This Is My Life

I meant to post this a month ago, right after my blogpost titled "To Be Known", but the past month has been a whirlwind, and I haven't been able to concentrate on writing ... but here it is, finally ... about me.

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Most of my life, I've been recognized as "the missionary's daughter" or "the pastor's daughter". That's how people knew me. I grew up overseas, with my parents and my three sisters. We came alongside ministries, smuggled Bibles into countries still under the rule of communism, started a church, learned languages and different cultures of lifestyle, and shared the good news of Jesus Christ everywhere we went.

By the time I graduated high school, I had lived in three countries, spoke two languages fluently, had friends all over the world, and had been to at least 10 countries, two or three times each. I rode trains, busses, subways, ferry boats, cruise ships, bicycles, driven through tunnels under water, and I had been on more airplanes than years I'd been alive. I often dreamed in Greek, thought in English, but spoke German when asked a question. And when I couldn't articulate what I was trying to say, because all the languages were jumbled in my head, I would use sign language. All this to say, I was a very complicated girl.

I played piano, flute, drums, hand bells and percussion (cow bell and timpani being my favorite). I was in the high school band, the hand bell choir, the drama team, the sign language team, and the school choir. I have no idea how I ended up in choir. It must have been a freebie, because I can't sing. My kids remind me of that every day.

I went to Paris as a sophomore when we were studying the French Revolution, my senior class trip was to Italy, and I did my grocery shopping in Switzerland. I lived in a Vineyard. Every weekend, I would bike down the vineyard to the local bakery and bring fresh bread home for the family. Ahhhhh, the German bakeries. That is what I miss the most. The pretzel rolls, the nutella filled croissants, the sourdough ... all warm and made fresh daily.

Winters were spent sledding through the vineyards and down our icy driveway. 7 pieces of the Berlin Wall were across the street from my house. We had cherry trees (dozens of them), in the field in front of our house, and we would climb those trees and eat cherries until we pooped our pants. We built forts in the spring and igloos in the winter. I didn't have a cell phone or ever wore a helmet. I was always home by dinner. I used to do my homework in the ruins of an old castle, a 20 min bike ride away. I've never broken any bones, but I did have braces.

I went to college in Austria and England. I lived and worked in Seattle for a year. And then I moved to San Diego and met my husband. And since then, my life has taken a more "settled" aspect to it, even though I conceived two children on the birth control pill, haven't slept through the night in 4 years, lost my Grandma to pancreatic cancer, got diagnosed with an incurable intestinal disease that is eating away at my colon, a college friend that committed suicide, and have parents that are recently separated. I am walking proof that even when everything seems to go wrong, life is still worth living.

I've traveled the world ... I have a degree in Biblical Theology and a license in Massage Therapy. I worked as a baker in Sweden, at an elementary school in San Diego, along with after school programs, and as a nanny. I had a glimpse in the Financial World in which I passed my Series 6 and 63 Exams, and now I am a wife and mother. I used to be a musician, an ice skater, a gymnast, and a dancer. I used to be wild and random and unprepared. I have a wig collection. I still dream in Greek sometimes. Basically, I'm weird.

That is who I am. Or who I was. But I realize, despite the crazy and amazing upbringing I had, it's still my choice who I want to be. This is my life. My life given to me by GOD. A life that would be empty without God's presence in it. A life that would be meaningless, if I didn't have a future to look forward to. I'm sure you can tell that the Switchfoot song is playing in my head in the background. ("This is your life, are you who you want to be".) Sometimes I miss being young and reckless. Sometimes I wish I wasn't turning 30 this year. Sometimes I wish I still wore business suits and high heels to work every day. Sometimes I wish I could remember how to knit. Sometimes I wish I hadn't sold my drum set. I wish, I wish, I wish ... it so isn't worth wishing.

My life is WAY BETTER now, even though I can't remember what happened yesterday, and my wardrobe consists of sweatpants, target tshirts, and running shoes, and I have to maintain a strict diet for the rest of my life (as Brian Regan would say, "and no more happiness!"), I am filled with joy, peace, love, contentment, and security in my God, my husband, my kids, my church, my home. At least I still have my wig collection, right? And even if that were all to be uprooted, which it very well might be, I would still find rest in the presence of God and the contentment in who I am. I am a daughter of the King. What could be better than that?