Today, I turned a corner in the car and spotted a tall seagull walking toward me. “I’ll have to stop and get a picture of that bird,” I thought. But when I got closer—it was not a tall bird. It was an extremely short woman with white hair, wearing a white woolly hat on her head, a white shawl around her shoulders, and a long grey coat. Perceptions are often faulty.

When we first moved to Dunoon, our old car did not pass the annual MOT, and it would have cost too much to fix it. Our rescue collie, Angel Joy, had developed severe spinal problems and was on a daily regimen of pain medication. Thus Alan went across the water by himself to purchase a used car. He bought one and made arrangements for delivery. With excitement, he told me it was melon colored. Now I grew up in the South U.S. where everyone who has a garden grows melons—watermelons and cantaloupes. Since Alan said the car wasn’t red, I pictured our new car as being orange. I was proud of my conservative husband for splashing color into our lives by purchasing an orange car. But when the car arrived, I was hugely disappointed. It was white. At least it looked white except when it was parked next to a white car. I now know that cantaloupes are not popular here in Scotland. To Scots, melons are white inside—not orange. Perceptions are often faulty. My image was the wrong melon.

When I left home and married Luke’s dad, it was to escape from my father’s sexual abuse and death threats if I told anyone. One of my earliest and scariest childhood memories was seeing him grab a medium-sized fluffy white dog by the hind legs and beat it to death against a concrete curb. He said it bit him. Not long after that, he left my pregnant mother and my two siblings behind in California and spirited my grandmother (his mother) and me away at night. He drove all the way across the U.S., finally stopping beside a lagoon in the Florida Everglades wilderness. We camped there for months, eating pancakes my grandmother cooked over an open fire three times a day. It was all we could afford. For a five-year-old child, it was a great adventure. As I grew older, I realized my father had fled from a crime he committed. I suspect murder.

The good thing about Luke’s dad, I thought when I married him, was his wit and sense of humor. It was only after I became a Christian that I realized his wit and humor actually belittled and mocked other people. His off-color jokes weren’t funny—they were cruel. Perceptions are often faulty. He was the wrong melon.

That’s one benefit of becoming a Christian and reading the Bible. It helps us pick the right melon. “For the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” Galatians 5:22.

Perceptions are often faulty—and the wrong melon is easy to pick.

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