Special

Pascal's friend at school gave him a well-loved and very crumpled Pokemon card. 

Pascal knows nothing about Pokemon, but he knows the big kids love it. And his friend told him the card was special, so he absolutely treasured it. Three different times this weekend he pulled it out of his backpack and showed it to me, saying, "look at my card. Isn't it special? Don't you love it?" 

Sam, of course, being more familiar with Pokemon, knows more about them. 

When Pascal was showing me the card again this morning as we were climbing into the van, Sam overheard Pascal calling it special.

"That's a ripoff," he told Pascal, "it's not really special."

And Pascal's face fell.

Because there is no voice more authoritative and important to a little kid than their Big Sibling.

When I came back home, I found the Pokemon card crumpled in the driveway.

And like -

Guys.

Careless words can shave joy off a life in the blink of an eye.

Will Sam remember this morning's brief conversation? Not likely. Will it play in Pascal's head every time he encounters a Pokemon card?

I mean - my big sisters probably have no idea how much their opinions and tastes influence me. My favourite authors are their favourite authors, my favourite recipes are the ones they loved, my favourite music is the music they played in their cars. And my dislikes are their dislikes. Did someone say something mean to one of my sisters a million years ago? I still dislike that person. Do they think something is funny? I think it's hilarious. Did I believe their words like gospel, no matter how trifling? You bet.

Obviously, it's less common now that we don't live under the same roof. But in my formative years, any of their likes or dislikes were the mould I poured myself into. But maybe because I treasured their opinions so much, I began to ignore my own opinions of myself. Maybe listening to them without question made me listen to all of my critics without question.

One of my most damaging habits is letting any criticism into my heart, whether it is groundless or not, and carving myself around it. But the Lord brought it sharply to my attention this year and reminded me I do not need to let that in. I do not need to let all criticism flood in, willy-nilly, and wash my unique self away just because someone else throws careless words in my path.

Check out this excellent verse in Proverbs:  It is a badge of honour to accept valid criticism. (chapter 10 verse 4)

Not all criticism.Valid criticism.

I need to take the time to hold up criticism to the light, look it over. Is it valid? If it is - then I can get to work. Valid criticism makes me the best version of me - attunes my heart to be more like His, makes my hands busy with creating, makes my voice speak words like honey- sweet and nourishing. 

Invalid criticism, though? It doesn't belong here. It has no place living in my heart, crumpling me up and changing me into a less true version of me. I can ignore that freely.

So pick up the card, Pascal. Smooth it out and tuck it back into your backpack. It was given in love, and received with love.

While he is often right, this time your brother was wrong, and your friend was right:

It is special.