Lessons from Childhood

This blog post has been on my mind for a long time...I knew what I wanted to say in my mind--I knew what my heart felt, but getting it on paper is the hardest thing. I also have to admit I didn't want to write it because its hard to "talk" about. So here we go---ready?! I don't think I am. 

Growing up was hard. My parents were wonderful, supportive, helped me academically, gave me the food I needed to eat, taught me to love God, taught me right vs. wrong--they were part of who I am today. I had all these wonderful things, but growing up was still hard...you may ask why. The answer is---the way I looked. I grew up being stared at, being laughed at, being called names, having lots of questions asked to me at a young age. The question was "What is wrong with your nose?" That question haunted me for years--to the point that I didn't care the way I looked because all people saw was my big, fat, ugly nose. I was called ugly, the boys laughed at me, the girls made fun, adults stared, kids stared. I finally asked my dad, "What do I say when people ask me whats wrong with my nose?" Dad's reply was, "Tell them God made you that way." So I did, half-heardedly told them that is the way God made me." But it still wasn't easy. There were all these gorgeous girls around me--guys paying attention to them---then there was me...plain Becca...well we will leave it at that. It was hard. I couldn't help it though because that is how God made me. 

In 9th grade, I had surgery but the doctor couldn't remove the entire neuroma--only part of it. It looked better--but still wasn't a pretty sight. Then college came...once again I was plagued with stares. I also worked with a bunch of kids and they asked ALL THE TIME...."Whats wrong with your nose?" Then it all came back to me--the memories of being made fun of---I also hated the way I looked. I wished there was a way to change it. There were times I would close my eyes and imagine myself looking "normal." But then something happened...I was at a breaking point. I snapped. I literally lost it---that is a whole other story. The day I lost it, dad took me on a drive. We talked. It helped, but it was still hard. I finally came to the point that I had to start liking myself and the way I looked. I started taking better care in the way I looked, took the time to do my hair, and apply makeup. I decided people can stare but I am "fearfully and wonderfully made." God made me this way for a reason--not sure why, and how He will use it for his glory, but he made me this way for a reason. I changed my attitude and learned to accept it. I see people every day who may not be the prettiest  or most good looking people---but I learn from personal experience to look past it. There could be something going on in their life, they may have had a bad day, they may just need a smile. Every one is beautiful in their own unique way. 

I have learned to laugh at myself, learned that there will people who will accept me and people who won't, learned that having a quirky sense of humor is the easiest way to help people look past my flaws, and learned to SMILE--always smile. A smile can make anyone's day. 

I have also learned that judging someone by the way they look isn't always what it seems. A person can be ugly or "different" and have the biggest heart out of anyone. A person can be beautiful and be mean, ugly, and a snob. Looks aren't always everything---its what is on the inside that counts. 

Lord, Send Me Anywhere

I haven't talked much about some hopes and dreams I have had for awhile. I have a lot of dreams--like going to Paris, getting married, having a family, and traveling the world. What can I say I am a dreamer--I can be caught daydreaming or talking about things I want to do. Over the past year, the dream--and hope and wishes of going into foreign missions has dwindled for a number of reasons. For one, I am very comfortable where I am right now. Second, I have been willing (unfortunately) to give up the fact I want to go to the foreign mission field to teach just so I can do what I want to do. Third, I am afraid, nervous, and unsure where to go and what to do. When I was in elementary school I talked and talked about being a missionary. Trust me, you can ask my teachers. I would talk about being a doctor on the mission field.. I would talk about being a nurse on the mission field. I would talk about being a teacher. When I was in high-school I dedicated my life to be a missionary--whether it was to stay here in America or go to another country. This time last year, I wanted to go to Africa, Germany, or to some third world country to teach boys and girls. Then something happened...that desire went away. I thought about it-- a lot. But then I thought, "No its not for me" or "No I don't want to." During the past few weeks, after a lady in my parents church asked me about my still wanting to go to Africa it hit me--I haven't thought about it for months. That desire to go help the Whitfields or the Coleys one summer dwindled away like a flame of a candle being blown out. The Lord is bringing that desire back. I still want to be a missionary outside of America--someday. I want to be willing to go anywhere. For now, the Lord is preparing me for this as Jacksonville, Florida, is my mission field at the moment. I pray that someday whether single or married I will be willing to go anywhere. I want to live out my life verse--Isaiah 6:8.