“I’m afraid my story is not as dramatic as yours,” Al said.
“So God is a versatile hound. Tell me what happened.”
“OK, I’ve never told this to anyone before but here goes. Do you know what my name is?”
Carla looked at him with a puzzled look. “I thought I did. I know you as Al Chippingham. What’s that, a fake name, and you’re really under the witness protection program?”
“No, what I mean is do you know what Al is short for?”
“Not really,” Carla said, “I just assumed it was for Albert or Allen, or maybe Alexander. I never really thought about it. Now I’m curious. What is it?”
“It’s Alvin. Now think about it. If you put Alvin together with my last name, what is the image that comes to mind?”
Carla scrunched up her face in concentration, and then tried to hide a smile that came out as a giggle.
“Go ahead,” Al said. “Say it out loud.”
“Alvin and the Chipmunks. I saw the movie with my niece on her eighth birthday in 2007.”
“That movie was based on a song from the ‘50s” Al said. “I grew up hating that song. All of my boyhood friends took delight in making the connection. You can’t believe what that did to my self-confidence.”
“I’m sorry I laughed,” Carla said, “but what does that have to do with God’s call?”
“Strange as it sounds, it had a lot to do with it. I was reared by my mother and very insecure about my identity. I was an introvert and felt like I was the butt of lots of jokes. My one defense was that I was pretty smart. I delighted in having the answers before anyone else.”
“Thus your ability to argue with the professors and even use Greek and Hebrew terms.”
“You got it, but there was always something missing. No matter how many arguments I won, I always knew there was something lacking. Behind my words, I was still that little nerd that everyone laughed at.”
“That’s why you know what it feels like to be an alien, an immigrant in a foreign land,” Carla said.
“I guess that has something to do with it, but I was also rescued from some of that insecurity by an experience I had in a Sunday school class.”
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