Who is the same as what?

Who is the same? What is it to be the same? I am certainly not the same! The same as what? The same since when?

I am reminded of the time when Tiffany, our oldest went to Preshool, or Joyschool, as it was called. We lived on Okinawa. We as mothers, alternated teaching the children twice a week. I have a photograph of a blonde curly headed Tiffany, sitting with her friends - one black, one Japanese, one with brown hair, one with blue eyes etc. Which one is the same? They were all wonderful children. Each and every one a child of God and loved by Him.

It is the beauty of mankind that we have been given a variety of talents, different looks and a multitude of abilities and personality traits.

My father was good with music. As a young man he wanted to join the Salvation Army and play music in their band, but when he found out that they all wore the same uniform, he changed his mind. He was certainly not the same - not by a long shot.

I felt the same as a teenager. I did not want to dress the same as my friends in school. Did that make me a rebel? Maybe. But it made me feel like I was me - not someone who disappeared in the crowd.

It has made it easier for me to understand, when our children have wanted to be different. It's all in the family!

I am still trying to find out who God intends me to be.

(Water Color "Blomster-Line" by Heidi Morrell Andersen)