Presets

It's just another funny thing about being a widower.

This is what's so crazy about being a single parent.

That's the unique thing about being a person of color.

It's hard to understand if you're not a minister.

That's how it is if you're from a broken home.

We all have slots that we fall in to. Like presets on the car stereo, it's a default station that gets us to the frequency we want to hear. Expectations form a type of top-40 mix that pleases the ears of our audience as it perfectly fits the time signatures of every other hit single played earlier in the day.

And as we deal with other people, we punch the buttons. We hear what we want to hear on our favorite station. We're not going to take the time to listen to every station because we don't like every kind of music and we definitely aren't going to flick the tuner dial just to see where it lands because who knows what could happen?

The past few months has helped me realize that I'm more than just the presets. I'm more than my grief, my past, my skin color, my marital status and even my calling. What makes me unique and what makes me effective is that I'm all these things at once. There's even sometimes I inconveniently shift into the static of the in-between and I'm trusting that God knew what He was doing when He made me and that He's more than comfortable when I don't fall in the slots.

If you perceive me in one certain way, I don't blame you because it's human nature to jump to the presets. But for me--in this new season of my life--I'm ready for some surprises. I'm ready to spin the dial.  

I know the slots will always be there, even if they're not nearly as well-defined as society says they are. They really spill into every other, so I'm not looking for fundamental change. I'm looking to increase the bandwidth.

Let's go. God, I don't have to know everything.