What do you want to be when you grow up?
When I was in first grade, I loved recess. We didn’t have playgrounds or swings to play on, just a large field with a creek running along the back edge. Bobby and I played in that creek every time we went outside. Sometimes we caught snails to keep in our lift-top desks. They crawled all over the insides of the desk, along the walls, across the underside of the top, even on our books. They were so cute to watch, but we always got caught because we kept peeking into our desks to see them during class time. I think the giggles may also have contributed to our troublemaking.
Often, when recess ended we didn’t hear the bell, so our teacher hovered around us to let us know when to head back. It was a long walk to the building for our little legs. She talked with us about this or that, probably teaching us things when we weren't watching. But I remember one day that burned into my memory.
She smiled at us and asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
This was the first time someone asked me that question. Bobby shouted out, “A Fireman! No, an astronaut. I want to be an astronaut. Or maybe….”
I hardly heard him rattling on as I thought about the possibilities. Then something struck my heart and without even thinking, I muttered under my breath, “I want to be a writer.”
My teacher stopped and looked at me. She paused for a moment, studied me intently, then nodded her approval.
That was right before my little life fell apart.
Amazingly, when hard times hit me, I always thought to myself, That’s okay. I’ll put this in my book one day. At such a young age, that is how I began to cope with all the hurt in my life. I lost a parent. I lost another parent. I was separated from my brother, creating more heartbreak. I suffered through hunger, abuse, and neglect. As an adult, I thought my life would improve, but then I lost my husband and became a single parent of three small children.
I am an intimate friend of fear, loneliness, and longing. Yet, I have experienced amazing provisions in every area of my life through Jesus, the Messiah. I refuse to be defined as a victim of my circumstances. I am not a damaged person. I am not even a survivor. I am a thriver.
I choose to live my life with joy, kindness, love, and hope. I am a tenacious encourager because I have lived through pain, and I easily see it in others.
And I write.
Often, when recess ended we didn’t hear the bell, so our teacher hovered around us to let us know when to head back. It was a long walk to the building for our little legs. She talked with us about this or that, probably teaching us things when we weren't watching. But I remember one day that burned into my memory.
She smiled at us and asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
This was the first time someone asked me that question. Bobby shouted out, “A Fireman! No, an astronaut. I want to be an astronaut. Or maybe….”
I hardly heard him rattling on as I thought about the possibilities. Then something struck my heart and without even thinking, I muttered under my breath, “I want to be a writer.”
My teacher stopped and looked at me. She paused for a moment, studied me intently, then nodded her approval.
That was right before my little life fell apart.
Amazingly, when hard times hit me, I always thought to myself, That’s okay. I’ll put this in my book one day. At such a young age, that is how I began to cope with all the hurt in my life. I lost a parent. I lost another parent. I was separated from my brother, creating more heartbreak. I suffered through hunger, abuse, and neglect. As an adult, I thought my life would improve, but then I lost my husband and became a single parent of three small children.
I am an intimate friend of fear, loneliness, and longing. Yet, I have experienced amazing provisions in every area of my life through Jesus, the Messiah. I refuse to be defined as a victim of my circumstances. I am not a damaged person. I am not even a survivor. I am a thriver.
I choose to live my life with joy, kindness, love, and hope. I am a tenacious encourager because I have lived through pain, and I easily see it in others.
And I write.
