I Don’t Belong Here

Carol BoveeI’m linking up with the Five-Minute Friday crowd at Crystal Stine’s place this week.  Our prompt?  Belong.

“No! This can’t be happening! Not me. I don’t belong here!” How many times have I said that to myself?

At the age of 10, standing helplessly, crying and holding my hands and head, staring at my twisted bicycle. The driver of the flower delivery van that hit me and carried my body and my bike about 150 feet to a different road stood crying with me.

At the age of 14, standing on an Awards Night concert stage in front of hundreds, unable to get a tuning note out of my flute because the nerves were attacking even my mouth. My flute teacher’s stunned face and my mother’s look of horror as I nodded at the pianist to play made that phrase pass through my mind.

At the age of 21, finally officially declaring my major. I don’t belong in Education because everyone else has these stories of wanting to be a teacher all their lives. Not me! Too much work, not enough money.

At the age of 29, holding my first beautiful baby in my arms. Was she supposed to be blue like that?

At the age of 36, typing the program for the memorial service of my handsome and talented young nephew. These things don’t happen to our average-type family. It’s too surreal. Too horrible.

At the age of 39, standing at the side of my four-year-old’s gurney as they wheeled him in for a bone marrow biopsy. Leukemia. That’s not your average word. It does NOT belong to my healthiest child. It cannot belong to anyone I love.

This is not happening. I don’t belong here. I thought it as a child because my older siblings were too beautiful, talented and amazing for me to fit into this family. I smiled it while receiving my degrees and on my wedding day. I’ve said it when I’ve moved across the country, when I’ve received awards and when a life-long friend succumbs to cancer.

Happy moments, sad moments. Surreal in so many ways.

I don’t belong here.

But I healed from the accident, my concert went fantastically, I love teaching with all my heart, my daughter is a healthy 19-year-old, my sister is amazing and we know we’ll see my nephew again someday, and my Leukemic four year old has grown taller than I and is cancer free.

I still have those moments where I’m sure I don’t belong here. And that’s really okay. Because the truth is; I don’t belong here! Not because I’m deserving of more, or even less. Not because I want more, or less. But because Jesus Christ has paid that price!

And because of that, I can make it through moments of celebration, sadness, joy, mourning and those moments of not belonging. Because I know I belong. I’m a daughter of the King! (click to tweet)

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