“Do you ever miss being normal?”
If I’m incredibly honest, I’ve wondered that same question when people with particular disabilities wander into my life. Whatever their ‘normal’ is, it appears to be the epitome of uncomfortable, so my ever-curious brain forms the question. Though I don’t voice the question; the underlying implied “truth” speaks volumes.
Obviously, my normal is better than yours. You poor thing.
Recently, a young individual was explaining to me their experience with a disabled friend. In complete innocence, they included the fact that this friend’s ‘sister is normal, though.’ I chuckled… and then I choked back tears. Without invitation, my mind started ranting over how easily we unintentionally allow our hearts to declare a person less than…
Less than what? Normal? Less than us? Subhuman?
Oh, may I be more careful with my words. May I remember that for every innocent phrase uttered with implied intention rather than loving purpose there is someone’s heart which will pay for my carelessness.
“Normal” is just a phrase to many people, including me. But for many, it’s a slap in the face and a reminder that their surrounding culture has stopped remembering they have dreams, emotions, aspirations, joys and sorrows.
Our concept of pitied abnormality is often times God’s concept of honorable perfection.