Want a snapshot into my thought process? Here you go.
image by Beaty Bass
Me: I could write a blog off of this thought:
If you’re not funny, don’t try to be.
Because I read something the other day where someone was trying to be funny, and they weren’t. It was painful.
My brain: But you write things that you think are funny. And they’re not. So they’re painful.
Me: Ouch.
My brain: Don’t judge people on a funniness scale.
Me: I don’t mean to jud…
My brain: And who made you the funny judge, anyway?
Me: …
My brain: And isn’t “funny” subjective? What’s funny to you may not be funny to everyone.
Me: Well, ok. But some things just aren’t funny. Case-in-point: well, um…I can’t think of one right now. But you know what I mean.
My brain: You mean that there are some things that just aren’t universally funny. Right?
Me: Yeah.
My brain: There you go again. Judging “funny” purely by what you find “funny.”
Me: But why would someone write something intending to be funny, when they’re not?
My brain: Hey, you don’t have to read their stuff…
Me: I guess not, but…
My brain: No, you don’t. Just quit reading.
Me: I guess you’re right. Nobody is forcing me to read. That would be weird if they did.
My brain: Don’t you write from your own experiences?
Me: Yes.
My brain: And aren’t your experiences sometimes funny to you?
Me: Yes.
My brain: Boom! Then you just contradicted yourself. You’re funny to you, but not to everyone. Isn’t this what you’re frustrated with other writers about?
Me: I suppose…
My brain: And are you forcing anyone to read your stuff?
Me: I sure hope not.
My brain: What kind of an answer is that? It’s either a “yes” or a “no.”
Me: I guess that realizing there are countless voices out there, and that those non-funny funny guys can have their voice, too, is good.
My brain: Finally. You get it. It doesn’t matter. They’re funny to someone.
Me: Be who you are, and let others be who they are. Hey, I think I’ll Twitter that. Wait, no. I’m having an important internal dialogue right now. Stick with it.
My brain: What just happened right there?
Me: Sorry. …But can’t I be a little critical? Bust on people a little when they’re not funny?
My brain: Nope. Again…you’re not that funny to most people.
Me: Ok, ok…I get it. I’m not funny either. Will you lighten up already?
My brain: You need to lighten up. Give people the freedom to express themselves however they want.
Me: Fair enough.
See what I have to deal with? Here’s my own takeaway from my own thought process:
I’ll let you be you.
In fact, let me take that one step further.
Please, please…you be you.
We need you. Your brand of humor. Your style of relating. Your way of leading. Your ideas, passions, giftings, and set of failures. Your training, your taste, and your family dynamics.
Don’t be me. I won’t be you.
And, I promise…I won’t judge you for being you.
Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ’s body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. In his grace, God has given us different gifts for doing certain things well. (Romans 12:4-6)
