Occasionally a people-person

I'm not a very nice person.

Seriously. 

I'm not a "people person."  In fact, most people annoy me.

I wish I could say I enjoy interacting with large groups, that I am the life of the party, but I just can't.

My husband can.

He LOVES people. He always assumes the best of them.  He's not quick to judge.  He gives others the benefit of the doubt.

There are some people I like to be around. Usually they are like me. Questioning. Slightly pessimistic. Sarcastic.  Although, my friend Katie is nothing like me and I like her very much.

Maybe it's because she reminds me of my husband, whom I usually adore. Those rare moments I don't adore him are influenced by his ADD tendencies so I reason they really aren't who he is. They are externally controlled.  It's not really his fault it takes him eight months to change a doorknob or can't remember which brand of organic, sugar-free/chemical free sprouted spelt tortillas to buy.

I spent the better part of my youth and young adulthood trying to be not me.

I desperately wanted to be Brittany Murphy. Well, I desperately wanted to be what my perception of her was.

Laid-back, fun, outgoing, adventurous and bubbly (the fact that she was thin and cute didn't hurt things either.)

But I just wasn't and no matter how hard I tried I wasn't able to be.

Our culture glamorizes spontaneity. It's all about the laissez faire (not to be confused with the economic theory, which I'm a big fan of.)

I'm laissez faire-less.

Always have been. 

The church recommends being nice to everyone all the time and never giving your opinion, especially at a pot-luck, if it may cause someone to be offended.

I never got that right.

I seem to always be offending people. I don't intentionally set out to do so, of course, but it happens. 

I have strong opinions. I'm passionate about my opinions. I assume everyone else in Southern Ohio likes to debate as much as I do, so I give my opinions. 

I expect a response, but usually get a blank look and quiet pause.

In case you haven't noticed in my previous postings, I'm a bit of a perfectionist. I'm never really satisfied with who I am or what I've done. I don't think it's a good quality, but I can't seem to shake it.

Please don't throw Christian psychobabble at me. Maybe I haven't discovered who I am in Christ. Maybe I don't appreciate the concept of grace. Maybe I never got enough attention from my earthly father and I've transfered those feelings of inadequacy onto my heavenly father (just an example, Dad. I don't really think that.)

I've heard all the theories armchair Christian psychologists like to use.

The truth is this is who I am. Nobody makes decisions and choices in a bubble. Your personality, childhood, history, hormones, diet and experiences all work together to shape who you become. 

Here's the thing though. Just because I don't like to be in big groups, I'm not always smiling like Julia Roberts, I don't view the world through rose-colored glasses and I think Pollyanna was delusional doesn't mean I'm less of a Christian.

I mean, sometimes the cup really isn't half-full. Sometimes it's not even half-empty. Sometimes it's actually totally empty and the person holding it doesn't want some some random, taken-out-of-context scripture thrown at them and pat little answer that, "God will work things out."

Sometimes what people want and need are a little dose of realism and practicality. They want a a prayer that doesn't assume God is a genie, ready to abide by our will.

They want a hug (just don't hug me if I don't know you...please, I much prefer the NY way of air kisses), a presence, an ear.

When I'm nice to people and that niceness isn't the societal niceness I'm forced into most of the time, but a niceness that bubbles within me and demonstrates itself in an other-worldly compassion, it really is other-worldly. 

I know when God's spirit is moving on me to reach out to someone because it is so contrary to my nature.

If I look at a person and instead of automatically thinking, "Wow, what were they thinking wearing that jacket out in public with those jeans?" or "Dental care must really be a low-priority in England" but instead think "They seem so broken, my heart feels ready to weep" or "I bet they dress so immodestly because they've sustained so much hurt. In fact, I feel their hurt" I know, really know, that Holy spirit is whispering to my heart. 

I'm able to lay aside my human frailty and reach out in true compassion that is God-inspired.

At that point I'm a people person, but only because He was one first and thought it may be quite nice to watch someone be touched by a person that normally doesn't like to touch people.