Ordinary No More (Part 1 of 3)

I spent most of my life trying to be ordinary.

In junior high, I didn't want to get 'free' lunches because nobody else did. As soon as I could, I started bringing my own squishy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. When girls hair-sprayed their bangs to stand at least two inches above their heads, I did the same. When 'pegging' your pants was in, I did that too. (This was the 80's; we did some strange things.) I wished I lived in a big, beautiful house like my friends, and had parents with ordinary jobs like my friends' parents. If I could have become Caucasian, I would have too.

In high school, I still tried my best to blend in. I switched to contact lenses and started wearing make-up. When none of my friends wanted to join the choir, I almost joined the marching band just to be with them. I thought about taking French instead of music theory, again because all my friends were in that class. I didn't speak up in class, and shared as little information about myself as I could. I didn't talk about going to church or Chinese class or playing the piano.

Ordinary. That's all I wanted.

But God never allowed me to settle for that.

My hair, first of all, would never allow me to be ordinary. As much as I wished for beautiful, shiny straight hair or wonderful, gorgeous, wavy hair, my hair did its own thing. It was (and still is) big, puffy, dark, and crazy. (One little girl once told me that I have 'angry' hair). Then there were the hand-me-down clothes. With a closet full of out-dated and mismatched clothes, I was forced to be creative. And being a pastor's kid, though there were times when I hated it, meant I couldn't hide; I was required to be a leader and role model, even at an early age. I did end up joining the choir and never looked back, and excelled in music theory. If it weren't for those classes, I would have never become a music major in college. 

All of this lead us to this very moment, where at the age of thirty-five, I can say "I will be ordinary no more!" I can forget my childhood insecurities. There is no shame in my hair, or my strange sense of style. I don't need to be afraid of people's opinions of me and allow them to prevent me from meeting new people or inviting them to my humble home. When people comment (no matter how insensitively) on my five children (because four is okay, but for some reason, five is a lot), I can smile and say, "Each and every one is a blessing to me." When they question me on homeschooling, I can speak with confidence on what God has called to me to do. And when the Spirit prompts me to take a leadership role, I can say "Yes!" I am learning to love the person God calls me to be!

God doesn't want us to be ordinary. He wants to make us extraordinary. And whatever that may look like for you, don't settle for blending in when God wants you to SHINE!


(Click here to read Part 2, Embracing Extraordinary, or here to read Part 3, Extraordinary Examples)