My oldest son thinks it's silly to act like his younger brother. It's fun for him to pretend he's a baby, and usually they both get a kick out of it. He'll start babbling back and forth, speaking baby-talk with his little brother, and they'll just laugh and laugh because they have some sort of secret language going on. But, sometimes it gets a little out of hand and I end up with two babies around the house. Instead of a helpful big brother and a curious little brother I have two exploring infants.
In these moments I really miss my older son. It's almost like he disappears under a disguise and I have to dig him back out. I usually tell him I miss him and that I want him to be himself again. I don't want two little brothers. I want a big brother and a little brother.
Both of their personalities are so different. My oldest is inquisitive and imaginative. He's a thinker and he loves figuring out how things work. When I watch him play he takes his time and figures out an entire scenario before he acts it out. He's observant. My youngest, on the other hand, is more of a go-getter. He's more confident and more trusting in people he meets for the first time. He has persistency when he knows what he wants, yet, he also listens well to instructions and warnings. My oldest loves playing with cars and trucks and my youngest loves shapes and the play-kitchen. I could go on and on, but you get the point. They're different.
My youngest's individuality gets overlooked a lot. I think it's because he's the younger brother. It's a weird thing to say, especially because he's only one-year old. But, seriously. Sometimes I feel upset when people say things like, "Oh, he's just like his brother!" or "He's exactly like 'so-and-so'!" or "He reminds me so much of 'fill-in-the-blank'". I know I shouldn't feel upset, but it bothers me. It bothers me when people don't take the time to know him the way I know him. But, how could they? I'm his mom. I know him better than anyone else (for now anyways). I can see his uniqueness. I can see his individuality, and not everyone can. They're too busy comparing him to what's familiar to them rather than getting to know who he really is.
As a musician who writes original works this happens to me often. If someone hears me sing, or hears a song that I wrote, they feel compelled to tell me how much I sound like someone else. I think it's supposed to be a compliment. I try to take it as flattery, but it really just makes me feel mediocre and same-old-same-old.
I'm guilty of this too. Anytime I see something unique I try and understand it and familiarize it through association. Comparison helps me feel like I know something or someone I don't really know. The truth is, I don't know much at all. I just think I do. And, comparison helps me work more efficiently. If I can get the gist of someone I don't really have to get to know them. (Why do I feel like I just placed a dagger in my own heart? Holy Spirit conviction, maybe?)
Maybe I should start using my urge to compare as a signal to get to know someone (or about something) more. Because, if all I can do is compare someone to someone else than I lessen who that person really is. I lessen who God made them to be. I give them a ceiling on who they can be, and what they'll ever mean to me. I take away from who God intended them to be.
Each of us is unique. We're all different. Sure, we all have similarities. We may like the same foods or we may have the same tastes in music, but none of us are exactly the same as anyone else. Even identical twins are unique. To say that anyone is exactly like anyone else really limits the creativity of a limitless God.
We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. I am fearfully and wonderfully made. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. And, no one knows us as well as our Creator. But, the closer we are to God, the closer we are to each other, and the more we can see each other, and ourselves, the way God sees us--fearfully and wonderfully made.
'You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand— when I awake, I am still with you.'
Psalm 139:1-18
Comments