Act like you're somebody!

My sweet Grandpa Joe passed away last week. I am going to miss him, but I have lots and lots of good memories of him and I am really glad he is at peace now.

Grandpa had dementia for the last several years of his life, and he just degenerated into a person who was not true Grandpa anymore. I am sad that he is gone but I am so, so happy to picture him in heaven, with his mind and body complete again. I can hear him laughing. I remember many good times but I also imagine he is with his family again and smiling ear to ear like he always was.

Grandpa had several sayings he liked to repeat.

"Is that right?"

"What in the sam hell?"

"What do you know?" (I took this literally as a child and tried to spout off whatever facts I'd crammed in my head that week in school)

and my favorite

"Act like you're somebody!!"

He would say this whenever someone was taking a picture.

Act like you're somebody. I have pondered that phrase repeatedly in the last week. What does it mean to act like you are somebody? What does it mean to be somebody? Who am I? Am I somebody important?

Who am I supposed to be? That is a hard question to answer. In fact, I think most people spend their entire lives trying to determine who they are and what meaning their lives have. I think sometimes we even have to decide who we are not in order to better determine who we are. I struggle trying to figure out God's plan for me- who He wants me to be, what He wants me to do. Right now, I'm a simple stay-at-home-mom who is homeschooling. As my titles announce, I am at home a lot. It's my workplace right now. Last year at this time, I was working at my church, and considering whether that could be something I could do long term. But I felt God calling me back home. Home. It doesn't seem like much and I often struggle, feeling bored or feeling like I could or should be out there having adventures or making a big impact of scores of people.

But that is not my call right now.

Right now, I am a mother to my children. They are little, 5 and 2 1/2. I am the only mom they've got. If I don't mother them and raise them right, who will? I could probably pay to find great daycare. But would that instill all the values I want to cultivate in them? I could probably find part time work in the evenings or weekends or from home. But how would that affect my energy level and my attitude toward my kids? Would I still have time for making sweet memories and enjoying time with them on the weekends when Tim is home? Or would I come home exhausted and want to plop them in front of the TV so I could relax? Sometimes, being home is wonderful. I love days when Lexi is eager to learn, I love hearing her read aloud and knowing that I taught her that, I love snuggling with Lydia and taking them places and doing projects with them. But it's exhausting, frustrating, and sometimes boring. Sometimes my mind is a million miles away in a book, or on Facebook. Sometimes, they do annoying things. Sometimes they make gigantic messes, fight with each other, whine, or want to watch crappy cartoons. Sometimes I don't feel like playing and I want to do my own thing. But I press on, knowing that God has called me home.

I still desire to serve others in greater and more tangible ways. I need to get back into the habit of reading the Bible daily and praying whole-heartedly. I need to plan some meals for us so we aren't eating out of a warm, salty sack. I need to reach out, step out of my house and interact with others in a positive way. I will work on these things.

But for now, I am not just acting like I am somebody. I really AM somebody. I am not anyone particularly exciting, powerful or prestigious. But I am who God made me to be. Today, I am mom. I am wife. I am homemaker. I am somebody.

I hope you're proud, Grandpa. I am trying my best.

Reasons

I know you have all been waiting patiently for the sequel/answers to my last post, so here they are without further ado...

I am not dying, YAY! Haha. I went to the doctor and described my symptoms and she told me there is a virus going around and that is what I had. She said she had it and it lasted for about 3 weeks. Funnily enough, I started feeling better once I knew I wasn't dying anymore :) So that cleared that up pretty quickly. She recommended some supplements for me to increase my energy and reminded me to eat well and exercise. I wish I could get a prescription for exercise. I mean, I guess that's what I got, but it would be cool if workouts came in a little bottle or something. That'd make it easier. Pretty sure we went out to dinner to celebrate my feeling better and I stuffed myself with a delicious burger and sweet potato fries :) Obviously I'm a good listener.

On to situation #2- meeting my birth mom. Her name is Kim, just to make the story easier. I was worried about emotions and whatnot, but I need not have been. Because it was a really weird, detached sort of experience. Let me back up a little bit. Now that this experience has passed, I can see how God was working in it...actually, I think the point was to see how God was working in my life before I ever even arrived in this world.

So Kim had a 3-year-old, Kati, when she got pregnant with me. My bio dad peaced out and so she was planning to keep me...until Kati's dad re-entered the picture and sort of wanted to rekindle their relationship. It had been tumultuous (to say the least) and honestly I know they were married at one point but I'm not sure when that officially started and ended. So anyway, she wanted back with him but he refused to raise another man's child (which I am very thankful for) so she decided to give me up for adoption in order to try and make a better situation for Kati. Through a friend who was my parents' neighbor, she discovered that they were looking to adopt another child and eventually asked if they wanted me, which, thankfully, they did. So she came to Kansas and had me, my parents took me, and she and Kati returned to Texas.

I am totally here for a reason. I mean specifically here. I outsmarted birth control (ha!) and wished myself into existence. God had plans for me. His plan was that I be raised by an incredibly caring and stable set of people I call Mom and Dad. And that I meet a cute guy in high school, fall in love, and start a family with him. God's plan was for me to know and love my Dad, and my kids' Dad. He wanted Dads in my life, and without my adoption, that wouldn't have happened. Perhaps he wanted me to know the love of an earthly father so I could better understand His love for me. Neither of my bio sisters have their dads in their lives, nor do their children. I am happy that they are finding their way as single moms, but I am sad that neither they nor their children know what it is like to have the unconditional love of a Dad. It's an amazing thing. I am so blessed to have both my mom and my Dad, and Tim, the most wonderful and caring Dad I could ever have asked for for my children.

So I truly do think that part of God's plan was for me to be raised and nurtured by two stable parents, rather than moving from place to place, seeing men walk in and out of my life, and experiencing the effects of different forms of abuse. God had a gentler plan for me. I'm not sure why I, as the middle child of this particular situation, was chosen to have these opportunities. But I must not forget my blessings. I have a greater purpose still that I do not know the details of, but I trust that they will unfold in time.

So, the weekend. What was the trip like? To tell the truth, it was weird and I am glad it is over. I enjoyed meeting Kati and her little girl, that was a very cool experience. The rest of it felt...well, strange. I went into the weekend expecting my bio mom to have a purpose for the trip, a reason for wanting to meet me, etc. But that never came. No questions were really asked about my life, not much conversation was actually made. We did some visiting and shared some meals but the surface was not scratched. It felt very anticlimactic to me. I didn't feel very emotional about it...that just wasn't the tone of the weekend. It's weird to talk about it, because I don't think that's what anyone would expect to hear out of a story like this. It's strange, isn't it?

I learned in greater detail the circumstances of my birth and adoption, as well as what I "missed" by not...sticking around. And the take home for me, is gratitude. I am so grateful for my loving parents. I am grateful they have shown me how to love others, and to not settle for less. I am grateful for the circumstances to meet a wonderful man to be my partner in life, and that he stuck around when I got pregnant. He didn't have to, as I've seen, but he did. He's a wonderful, thoughtful husband and a devoted father. Our girls will know love and security and stability just as I have known them. And I am so grateful for that.

God has had a plan for me from the beginning. I hadn't given that much thought until now...but it is true. Even when I was a tiny blob of cells, He was making GREAT plans for my life. Plans to prosper me and not to harm me. Plans to give me hope and a future. I will not take that for granted.