December 2, 2009 - Long in the Bud

     I know of a little girl who, when born, was only a smidgen over 4 pounds. This little girl was the 20th of 22 children in her family. They were from Tennessee, the mother was a domestic worker, the father picked up odd jobs, and it seemed like these children were everywhere. Our little girl spent the bulk of her childhood in bed suffering through double-pneumonia, scarlet fever, and, finally, polio. She was fitted with leg braces at the age of 6. If you had seen her as a child, you would have shaken your head, mumbling something like One of twenty-two...," "Poor thing...," or, "What will happen to that poor girl?"
     I know of a boy who was believed to have been born in North Carolina, (nobody can say for sure), who was pulled all over the place, from cabin to cabin, where he was raised helping to clear trees and expending great energy farming what little the struggling family could farm. The boy was never formally educated. At the age of 23, the largest town he had ever seen had a population of no more than 100 people. He was gangly, (some might say ugly), and had worked as a migrant farmer, printer, candle-maker, blacksmith, harness-maker, woodcutter, and tall tale storyteller. If you had met this boy in a crowd, you would have stared but quickly moved away from him, since he did not look like a decent person with whom you would want to hang around.
     I know of a boy who was thrown out of three schools, lived in a broken home where his mother and father had frequent “live-ins," where alcohol was a constant problem, and where STDs finally took the life of his father at an early age. This boy was short, overweight, had no athletic ability, had difficulty reading, had no friends, and was pestered by all of his peers. Even though his family had great means, any savings were soon squandered on pointless living. If you had met him, you would have assumed that he was destined to failure and a place of mediocrity in life.
     Everyday, we pass by young people who are poor, unattractive, limited, lackluster, misfits on the street. We see them walking the malls, hustling our groceries to the car, serving us some fast food item at a drive-thru, playing a video game, filling a desk at school, or appearing altogether mediocre in every way. These young people do not come from the right families, have no obvious talents, have no cheerleaders applauding their accomplishments, are not popular, are not members of the select clubs, and may not be able to look you in the eye when they speak.
     But there is one intangible factor of these children that cannot be noticed at a casual glance. That often invisible factor that no one knows is the formidable grit in the constitution of these young people, the dream that hides behind their shy darting glance, the promise that is growing deep roots within their soul, the determination to do something great in their life, and the gifts that no one has taken the time to see. How do I know this? I know this, because the little sickly girl mentioned above is Wilma Rudolph, who in 1960 was the fastest woman in the world, winning three gold medals at the Rome Olympics and, then, going on to do great things for the cause of equal rights, becoming a strong role model for other youth and a national treasure. The young lanky, ugly, and lackluster man from obscurity was Abraham Lincoln. The hapless and truant child of a broken family was Winston Churchill.
     These children did not rise to their greatness due to nepotism (favored treatment due to family ties), appearance, preferential treatment, coddling, or favoritism. Our obscure misfits who became heroes, after showing no obvious gifts as children, rose to their positions and places in history due to factors that we are too blind to see.
     We see a person's value on the surface. We weigh a person's potential by using insignificant factors. We value beauty and stature, letting movie or TV stars, athletes, or super fashion-models become the spokespersons for morality, greatness, and faith. We vote for candidates who have a name, wealth, and a quick wit, overlooking the unconnected leader and gifted patriot holding quiet wisdom. We call people who know how to take tests “smart” and tag those who are a little long in the bud as being “slow” or “average”. We quickly box up the culled children in categories that "label," (but in no way "define"). 
     How do I know all of this? I know all of this, because I worship a God who knows our gifts, our drives, our potential, and our future. I worship a God who does not play the game of nepotism and appearance, but who weighs a person by a rich spirit, a name that is recognized by righteousness, and wisdom that bows to no façade of wit and shallow popularity. I worship a God who reveres only depth of faith, truth over beauty, and hope beyond despair. Jesus Christ is the eternal source of freedom from the little labels that imprison us on earth and the freedom to our fulfillment. When the world labels and limits us, Jesus Christ frees us.
Rev. Dan Martin is pastor of First UMC, Hendersonville. He can be reached at moose1953@hotmail.com