What if you said “Yes” to your weirdness?

Weird: it’s definitely not a name we wanted to be called in junior high. Maybe not even now as adults. The word carries a sense of oddness, quirkiness, and the accompanying social dislocation of having those qualities.

Long ago, weird conveyed supernatural, mystical, and often frightening meaning. But weird isn’t synonymous with bad. In fact, in my new book, we’re going to return to its original definition. A close relative of the Old English wyrd, its meaning was akin to the idea of worth.

Who doesn’t need a little stronger sense of worth?

In these busy days, spent vying with the seven billion people on earth for jobs, resources, real estate, and recognition, we can feel lost in the crowd, unimportant, isolated in the midst of the throng.

We need to know that we still matter. That to someone, somewhere, we’re not just known but loved intentionally, wholeheartedly, deeply.

You know the way I’m talking about: the falling-in-love, time-stands-still, life-lives-in-their-smile kind of love. Everyone wants to feel that kind of unconditional affection from someone.

What if you were already living that kind of love? What if you could see yourself and the people all around you with the same twinkle in your eyes as the One who designed you does? 

As those of us who are parents know, we look at our kids and revel in the fact that they inherited our odd-looking toes or extra-big ears. Their quirks endear them to us. We love/hate those things about ourselves, but they’re part of us and seeing them reflected is wordless communication and connection with our children. It’s the same with God and our odd, annoying, or even quite challenging traits and tendencies. God wants to relate with us in every way he can. 

Really, this relating—this love—is our whole point in life. We were designed to be loved, desired, pursued. {tweet this}

We’re told God loves us “with a love that lasts forever. And so with unfailing love,” God says, “I have drawn you to myself” (Jeremiah 31:3). But life and its craziness crowd out this reality, this perspective. Author Emily Freeman explained this struggle to see love, saying, “Christ’s pursuit of me is more important than my pursuit of anything else.”

We can live on this crowded planet and do the next thing in front of us for a whole lifetime and miss it. We can pour our hearts into worthy pursuits, make a difference, raise our families . . . and miss it.

Every day we can look at ourselves in the mirror, see our weirdness and quirks, and miss it.

We can live entirely outside of what Paul said so clearly: “The greatest of these [investments, talents, gifts, challenges, hopes, and dreams] is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13). This love isn’t just toward what’s good in us; it’s toward all of us.

Our weird God loves us, his weirdo kids, like crazy, and it’s high time we start to see in ourselves what God has always seen: that our weirdness is wonderful. And that we’re loved more than we can imagine, right in the middle of it all.

{Excerpted from my new book, Why Your Weirdness Is Wonderful. To find out more about it or grab your copy, click here.}

-Laurie

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Comments

  1. Jared Buckley says

    I love where you are headed with this concept. I can only imagine your direction that you will go in this book. I have used many words to describe our life, but weirdness was not one. I just might jump on the bandwagon though.

    Looking forward to reading about the awesome weirdness in our lives.

  2. Kelli Wommack says

    Yes! Yes! Yes! One of my value statements for 2014: Lord, help me not to minimize or apologize for who You have created me to be. Help me to be me –

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