A Case of Mistaken Identity
Have you ever been mistaken for another person? Have you ever experienced the most awkward moment of all time? Come on, you know exactly the moment I'm referring to:
I'm talking about the moment when you catch someone kinda-sorta staring at you, seemingly completely interested in anything and everything you have to offer. You glance their direction, only to see that person smile, maybe putting a book or magazine down. You prepare your best cheeseball line because, guess what, that person is striding ever so slowly in your direction. Then, with less than one second before you release the line of the century you get the, "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else." Then, you nervously chuckle and wave, maybe even tip your cap. That is, only if you were able to stop yourself from saying what turns out to be the WORST line of the century. Lastly, if all else has already failed, you might even resort to the "tail between the legs" approach of, "Oh yeah, I get that often."
Needless to say, I've been the recipient of the "Oh, I thought you were someone else," a few times in my life, and never have I ever felt good about the mistake afterwards. Someone either thinks I'm another person, better looking and maybe a bit thinner, and gives away their mistake with laughter and giggling, or worse, someone thinks I'm the fat catcher from the Sandlot and asks me to recite the entire marshmallow scene (I should probably come up with a better response to this problem than, "You're killin' me, Smalls")
Truth is, it's hard to be the focus of a mistaken identity. There's no way to protect yourself from the situation, or any fool-proof way of handling an "identity assaulter." But recently, I have found hope in mistaken identities. Actually, just this week, I came to the conclusion that a case of mistaken identity could actually be a good thing.
My entire Tuesday was spent on the way to, in the park of, or on the way home from Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio. As the youth pastor with a concentration on Junior High, it was my responsibility to keep all 6th, 7th, and 8th graders alive and happy for the ten hours we were at the park. We rode a few coasters, I cried a few tears, and we played games like no other. With just under two hours left in the park, it happened...
I was sitting at a bench by the Calypso, a smaller ride similar to the Teacup Ride at other parks. Two of the girls in my youth group (who happened to look a lot alike) were riding and waving every time they saw me. I waved back and high-fived them as they ran back in line. Just then, a man came to me and asked me if it was Twin Day in the park.
Me: Ummm, I don't know. May I ask why?
Guy: Those girls. They're twins, no?
Me: Nope, just two friends in my youth group. I can see it though.
Guy: Your youth group? Haha.
Me: Missing the humor...
Guy: I thought they were your twin daughters. The way you were watching and encouraging, I thought you were a young father.
Me: (gulp)
In all honesty, I wrestled with the conversation for a while. I kept patting my balding spot, thinking it was getting worse, and I must've checked my goatee four times for signs of white/gray hairs. But on the bus ride home, I took the time to analyze the conversation, and it actually means a lot to me.
I'm not a dad. I know, it's a shock. It's just kind of an impossibility since I'm not married and I'm not partaking in activities that could lead to having kids until I am. However, I feel that God is preparing me every day to be a better leader as a husband and father. As different moments pass, I see how God is using them to make me think of how similar circumstances will affect my family. God truly used this man to encourage me in this process. Rather than being upset that my hair is thinning or that my beard is turning white, I'll choose to be encouraged because this man thought I was a father because of how I acted. He saw something in me that he relates to fatherhood, and that's exactly how I want to be seen.
I'm not trying to be a father to the kids in youth group, but I want them to know that I want to fight with and for them. I want them to feel safe in a Cedar Point-sized park with me, and know that I won't let anything happen to them. I want them to know that I care about their days and things they're going through. I'm just a man trying to lead as I've been led. If that looks like a dad, then I will never be upset at that kind of mistaken identity.
His,
Bob
PS...For those who have been praying, the Junior High youth group reached 24 kids this week. This is a whopping 17 more than on our first meeting at the beginning of the summer. 24 kids on a weekly basis are learning biblical principles and truths and commenting about how they're applying them to their lives.
I'm talking about the moment when you catch someone kinda-sorta staring at you, seemingly completely interested in anything and everything you have to offer. You glance their direction, only to see that person smile, maybe putting a book or magazine down. You prepare your best cheeseball line because, guess what, that person is striding ever so slowly in your direction. Then, with less than one second before you release the line of the century you get the, "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else." Then, you nervously chuckle and wave, maybe even tip your cap. That is, only if you were able to stop yourself from saying what turns out to be the WORST line of the century. Lastly, if all else has already failed, you might even resort to the "tail between the legs" approach of, "Oh yeah, I get that often."
Needless to say, I've been the recipient of the "Oh, I thought you were someone else," a few times in my life, and never have I ever felt good about the mistake afterwards. Someone either thinks I'm another person, better looking and maybe a bit thinner, and gives away their mistake with laughter and giggling, or worse, someone thinks I'm the fat catcher from the Sandlot and asks me to recite the entire marshmallow scene (I should probably come up with a better response to this problem than, "You're killin' me, Smalls")
Truth is, it's hard to be the focus of a mistaken identity. There's no way to protect yourself from the situation, or any fool-proof way of handling an "identity assaulter." But recently, I have found hope in mistaken identities. Actually, just this week, I came to the conclusion that a case of mistaken identity could actually be a good thing.
My entire Tuesday was spent on the way to, in the park of, or on the way home from Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio. As the youth pastor with a concentration on Junior High, it was my responsibility to keep all 6th, 7th, and 8th graders alive and happy for the ten hours we were at the park. We rode a few coasters, I cried a few tears, and we played games like no other. With just under two hours left in the park, it happened...
I was sitting at a bench by the Calypso, a smaller ride similar to the Teacup Ride at other parks. Two of the girls in my youth group (who happened to look a lot alike) were riding and waving every time they saw me. I waved back and high-fived them as they ran back in line. Just then, a man came to me and asked me if it was Twin Day in the park.
Me: Ummm, I don't know. May I ask why?
Guy: Those girls. They're twins, no?
Me: Nope, just two friends in my youth group. I can see it though.
Guy: Your youth group? Haha.
Me: Missing the humor...
Guy: I thought they were your twin daughters. The way you were watching and encouraging, I thought you were a young father.
Me: (gulp)
In all honesty, I wrestled with the conversation for a while. I kept patting my balding spot, thinking it was getting worse, and I must've checked my goatee four times for signs of white/gray hairs. But on the bus ride home, I took the time to analyze the conversation, and it actually means a lot to me.
I'm not a dad. I know, it's a shock. It's just kind of an impossibility since I'm not married and I'm not partaking in activities that could lead to having kids until I am. However, I feel that God is preparing me every day to be a better leader as a husband and father. As different moments pass, I see how God is using them to make me think of how similar circumstances will affect my family. God truly used this man to encourage me in this process. Rather than being upset that my hair is thinning or that my beard is turning white, I'll choose to be encouraged because this man thought I was a father because of how I acted. He saw something in me that he relates to fatherhood, and that's exactly how I want to be seen.
I'm not trying to be a father to the kids in youth group, but I want them to know that I want to fight with and for them. I want them to feel safe in a Cedar Point-sized park with me, and know that I won't let anything happen to them. I want them to know that I care about their days and things they're going through. I'm just a man trying to lead as I've been led. If that looks like a dad, then I will never be upset at that kind of mistaken identity.
His,
Bob
PS...For those who have been praying, the Junior High youth group reached 24 kids this week. This is a whopping 17 more than on our first meeting at the beginning of the summer. 24 kids on a weekly basis are learning biblical principles and truths and commenting about how they're applying them to their lives.
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