my household is made up of misfits. that term conjures up mental images of the outcast and the maladjusted, the one who is always at odds with society. but in my house it isnt quite that way. rather, we are missfitted, but only in society’s accepted concept of fitting. in God’s eyes we are not so badly fitted at all.
in the old animated movie ‘rudolf the red nosed reindeer’ there is a place called the island of misfit toys. these toys are made all skrewy, and dont perform quite the way the others do. the most notible for me was always the doll with no name, who seemd on the outside to have nothing wrong with her. and yet nobody wanted her. so she was found on the island of misfit toys.
well in my household it isnt quite so forlorne. we are simply a motley crew of fits that miss.
you already know a bit about our most recent member, nosomi, formerly known as ms nibbles. she has a cleft palate, and might be a little – slow- but thats to be determined. having a mother who ingested people drugs – likely anti-psychotics – while kittens were in the oven, would make anyone a bit misfitting. her funny face is the most charming thing about her. well, that and her attitude. she already acts right at home, finding that the other cats and dogs here wont chase her off and pick on her.
then there is thor. also about five, and a big rugged boy with a sissy little ‘mee?’ voice. he loves the old kitties, and catered to spook when he was with us. now he is sammys bodyguard, and runs in any time gizmo acts like he wants to pick on sammy. he has a temper, but it is a flash in the pan, and he holds no grudges.
maggie is the psycho princess. six or seven year old adorable fluffball that can be so affectionate one minute, and flying off the next as if she has been threatened and insulted all in one move, and then looks back at you like ‘hmmpf! well!’ this often happens if she is on my lap, and i am so crude as to adjust my legs a bit. moments later she will be right back.
gizmo is the prima donna prince. saucey, sassy, and full of himself, he really thiks the world is here for his entertainment and convenience. in the morning he is there in the bathroom waiting for the water in the sink to be turned on for his drink. the he must be petted, and if he is not, he will tap you with his paw until you respond. the sink is his throne. he disdains every other cat. he would rather be run over by a running dog and complain about it than move out of the way. it is beneath him to move for dogs.
sammy is the reigning queen. even though she may not be strong enough to enforce her rule, only gizmo ever challenges it. and then thor is there to defend his dolly. the dogs think she smells like metamucil, and maggie is afraid of her.
cinnamon, a rescue dog of unknown age (maybe 5-6) is a goofy who knows what kind of dog. she seems to be part redbone hound, and maybe lab or shepherd. she is wild and crazy, loves to please but is so full of energy she could be the poster child for ADHD research. she is a smart dog. just lacking in common sense sometimes.
bougar is not so smart, but big on happy and loyal. she adores daddy, and i dont exist when he is in the room. ill be glad when her legs are strong again. she hates tomatoes.
a funny turtle, who after how many years now? still hisses at us on first approach. he loves slugs and worms, and various fruits and vegetables. funny old turtle. hates his winter glass box. even turtles get bored.
all that remains are two ringneck snakes, and three mice. i guess theyre pretty nominal, but the mice dont seem to want to be tamed. ok. fine.
the beau is my prime pet. ahaha! he is not the social type. but that suits me fine. he doent bring home weird guys from work. he is hyper sensitive to the security of the neighborhood, and better at squashing potential problems then the local police … who never show up until the problem is long gone anyway. we like to spar sometimes. he thinks its fun, and i learn self defense. i have thrown him a couple of times. i dont do things conventionally.
well that brings me to me. convention has never suited me. i dont dance to my own drummer … i do my own drumming. then i dance. dance, because i dont march. maybe thats why God called me the way He did. someone has to be able to get into those really weird places, and be able to talk to people of the more strange sort. i can. but God has had to really open my heart to receive from Him first. this was the hardest thing for me. overcoming the ‘feelings’ of ‘dont deserve it’ first. even then i wasnt conventional. most people feel they dont deserve something because of what they have done, or what they are. me? my biggest hang up has been confidence that i could receive. i could believe. but could i receive? or would i f*ck it up? well im finding that God can help me receive, even when i thinki i might mess it up and miss. God is so much bigger than me. and He wants me to be blessed more than i want to be blessed. people dont get that part about God. but i find it easy to understand, not being of the ‘normal Christian’ sort. God is King, and Lord, no doubt about it. but He is not hard to talk to.
anyway, the point is, no one in this house is fitting according to social norms. but im finding that to be an asset after all.