In high school, I was pretty awkward. I didn’t blend in at all. First, I was a “homeschool transfer.” Started at St. Joseph Hill all-girls Catholic school in the 10th grade. As a 13 year old sophomore, I was the “young one” – younger than the freshman class. I was also the “religious fanatic.” Quite vocal about my beliefs, I actually was asked not to take the (mandatory) religion course, after challenging the teacher on many of her agnostic and anti-Christian statements. (Jesus sinned? taught in a Catholic school? Seriously?) I was “the one with the really long skirt.” The requirement for skirt length (one of the reasons my parents chose that school is there actually existed a skirt length requirement) was that the skirt should touch the floor when kneeling. My skirt was about 3-4 inches below that.
I stood out for all these reasons. And there was (at least) one more. I talked quite a lot about how my life’s goal was to get married to a wonderful Christian man, and be a wife and mother to a dozen children and homeschool them. This, of all my idiosyncrasies, was the one I got the most conversational mileage out of. “Are you KIDDING? You’re going to have a lot of kids? What about a career? What if your husband leaves you? What if you hate being married?” etc., etc.
I’m not really sure why it was so controversial to plan to be a mother. I guess, even at the time, it was politically incorrect. In any case, the fact is I’ve been planning this life – my current life – for as long as I can remember. I’ve only met half my goal, children-wise, but I’m turning 33 this year so I just may have time to squeak the 12th one out before I hit menopause. I guess we’ll see – it’s up to the Lord’s will! I’ll be sad if Estella is the last one we get, but I’m one of six and it was a nice (if slightly small) size family. Either way, we’ll be good.
I sat down to write this post because I wanted to remind myself of something.
Every day I am faced with a million annoyances, usually starting before I even open my eyes in the morning. The annoyances continue all day. I can’t catch a minute to myself, can’t accomplish anything I personally wanted to do, have way more messes to clean up than I ever thought possible, and live in a general state of being poised to listen for disaster at any moment. And during all this, I am not mindful of one important thing:
This is the life I wanted. This is the path I asked for.
How many people can say that they are doing exactly what they dreamed of doing their whole life? Some want to be an astronaut, or a pro ball player. Some dream of being a doctor or missionary. Then for many people, life gets in the way. Things don’t go the way they planned. But for me, all I *ever* wanted for myself, was to have a husband who found me beautiful, who loved me and “got” me and could laugh with me. All I planned on being was a mother, or wanted for my calling was to have the privilege of raising some of the next generation, of training them to be soldiers for Christ, having the chance to equip them to be leaders of the nation, and enjoying them along the way.
I got my dream life.
I really need to remember that more often.