My new mouth is dry

I'm wondering if I talk too much at Reformed Intern lunches. My jaw feels tired. But perhaps it is the flu shot talking. Then again, I bet I could blame all of my future dysfunction on the flu shot.

Here's my abnormally long confession>>
Sitting at Old Town Bapt. yesterday, I began think about how hard it must be to be a new Christian, walk in to that church, and know that that is what Christians are to look like (well dressed, moderately friendly, mostly old). I sat in my comfortable, wooden pew praising myself be being considerate and giving new believers a chance to grow and not be forced into the image of Christ without the benefit of time.

Then, I began to remember this picture I saw over the weekend. In case you hadn't heard, the first ever partial face transplant took place in France. This poor woman was deformed from a pretty severe dog attack (a whole other story). Doctors convinced her that she couldn't survive in the world without having a normal face. So part of it changed (with their help, of course). Her new face is now a hybrid -- her old face + part of a donor's face.

For the rest of her life, she will take pills to keep her body from rejecting the new tissue. She will undergo speech therapy and learn how to speak with her new lips. She will retrain the muscles in her face to react differently and show various expressions. And most of all, she will look different.

In my moment of self-righteousness, I forgot how I that I too am a new person, yet I'm probably better described as the same "old" person with a new face. Everything inside of me wants to reject the new part, but I struggle and surround myself with the "right" culture and train my new features to look like those around me. My world (my Christian world) says that I should conform. My God says to let Him be Lord. My new mouth has been trained to praise, but yesterday, I began to wonder if I am any different. [to be concluded later in life? >> ]

{free-formed thinker}