waits on me at the grocery store, and the woman who cuts me off in traffic to see the same person inside of me. No gimmicks.

I want to be me, wrinkles and all. After all, that's who God loves - warts and all, no gimmick required. I want to be real.

Dana