It’s my fourth consecutive night of sleeplessness. Tired has become the resounding theme in my head – I’ve counted sheep, but now I’m just counting the bags under my eyes.
There are some perks to insomnia…. I’m fully caught up on the first two seasons of White Collar, my Hotmail inbox is super-clean & I’ve had a lot of time to think. My most recent musings have been about labels. There are probably places where labels aren’t important, but in my neck of the woods labels mean something. People use labels to establish their identity. I’ve never been a trendsetter or wear the latest “it” brand (although I did once sport a really happenin’ Cabbage Patch backpack). But this idea of labels really hit me after a dinner party I hosted a few weeks back.
Some college guys had started attending my home church. Having been a college kid, not-so-long ago, I remember the appeal a non-cafeteria, home-cooked meal. So, one Sunday afternoon the guys came for lunch. Being from my alma-mater we quickly found common ground to talk about. But it wasn’t long before the topic of my kidney failure came up. You know, I always say, renal disease makes an excellent ice-breaker… But if you really want to get the party started tell them you can’t see. Are you taking notes yet? Despite what you might think I am not in the habit of self-sabotage. In my life normal really is only a setting on my dryer. While a semblance of normality is important to me and I never want to scare others away with my labels, I am a sum of my parts. I am of the opinion that it is better to be honest about the person God has created me to be, flaws & all.
I’m pretty sure my approach has scared some people away, but those that stick around know the truth & love me in spite of it. You know, not all labels are bad. In fact, there’s one that I hope is blatant & bold – this label reads ‘Child of the King’ and honestly, that label is the one worth having!
--V
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