I didn’t ask for the story of a blue-eyed, brown-haired girl of shorter stature … but it was the one given to me.
I didn’t ask to grow up in a poor pastor’s family, with loving & faithful parents, the youngest of six girls and a baby brother – but they were the characters I was handed.
I didn’t ask for a wealth of books and a love of reading supplied to me from birth … I didn’t ask for words to always be magical in my mind and stories and penmanship to be my obsession since I was small.
I didn’t ask for an innocent, carefree childhood; an awkward, shy pre-teen self; or a quiet, yet slightly odd theater girl persona in high school.
I didn’t ask to struggle with perfectionism and a desire to please and be praised … I didn’t ask for timidity and a love of the spotlight simultaneously … I didn’t ask for a pathway of rejection and singleness … I didn’t ask for heartbreak and loneliness.
I didn’t ask for a passion for teaching and for CYT … I didn’t ask for a job on the national level (well, maybe I did ask for that one) … I didn’t ask for unexpected dreams and colorful horizons.
I didn’t ask for a memory that remembers the smallest of details or a love of vintage clocks and the smell of old books … I didn’t ask for laughter to be my default and optimism to be my general outlook.
I didn’t ask for pride and selfishness to constantly be my battle … or for anger to be a hairsbreadth away from someone not living up to my expectations.
No one gets to choose these things. They are simply assigned to you in your life’s role, and what you must do with your assignment is live it out and tell the story of one who has been saved by grace. No one’s story is perfect and free from struggles, mistakes, hurts or difficulties. But every story is worth being redeemed and told beautifully.
Because what is most compelling is that I didn’t choose to be God’s child – He chose me and redeemed me for His glory. He gave me certain abilities and gifts, and has allowed me to struggle and fight with certain temptations, all so that I might better know Him and reflect Him to those around me.
Not for a moment do I deserve any of the things I have been given. Sometimes I look at the amount of blessings stacked up, and I wonder, why me? But I have to humbly accept that this is my story – this is amazing grace – this is quiet wonder – this is my everyday sacrifice of thanksgiving.
That I am allowed to live and breathe and give testimony to God’s infinite mercy and love – this is the most stunning mystery of all.
And I only pray that I can be given the right words to tell this story of mine, however insignificant it may be.