I feel awkward and like I laugh at the wrong things and react in weird ways and don't care enough about some stuff and most of all just feel enormous next to my friends - like a human among elves (er - usually more insulting metaphors spring to mind). I've always been taller, bigger, with an in-the-way cloud of much frizzier hair. While my friends would pick out a princess to dress up as, I always felt like I had more in common with, say, Gaston than Belle.
So I shared it too, and the weirdest thing started happening. All these beautiful, delightful, lovely friends (the ones among whom I feel like such a braying donkey) chimed in that they felt that way too.
But, wait, what? How? We can't all be the odd one out. If we're all feeling like the one that doesn't fit in, well, then none of us are actual outsiders ... if we all feel like we're on the outside, then that's the thing we have in common, that's precisely how we understand one another.
I think that's one of the reasons Jesus was born an outsider too - painfully literally. No room for Him in the inn. Sorry, little fella, you haven't even been born yet and already you don't belong here.
Because we've all got this ache in our hearts, this fear and feeling of not being good enough, same enough, small enough, bright enough, whatever enough. And Jesus came to us to bring us all in. The good news is not about being enough. It's that He's enough.
And He came as an outsider because He knows - He knows - and He invites us all in.
From the very beginning He was told He didn't belong. But He makes us welcome - He's the way, the door, and He has set our feet in a large room. He spreads His arms wide and invites us all gladly.
Yeah.
There's room.
No matter what kind of an outsider you think you are, or how much space you think you take up.
The last page of Scripture rings with the invitation:
Whoever is thirsty, let him come and drink of the water of life freely.
Whosoever will.
There's room.
Merry Christmas, friends.
xo.
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