Oddballs

“Missy,” my father once said to me.  “Missy, you always manage to surround yourself with the dam-dest collection of oddballs.”

Ahh, but sometimes God’s treasures come giftwrapped in the most wonderfully unusual packages.

Like Vanessa, a giant of the faith. A giant in other ways, too. Her hair was a forest fire, her laughter was an earthquake. She loved me like a child loves a favorite song. Patient as a St. Bernard, she showed me it’s ok to be myself.

Like Tommy. To know him was to love him, for who doesn’t love the court jester? Clownish, carefree, he didn’t have an ounce of sense. With a faith as simple as a rainbow, he cheered for me, my every victory his own. Placid as a sailboat, he let me laugh at him. He taught me how to laugh at myself.

And Lucy, unloved and unlovely, forever searching for a way to belong. With a heart of gold and a faith as fragile as a China doll, she loved me like a daisy loves the rain. Her confidence in me helped me have confidence in me, too.

Odd ducks. These friends I connected myself to. These friends who connected themselves to me.  Debbie the giver and Charli the taker. Zoe the cause seeker and Tess the dream maker. They were Christmas every day, presents gift wrapped by God Himself.

Wierdos. I love them. I am one of them.

In fiction and in life, characters make the world go round. Make this beautiful world go round.