Label Makers
By Randy Knapp
When I was a young man, my
best friend’s mom made some disparaging assumptions about me and shared those
beliefs with her friends and family.
Years later I found out and was deeply wounded. Ever since then my relationship with her has
been strained.
A friend in his late twenty’s
stupidly chose to return the advances of a seventeen-year-old cheerleader. Later, he was convicted of statutory rape and
served several years in state prison for his momentary indiscretion. For the remainder of his life he will wear
the label “sexual predator.”
A soldier riding in the back
seat of a Humvee in Iraq saw a grenade come crashing through the window and
land on the floor at his feet. While the
other members of his unit jumped out of the vehicle to escape the death trap,
the soldier kicked the weapon under the seat to minimize the extent of the
explosion and then leapt toward safety.
The grenade detonated and shrapnel tore through the muscles and tendons
of his right foot. Months in the
hospital and numerous surgeries have restored some function to his injured leg,
but for the rest of his life every step will take its toll in pain. Though he may discount his selfless actions
that day and say he was just doing his job, those of us who know about the
event will always see him as a hero.
It is a common social habit
to label people. Whether the designation
is positive or negative, it matters little if the label is true. Stereotypical labels overshadow an individual’s
true character. “She’s too fat.” “He’s
too short.” “She is a perfect 10.” “He makes my knees weak.” Positive labels flatter us, though their
influence is often fleeting, while negative appellations may shadow us for a
lifetime like Eeyore’s persistent rain cloud.
I’ve never really liked my
name. My first name seems rather
ordinary, and I always have to spell my last name when I order merchandise over
the phone. My name was a label placed on
me at birth. I’ll carry it with me to my
grave, but I don’t think I’ll ever cherish it.
In the book of Revelation,
the apostle John describes an upcoming event in heaven to which I look forward
with eager anticipation. I’ll be
standing before God, knees knocking together, and He’ll lean forward and whisper
a name in my ear. It will be my new name
known only to God and to me. I have no
doubt that when God puts His label on me I’ll lean back with a sigh and say,
“Yes, that’s it. That is who I am. It’s who I’ve always wanted to be.”
Each of us will get such a
name. We’ll carry that name with
pride. We’ll know that finally someone,
for whom we have deep respect, really “gets” us. Finally, we’ll wear a label that truthfully
defines who we are.
Randy writes from Medford,
Oregon. knappsnest@msn.com