Being Tacky

Tacky (tak--ee): adj. of poor taste or style

Did I really just use the "Online Slang Dictionary" to define that word? Why, yes, I did. Did I make up the pronunciation to make it look more official? Of course. Am I really starting my first blog ever like this? I'm just an hour away from that orange publish button.

I guess this is all to prove one point:  You could say that I'm a relatively tacky person. I would rather wear t-shirts and shorts than heels and dresses. I like apple sauce more than calamari. I'm more likely to get dirty than I am to brush my hair. I also enjoying reading more than I enjoy watching a football game. Being tacky comes as easily as breathing to me. I guess it's in my nature. 

I remember on the first day of junior high (Thank the Lord He got me through that!), I wanted everyone to see how much I changed. It played in my head like a movie: Everyone would turn their head and ask if I was new. I would walk through the halls in slow motion as they realized that the "new girl" was just a better version of the quiet girl who read books behind her backpack. I wanted everyone to know that I was a better version of myself, and I wanted them to forget whoever I was before. 

In reality, I was just as shy and just as awkward. Shocking, I know. I came in with my teeth wired up with blue and green braces and a forced smile which probably scared people away. I tried so hard to say the right things, do the right things, and wear the right things (which is absurd because we wore uniforms the whole time. I guess this is when I decided to stop matching a navy polo and navy pants together...). The one thing I didn't want to be was tacky. I found my worth in whether or not people thought I was acceptable. I found comfort in knowing that I had friends who saw past my imperfections. What I didn't realize was that my whole junior high class was tacky. Then, we all grew up and went to high school. And guess what. Nothing has changed. We just became bigger and tackier people.

We all have our shortcomings, our insecurities, and our quirks. To some people, we might be tacky, and, to others, we might be high-class. My point is not that people are just blind to our uniqueness and extraordinariness (<--- definitely just made that word up), and we must remember that we are secretly extraordinary. My point is that being tacky isn't such a bad thing. In fact, in 1 Corinthians, Paul tells us that God uses the things that the world considers tacky to shame the wise. (Of course Paul never used the word tacky because he didn't have access to Online Slang Dictionary) The more that I think about it, the more I realize that God's strength is truly made perfect in my weakness. My tackiness just shows how much more un-tacky God is. I think that's why my theme verse is II Corinthians 4:7--

"But we have this TREASURE in JARS OF CLAY to show that this all-surpassing power is FROM GOD and NOT FROM US."

I think that it would be "in bad style" to win the lottery, collect my reward, and put my check in an off-brand ziplock bag instead of a high-class vault. However, that's exactly what God chooses to do. The ziplock bag isn't valuable in itself, it's valuable because of what is inside it. We are not valuable because we have more to offer than the next person. We are valuable because HE MAKES US VALUABLE.

If you look up the word "tacky" on anything else besides the Slang Dictionary, you'll see that it's defined as "something glued together." In that sense, I guess all Christians are all a little tacky. (And no- not because of the "Jesus t-shirts", WWJD key chains, punny Bible jokes, etc.) By His grace, he glued the broken pieces of ourselves back together. The insecurities no longer matter because life isn't about us. It's not about us being the most beautiful clay jar in the world. It could be exhibited in museums and galleries, and it still wouldn't matter. It's still a clay jar, and it's useless until something is inside it. 

The world took what they considered "in bad taste" and broke it. God chose to glue those pieces back together, so that we're tacky by his definition. We are glued by the blood of his Son-- his redemption, grace, and mercy. Looking back, I wonder why I strove and sought comfort in being considered "not tacky". Now, I realize being tacky is the best thing I could be. Repaired and chosen by God, I consider it the highest honor in this life to be a tacky jar of clay.