Daring to be....Me

I just had a funny conversation with two of my male teammates after lunch. One was describing this girl as "fru-fru" and then, seeing as how I was the only female present for this conversation, he turned to me and said, "Don't worry, L. I don't think of you that way."

Hmmm. I know in his mind that was a compliment so I don't hold it against him. But he should have probably stopped there. He went on to further explain that he sees me as a "semi-psychedelic wanna-be." (H, I'll give you one guess who said this!)

A WHAT?

I had to ask for an explanation on that one.

Somehow he equates the fact that I don't take things for face value and that I'm a "thinker" and "smart" with being "semi-psychedelic."

My guess: he was digging himself into a hole, and couldn't find his way out.

No matter his point, two things came to mind from this discussion:
1. My teammates don't really know me all that well yet. --This isn't a bad thing. We only meet together once a week or so, and when we do, we are usually busy being "deep." They've yet to really see "Fun L" come out of the bag.

Plus, I've never been outside of the country with these people. I guess it's good that they think I'm "un-fru fru." But the truth is, if we ever went on break together, I think they'd be surprised. I'm girlie. I like the color pink....lip gloss...wearing cute clothes...and shopping, among other things. (I know. Those of you who know me are S*H*O*C*K*E*D.)

Which leads me to my second thought...

2. I'm different here. ---This also isn't necessarily a bad thing. I remember last summer when Kar-Kar told me that she loves the fact that I love the finer things in life, but yet I still choose to live in a place like the Ancient City. Or how one minute I can carry on a 45 minute discussion about the latest trends in head bands and the next minute you'll find me arguing my views of war and politics. This is me. Some times I think I have multiple personalities. (Think: Sybil. OK, don't. Watching that movie in Freshman Psych scared me.)

The point is, that I guess I have to change to live in this place. My dress, language, food, living conditions, independence, safety, etc.....none of it is the same. It can't be if I want to make a difference here. And you know what? That's ok. I'm learning (if ever so slowly) that those things don't define me. None of them are where I place my identity. None of these things give me value*or meaning*or purpose.

Donald Miller in "Searching for God Knows What" says this...

The circus, and I am talking about life now, really sucks. It feels like we all have these little acts, these stupid things we do that we all hang our hats on. The Fall has made monkeys of us, for crying out loud. Some of us are athletes and others of us are physicists, and some of us are good-looking and some of us are rich, and we all are running around, in a way, trying to get a bunch of people to clap for us, trying to get a bunch of people to say we are normal, we are healthy, we are good. And there is nothing wrong with being beautiful or being athletic or being smart, but those are some of the pleasures of life, not life’s redemption. –pg.175

So every now and then I need a reminder. A reminder that it doesn't matter what clothes I'm wearing. Or how far along I've come in learning this language. Or who thinks I'm funny. Or smart.

For those things? Well, they are just pleasures.

My redemption comes from Him. My identity is in Him. And you wanna know the coolest part?

Rumor has it, that HE's madly in love with me. Semi-psychedelic or not.