“My name is Sayid Jarrah and I am a torturer.”
This iconic quote from Lost is the first thing I thought of when I saw a man who looked just like Sayid at McDonald’s yesterday. He really did look like Sayid. He had the correct complexion along with long black hair, a scruffy beard, and dark, soulless eyes. I first noticed him as he was busy torturing a Big Mac and some fries. I must have looked in his direction one time too many and apparently people who look like Sayid want to keep a low profile. He raised his head and stared at me with such intensity that I exploded.
Okay, that last sentence isn’t true. I didn’t explode. But if he had kept staring at me I probably would have. I must admit that if you are going to look like someone from a TV show looking like one who causes grown men to shudder would be pretty sweet.
There are 2 people from television that I have been told I look like and neither of them even register on the Universal Scale of Cool.
Years ago when I was still roaming the hallowed halls of Carter High School, I was told by a girl I had a semi-crush on that I looked like Gomer Pyle. Yes–the Gomer Pyle. At the time I had the social confidence of a feral kitten, so her assessment of my appearance was exactly what I didn’t need to hear. It’s like telling a woman that she looks like Ernest Borgnine or a singer that he sounds like a hoarse Kermit the Frog. Of course, this is coming from a guy (me) who recently told a coworker that her shirt reminded him of poop and mustard. Note to self: must work on better compliments.
The other semi-famous person who I am told that I look like is Perry Stone. Approximately once a month I am told by someone that I look like him, but I would bet that most of the people who read this have no idea who he is. I am not sure how accurate the comparison is, but we both do have salt-and-pepperish hair, a goatee, and glasses so I guess there’s that. For the record, Perry Stone is a preacher and conference speaker who uses props a lot, sort of like the Carrot Top of preachers.
Of course, those who know my family well say that I look like my father. When people say this I tell them that I got my looks from my father because my mother still has hers.
I didn’t choose the way that I look and neither did you unless you’ve had “work done.” We have the faces that we have and look like who we look like. There are a few things that we can do to improve our looks, but those things are limited in scope.
There was a time in my life that I truly wished that I could look like someone else. If I had the choice back then, I would have chosen to look like Matthew McConaughey. I don’t have a man-crush on him or anything; I just think he looks cool and I look so uncool.
I don’t wish this anymore, though. Now, I want to look like someone else.
I want to look like Jesus.
No, I’m not talking about the pictures of Jesus that show him as a skinny, long-haired, hippie-ish looking man in a long white robe. I’m far to big-boned to pull that off.
What I mean is that I want my actions to look like his actions. I desire for people to see the Savior in what I do and hear the Savior in what I say.
More than look like Jesus, I want to be like Jesus. And that is God’s desire for me, too.
Romans 8:29 says that God predestined those who are His to be conformed to the image of His son.
If you are His through faith in Christ, don’t concern yourself with who you look like physically. Be concerned with looking, thinking, serving, loving, living, and speaking like Jesus.
That’s my goal and I hope it is your’s, too.
(Who have you been told you look like? Who do you think I look like? Go ahead and share.)