Category: identity

From what I’ve been told, two weeks after I was expected to come into this world I finally made my appearance. That was the first of many of my delayed responses to life. I have never been ready, and life has seemed to always come late.

Except for that dreaded third grade (yes, I said third grade) year when my body decided it wasn’t going to come late and the signs of womanhood began appearing. That was dreadful I must admit. I didn’t want any of that to come on time.

At thirteen as other girls were excited about being invited to parties with girls AND boys, I was still secretly upstairs in my room playing with dolls – contently. When that boy kissed me for the first time at my first boy/girl dance I wanted to hide under the gymnasium bleachers by myself. And college was a whole other experience that expanded my mind to places I never knew existed and quite frankly didn’t want to know about. I was a little naive about life and slow to grow up the way my peers around me seemed to be. But it was good for me. I was safe there.

Then college ended, and I started thinking about what was supposed to come next. Marriage, of course, and that’s what I wanted too. The only problem was I didn’t have a boyfriend, and never had for that matter. Marriage was coming no time soon.

So the years went on and life around me continued to move along while mine just sat there, stagnant, waiting to start. My friends from college  were then married and even having babies. I was thirty years old living alone in a one bedroom apartment like I had for the past twelve years. Each year the same as the one before it.

Eventually my time came. When everyone was on the second and third baby I was walking down the aisle hoping motherhood would come later too.

And it did. I am expecting my first baby in October, and I am elated. I’ll be 36. A little late again.

Life didn’t just come late for me in regards to marriage and babies either. I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, and just recently have I begun to get a clue. I would love to be able to write some things and have them published. But all I can think about is how old I am now. It seems a bit too late for me, especially compared to all the women my age who majored in English like good writers do and have worked for magazines or published books or even written bestsellers.

Life has just come late. Maybe just too late.

Or has it?

As I’ve been thinking about my life and marriage and baby and career, I wonder if all of it really has come too late or if it’s come at just the right time for me. 

After all, what kind of wife or mother would I be had I not had the experiences in those years of waiting that taught me more about myself and God? And what would I now have to write down on paper and share with you had the stories not preceded?

I have to rest on the fact that God’s plan is perfect and not for me to control. He knows the most intimate parts of my being that not only do I not know but even if I did I could not understand. He knows what I need to see and learn and try before I can be used by Him in the specific ways He has set out for me.

He knows that His life within me has not come late but at its perfect time.

So the next time I start to look around and envy the young bride or the thirty-six year old with a house full of children or the writer who seems perfect with every word, I am going to remember what God has showed me recently about His perfect timing for me.  I’m also going to remember all the men and women in the Bible who’s life seemed to come late, too, but then they were used mightily for God. I am going to thank God for this life His given me to make me more like Himself and ask Him to continue His work in me until it’s to completion – even if that means it comes a little late.

Have you ever felt like life has come late for you? Please share with us in the comments. I would love to hear from you.

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The truth came out when I was about twelve years old.  My mom thought I was an ugly baby.  Well, at the time she didn’t.  At the time she thought I was the most beautiful baby that ever was born – of course – just like moms are supposed to think.

But when I was twelve she said to me, “I didn’t think so at the time, but now when I look back at pictures I think to myself, ‘She really was an ugly baby!’”

It truly didn’t offend me.  I don’t know why because if she told me I was an ugly teenager I would have lost my mind.  I guess I felt like I had no control over being a pretty baby.  But a teenager?  Much time, effort, and fretting was spent being pretty then.

But when did I really become pretty?

Was it the day I was born?

Did I become pretty after trying hard to look that way?

Was it when my mom told me I was pretty or when she truly thought of me as pretty? 

Or maybe it’s that year I lost a little bit of weight and boys started talking to me?

Was that when I became pretty?

For years pretty did not look back at me when I glanced in the mirror.  Frizzy hair. Flabby arms. Oil slick skin. Wide calves. Last year’s clothes. Or the never changing barely 60 inches.  It was always something.

Then there was that one day that I caught my reflection as I walked by the mirror.  I did a double-take, glancing again.

Pretty was staring back at me. 

Did my mom change her mind and realize that I truly was a pretty baby?  Had I tried harder that morning and succeeded at being pretty that day?  Or somewhere out there were there boys that were daydreaming about my beauty?

The day I became pretty was the day I saw myself that way. 

Nothing had changed on the outside. It was my mind that chose to see differently.  I began to see the creation that was woven so intricately together, thread after thread.  And I began to honor the Creator.

You see, a creation is-what-it-is.  We cannot not add value to it or take it away.  It’s only how the person chooses to see it that makes it something different.

You are a valuable creation whose worth has been set.

It started on Pinterest.  I’m semi-addicted.  Can you relate?  Each night now my wind down time is going through new pins of the people I follow to make sure I didn’t miss anything. 

That’s when I saw this pin:

Really?  I am a INFJ (Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging) or I have introverted intuition with extroverted feeling. 

But am I really artistic and creative?  Is my world full of hidden meanings and possibilities? 

I have taken countless personality tests and temperament quizzes and spiritual gifts analyses.  I am quite in tuned with my inner self and the places I shine along with the places I hide.  So I thought . . . 

I clicked over to the website just to see what else it had to say about this INFJ . . . and my mind came together to a single point.  Finally I made sense.  Everything written described me, even the innermost parts that I can’t verbalize.

But it’s what I read next that helped me to understand a struggle I have lived with for a long time – only 1-3% of people are INFJs. 

You see, rarely do I feel understood.  Even as a little girl I felt like I lived in a different world with different thoughts and a different view than the people who lived around me. 

I always felt different.  Probably not in an overtly weird way, even though I’m sure some people think I’m weird. I am able to mold myself pretty easily into what’s expected of me.  But in a something-just-isn’t-the-same-about-me way. 

This affects my decisions. I’m always second-guessing myself.  It affects my convictions.  I care too much about what other people think of me.  It affects my relationships.  It is hard for me to accept that you really “get it”.

I am exhausted living this way.

My scavenger hunt on Pinterest led me to further “evidence” that I’m just as I should be – who God created me to be.  I’m a real personality – INFJ – and I’m unique – I’m one of 1-3%.  I have permission to continue being misunderstood or different or weird. Through it God wants to use me. 



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 Last week I read a blog post by Lysa TerKeurst, and she asked us what three words describe the “script of our lives”.  You know, what three words do you want people to remember about you at the end of your life. 

Lysa asked her readers not to look at the other responses before posting yours.  I really, really wanted to cheat and look because how can you narrow it down to just three?  Then I started thinking about what I’ve been praying about and asking Jesus to help me with over the past several weeks.

These are my three words:

1. Authentic (Matthew 13:24-30)

Over the past few weeks, while meeting with some friends for a summer Bible study, I have realized how important it is for sisters in Christ to be “real” with each other. 

It is so tempting to just keep all of our problems  hidden for fear of what others will think or even because of pride.  However, true growth occurs in two ways: 1. seeing how fellow Christians respond to their personal struggles and 2. hearing their wise counsel in response to our personal struggles.

The prerequisite to this is, of course, a certain level of loving trust and commitment, but I think it is important that we work hard to get to that place.

I want to be authentic so that others see God’s grace in my life, so that others do not think they are the only ones who struggle, and so that I can build a trusting relationship to open up a level of trust.

2. Bold (2 Samuel 7:27-28; Philippians 1:20)

Recently I listened to a sermon by Andy Stanley where he encouraged his listeners to pray bold prayers.  He said that there is nothing wrong with praying for our family to be safe and for people to be healed, but we should also pray to be used for God’s purposes – regardless of what that means for us.

Many times when I pray for God to use me or change me I do it with this small voice in the back of my mind the doesn’t really want what I’m asking.  These prayers are the ones that cause me discomfort.  They require me to stretch and change and get out of my comfort zone.  These prayers don’t typically switch to “on” overnight, but instead, whatever is causing me to pray increases.  For instance, if I pray for more patience, then everything that requires me to be more patient increases.  I know that this is how God grows us, but in the meantime it makes me squirm.  I don’t like to squirm. 

I want to be bold in order to be open to all God wants me to become so that He can fulfill His purposes for me.

3.  Faithful (Matthew 25:23)

Over the past year God has shown His faithfulness to me over and over again through my husband’s heart transplant and my mom’s sudden death.  During that time I had a choice to either deny God and become resentful and angry because I did not understand how He could allow these things to happen, or to have faith that His ways are always right and perfect.  I chose to stay close to God in faith, and as a result He blessed me with His overwhelming gift of peace.

After going through all of that you would think that I could easily be faithful to God in the little things of everyday life.  However, for me, this is where I struggle.  I was able to lay down the lives of my husband and mom in faith that God was in control, but I am not able to lay down my everyday circumstances of struggling with finding fulfillment in my job or overcoming feelings of inadequacies or dealing with issues with the people around me. 

I want to be faithful not just in the big circumstances in life but in the everyday things, too, because this is where my legacy is built.

What about you?  What three words to you want to be your “life script“?  Share them with me below!