(joyfulmysteries note: Okay total disclaimer about the writer today! I was so jealous of her in high school- she was smart, popular, and athletic. She was also very funny and had amazing long hair. We lost touch like I did with many over the years but in the past months have reconnected…and let me say she is amazing. She has said yes to God beyond the comfortable and continues to strive to do his real. Thank you Josie for your words and your real today! You are so loved, and I admire you so much.) 

  

So when Kristin first asked me to write a post for her blog I was flattered….and then
nervous….and then scared. She suggested I write about open adoption and foster care. Sure, I
can do that. Why am I scare of that? Oh…wait…because I am a failure. You want real? There
you go, that’s my real.
Despite all I do on a daily basis, the fact remains that I was supposed to be so much more. I
was so smart. So gifted. Had so many opportunities. Had a full ride to an incredible school for
petes sake. Such a bright future. I could be anything I wanted.
And now.
Well.
“When ARE you going to use that degree that hangs on your wall.”
Someday.
Maybe.

Turns out that degree was earned as a means to learning about myself. And undoing some of
what happened in my life that got me all twisted in the first place. And maybe preparing me for
my calling. I’m ok with that. Kind of.

Some days I wish I would have become an architect (my first major) or a doctor (my second and
third majors)….I ended up with a degree in psychology and sociology. Which to my family was
perhaps worse then not going to college at all. But that’s what I got. Then I worked in the real
world for two years.

Turns out that’s not what God wanted me to be doing. Turns out my calling is to be a mom. I
never would have guessed. Seriously.
My journey to becoming a mother is probably different then most. And maybe I’ll have another
chance to share more on that later (I’m pretty sure that’s what Kristin wanted to hear about
anyways).

Right now, I am mom to 7 young kids-9,7,4,3,3,2 and 1. I’m pretty sure if you ask them if I’m a
failure, they will probably say “can I have more bacon?” Or sing a song. Or run away.
Because they don’t know what you’re talking about. They don’t know all that I was supposed to
be.

They do know that I am their mom. I will be here when they wake up. And when they come
home from school. Dinner might be cold cereal. But it will be food eaten together in our home.
They know I love them fiercely.
I’d be lying if I said there weren’t days that I feel like a failure. As a mom, a wife, a woman, a
professional….. I feel like a loser for not wearing nice clothes and going to work everyday. For
not knowing what’s going on in my professional field. For not finishing my Masters degree.
But then I look up and see into the eyes of my real.
Real love. Coming from a God who loves me, a husband who loves me and sweet, innocence
kids who love me even when I don’t think I deserve it. That’s my real.
And I’m ok with that.