Living as Holy Oddballs

In less than two months, I’ll be heading out to speak at an event for women who serve internationally. Those who know me know I consider this to be my sweet spot. In spaces like this, I’ve found my niche—and for about ten days, I feel an unmistakable sense of belonging.

In many ways, it gives me a glimpse of what heaven might be like… that place I will ultimately call home, surrounded by my people.

And yet, it also vividly reminds me that—for now—this world is not my home.

As I’ve prayed about the messages I’ll bring to these women, I keep sensing that this is exactly where I need to land: acknowledging, claiming, and even pre-determining the “how-to” of living as outliers while we reside temporarily in this world.

I’ve chosen the book of 1 Peter as my primary biblical foundation, though from Genesis to Revelation this theme is everywhere. There’s no shortage of insight to glean. As I’ve bounced around Scripture, digging into the lives of formative individuals who add more insight to Peter’s words, one thing has become clear: not much has changed from the opening chapters of Genesis until now.

Human nature is remarkably consistent.

We are still deeply affected by what I’ll call the but-I-want-to-be-like-the-nations-around-me syndrome. Sadly, there is no vaccine for this disease.

I’m reminded of my children—when they were younger, of course—pleading their case with airtight logic: “But Mom, everybody’s going…doing…wearing…listening…watching…” I get it. None of us wants to stand out as peculiar.

And yet—Peter asks us to do exactly that; and, not only to embrace this identity, but to celebrate it. To make peace with it. To receive it as a gift (shocking, I know)!

In essence, Peter says to his audience as his letter is read aloud: God has called you out. He has chosen you. You are sojourners, exiles, foreigners—and you will be until heaven. Then he adds language that can definitely unsettle us: a holy nation, a peculiar people, pilgrims.

Lean into those words. Acknowledge them. Accept them.

You—and I—are privileged to be social misfits; for we are citizens of another Kingdom. Strangers here. We are meant to be uncomfortable, unsettled, non-conforming, different.

As I was writing this, I opened ChatGPT (my go-to research team) to ask for help with a title. I think I could hear "Chat" rolling on the floor laughing with the prompt response:

Living as Holy Oddballs

Well… there it is. And honestly, Chat might be right. There is much to think about when it comes to this identity—most importantly this question: 

What does it look like to live out our faith on foreign soil?

Let's explore this over a few Thursdays. This is a good space for me to process the messages I’ll be sharing (thanks!).

For now, I’ll leave you with one thought to ponder.

Years ago—probably back in the ancient era of 1976—I read a prayer and jotted it down in a journal I’ve held onto ever since. It reads:

“How can I stand, O God, for what I believe and not stand out as peculiar?
I don’t want to call attention to myself, cause trouble to others, or embarrass them;
but I do pray that through all the changes of life down to the gates of death,
You will keep me true to myself, true to those I love, and true to Thee. Amen.”

In light of 1 Peter, I now think this might be the wrong prayer to pray.

What if we reshaped this prayer to reflect the heart of God's servant writing to exiles scattered across Asia Minor?

O God of Exiles,
let me stand for what I believe without compromise,
knowing I will stand out as peculiar.
Set-apart people, by virtue of Your calling, will draw attention—
but may that focus quickly shift from me to You.
May others see Jesus in me.
And may I remain true to the convictions I hold,
loving You and loving others, and living holy, as I am called to do. Amen.