fingerprints

What was said: "I look at a thumbprint, and realize that no two are alike. If God can make every single thumbprint different, why would we think that he would ever stop there?"

I was floored! Such a simple idea, and so obvious, and yet so amazingly complex! There is no reason to think that any one of us is exactly like another. We, as humans, classify. Safe/Unsafe. Friendly/Unfriendly. Okay to eat/Poison. Work/Play. Love/Hate. Good/Bad. But aren't there various levels of many of these classifications? Don't we need to differentiate again and again, and determine, according to the occasion, just where something fits in our classification systems?

I remember a month or two before our boy #2 was born. I was pretty sure I had this kid thing figured out. Because the pregnancy itself had felt different, I just knew that the baby would not be the same as his brother. Boy #1 was pretty easy, as far as babies go--not the sleep-all-night-at-birth dream baby, but he did do pretty well as an infant, and as a toddler, he was fairly happy-go-lucky and even helpful. I just knew that boy #2 was going to be the opposite--whatever #1 liked, he would not; whenever #1 liked to sleep, #2 would want to be awake. I'm not even sure what "opposite" would mean, but at the time, I had some really clear ideas, and I was pretty confident about the whole thing. I had even braced myself for the inevitable difficulties of having two kids that just could not get along for long.

I had quite a surprise. In some ways, he was different--as he should be! But in other ways, they were very much alike. What I had not factored in was that they were each individuals who would let me know, in short order, who they are. I was there (am still) to guide them, not to determine them.

A similar thing happened when we decided to get a dog. It had been a few years since our beloved black standard poodle had died. When we saw black standards advertised, I told Guy that I just couldn't handle having a dog that looked so like the last one, but wouldn't have his same personality. Instead we got a poodle that was supposed to turn silver (he was born black), and never has. Yes, he shares some characteristics with his predecessor, but he also has his own personality--and quirks! I sometimes think he was meant to stay black as a lesson to me.

I've wandered far from the amazement I felt at the thumbprint statement, but not so far that I don't remember where I was. Each of us is different. Special. Unique. We should see ourselves that way. We should see others that way--the part that I tend to think is harder to do. I've just started reading Thomas Merton's No Man Is an Island for the Spiritual Book Club at church. From the prologue:
"I cannot discover God in myself and myself in Him unless I have the courage to face myself exactly as I am, with all my limitations, and to accept others as they are, with all their limitations."

To face myself, and accept others. How beautiful is that? Each of us has our own whirls and swirls, some of which mean baggage and tough stuff, but most of which means beauty and knowledge; if only we decide to appreciate it. We need to remember that some of the tough stuff has led to strength because it comes from experience. My head is rattling with the memory of the notes I took on palmistry for a paper I wrote in college (my topics were never quite what anyone else would choose....) inferring that the universe of "me" is largely pre-written on my hands, with details added with experience.

I don't know.....perhaps the possibilities were written there, and revealed by my choices. I'm still quite intrigued.....