By Marianne Wood

Lily intimidates me. Every time she calls, I feel panic rise in my guts. She will ask me questions I do not comprehend.

Falstaff has a lovely, resonant voice but also makes me uncomfortable. This may be because of his deep bass instructions and seemingly great size. I usually understand him, but I shake a little as I reply.

Lucie seems harmless on first approach. She runs a talk show like Lily, but I think she spends too much time imagining crimes that don’t exist. She’s very suspicious and makes me look at my heart for clues to my own mischief.

I’ve barely gotten to know Vikram and Zari in the market, but they seem very pleasant. Perhaps they will share more about themselves in the future. I hope so.

Finally, Junior’s high-pitched voice is sometimes hard to understand. His tone and behavior remind me why I prefer to work with older students. I love little people, but they are better off being taught by those who speak Toddler Greek.

Other characters in this play presented through Duolingo – an app for learning languages – represent typical people we may often encounter. The ones I described are some of the personalities that remind me of real people I’ve met or know well and how challenging it can be to navigate social activities. Small groups in church often bring together such diverse people.

According to one pastor I know, church is a gathering of people who would not spend time together except for their shared love of Christ. Natural enemies, sometimes. So when I was asked recently by a close friend to explain how to handle a hard situation, one of those oppositional experiences, I gave her my very best answer: “You are the only person who gets to be you. And God needs you to be you to accomplish His work.” I could sense the pent-up air leaving her lungs. Maybe that’s because mine left, too. I love this truth to pieces.

Whenever I encounter a complicated relationship, the resolution for loving the person usually comes down to accepting our differences and the freedom to be who God made us to be. This attitude of acceptance and freedom seldom completely solves the riddle of irregular friendships, but the concept helps tremendously. Joyce Landorf (later Heatherly) wrote about it in her book Irregular People. I read it in the late 1980s in its original 1982 edition. I needed it then and now.

Made in the image of God, stamped, if you will, so that there’s no mistaking the origins of our template, we come from “the print shop” with all manner of defects, though some are much finer renditions of the Creator than others! 

Most of us have noticeable flaws. Others show up under a magnifying glass or appear when we put our prints in a different light than the gallery owner had. This happened with a screen print I purchased from a friend whose mother had previously owned it. Installed in my home, it looks even better than when I first saw it–a charming portrait of a cat on a sofa. An art student friend recently commented on its many layers, helping me appreciate it even more. And my memory of a short printmaking course the artist gave me years ago greatly enriches the work. 

Knowing someone for a long time, warts and all, helps us see past their irregularities. We take them in a different light. Then we can see His imprint and understand how He is using them just the way He made them.

I plan to keep learning from my Duolingo friends, but more importantly, from the regular and irregular humans that God brings my way. I delight in the knowledge that I am fearfully and wonderfully made to express His image to others through the gifts he gives. We each have important roles to play.

Marianne Wood works as an editorial assistant and researcher for Bill Wright