How do we celebrate the gift of God’s nearness? Continue reading
Is your brain constantly buzzing? Mine, too. Join me in finding some purpose in silence. Continue reading
What does a perfectionist writer need? The struggle of plagiarism vs. influence is real in writing. For an honest peek into my heart, watch me struggle through that tension thanks to a Five Minute Friday prompt. Continue reading
In college, I couldn’t write for a while because I was in a battle with doubt. Here’s a testimony to God’s grace. Continue reading
[This post was originally written in March 2013, but it was updated significantly in August 2019.]
What does being oddish mean?
Oddish became a part of my family’s vocabulary during a conversation with my parents when I was a freshman in high school. We were discussing how many of our family’s decisions might seem odd to people. Of most note during that conversation was that I had switched from a more traditional form of schooling to be homeschooled for high school.
Prior to that decision, my family had stuck out from the crowd for several other reasons. First was the work situation in our house. My dad is self-employed, running a photography business out of our home. Meanwhile, my mom has a career outside of the home. On top of that, our home itself was out in the country, and my dad also grew a large, almost farm-like garden. At the time, we also didn’t have cable TV, didn’t have a ton of tech toys, and weren’t into sports. We were a quirky family living out in the country.
Oddish, then, was a word we used (1) to describe our family’s brand of quirk and (2) an extension of our relationship with Jesus, acknowledging that, regardless of personal convictions, quirk, or culture, we stand out sometimes as His followers.
But, since I started this blog, God has taught me a lot about what it means to be “in the world and not of it,” a part of what is implied in the term oddish.
I now think of being oddish as separation infused with flesh-and-blood hope. I started this blog with a focus on the separation part. During my time here, I learned to focus on the hope part. Being oddish has elements of separation just because of the Christian call to holiness, yet it shouldn’t shy away from that which is flesh-and-blood—because Jesus didn’t. Jesus came in the flesh to save from sin, He was resurrected in the flesh…and He promises to raise those who trust in Him—in the flesh. The problem isn’t the world or flesh categorically—the problem is the sin that taints, breaks, and leads to death.
So, being oddish is about being distinctly Christian—which simultaneously means sometimes-separation (because of sin) AND being right in the middle of the action of ministry, truth, and love (because of the hope of resurrection).
These days, being oddish looks different for me. I live in a city with my Jesus-loving husband, Kevin. We work as writers/editors and love sharing the truth of the flesh-and-blood hope of our Lord and Savior. Sometimes we stick out—sometimes we seem too liberal, sometimes too conservative. Our goal is simply to follow Jesus—sharing the good news of His kingdom as a pair of quirky, broken, and rescued people.