Middle school is probably some of the worst years of just about everyone's life. It's a time when your stuck between being a kid and growing up. Your body is changing, your mind is changing, your friends are changing, and you're trying to figure out who you are and how you fit in. As a middle school teacher, I often find myself hoping and constantly praying against the "worst" for my students. I ask God to allow me to do all that I can to make their short time in middle school the best for them. And I hope that maybe one day when they look back, they'll remember some parts being good, really good.
The thing about middle school is that in the grand scheme of life it's only 4 years. 4 years and that's it. Yet so much happens in those 4 years that it marks some of us for life. It shapes who we become in later years. For some strange reason we can't remember what we had for breakfast but we can remember vividly moment after moment of our time in middle school.
For me, middle school was exactly that. It was some of the worst times. It shaped me who I became. It marked me for life. And as I look back, there are some parts that were good, really good.
My middle school started at 5th grade and 5th grade Emily was even smaller than current Emily. 5th grade Emily was scared. The school had 2 floors and I had no idea how I would manage to get to my classes that were on the other side of the building on time. I had different books for every class. I had different teachers for every class. My friendships were changing. And, for the first time in my life I realized that my heart condition made me strikingly different. And that was the worst.
No one was else was tired like I was. No one else seemed to struggle to get through the day after lunch (which was at like...10:30...). No one else and to sit out in gym. No one else's backpack was too heavy from them to carry. No one else was out of breath when they went from the 5th grade hallway to the art room on the second floor on the opposite of the building.
I soon become confused and angry. I was lashing out at my parents, my sister, and myself. I fought with my parents to the point where I hated myself. I lost privilege after privilege at home. I became anxious and afraid. I bit off all my nails. I would have panic attacks about sleeping at night. I worried and became afraid about every little thing. I became miserable. I wasn't happy with my life, and I wasn't happy with myself. I would go to church and sit in worship and just cry. Asking God to change me. To heal me. To make me better. To make me fit into my definition of normal. And when he didn't, the cycle of angry and anxiety and fear continued.
My mom had set out on a mission to fix what she could for me...as heart mom's do. She spoke with my doctors, my teachers, and my guidance counselors and together they created a 504 Plan for me to ensure that I got accommodations that made my day easier. I got to be late to class if I needed. I got to bring a water bottle to class and eat a snack in the afternoon. I got additional copies of my text books and in my future years, my classes were scheduled so that I could have math in the beginning of the day before I become exhausted. But that didn't change gym class. That didn't change the fact that I couldn't participate and had to sit on the side and watch the rest of the class. That didn't change the fact that when all my friends were trying out for sports teams, I couldn't. That didn't change the fact that I felt like the odd one out. And despite all these things designed to make my life easier; I continued on my journey of self-sabotage, not only in my relationships but within my self. I was mean. I was hurtful. I was refusing to take my medicine. I was refusing to accept myself.
I can't pin point a moment of change. It wasn't a switch that flipped where one day things were awful and the next day they were not. It was a process. It started after a night of crying about...everything. My dad said some very simple words to me that changed my perspective. He said, "Emily, just serve God and everything will fall into place." At the time I thought, I am serving God! I'm a christian. I go to church. I pray. I read my bible. I share my faith. I go to youth group. I go on missions trips. But after mulling those words over and over for months and quite a few years I began to realize that by not accepting who God created me to be, and how He created me, was preventing me from truly serving Him. It was preventing me from even fully understanding Him, of walking with Him and having relationship with Him. I needed to do what exactly what my dad said and just, "serve Him" and that started with acceptance. Acceptance and embracing exactly who and how He created me.
So I decided to make some changes. I started by sticking up for myself. Someone picked on me in 6th grade gym and told me go get new heart. I had a sassy come back for her. (Not the best way...but I hey, I had to start somewhere!) I decided to no longer sit on the sidelines and be jealous. I started going to every single one of my sister and brother's sporting events, becoming their number one fans, and even helping out the coaches and the teams when needed. I decided to laugh about my condition, to make jokes about why I couldn't do things. "Sorry, I can't do that because I only have half a heart." I decided to see the good in the differences. Taking my test separately meant less pressure and less noise. Having a snack during the day meant taking a break from class to go eat it. That was always an added bonus right? I started to realize that my parents had their own journey they were on as parents of not one but two children with CHD. Although it didn't change the teenage attitude I had towards them, it certainly changed my perspective of who they were, and why they were that way.
At times I still felt lonely. At times I still felt left out. At times I wished for change and a lot of times I was angry about it. But I continued to intentionally change my perspective I began to have a deeper understanding of the nature of God. I realized and I came to truly believe that He makes no mistakes. That He hadn't had an "oops" when He made me. He hadn't "done this" to me as if it was some sort of a punishment. He had created me exactly the way I was, with all my imperfections, with purpose and for a purpose. He didn't want me to spend my life wanting to figure out what was point if I couldn't be normal, but what was my purpose by being exactly who and how I was. Half a heart and all.
Can I tell you what an incredibly satisfying feeling that is? To know that the God of universe made you unique, made you perfectly, and made you for a purpose. That is an incredible feeling. It's the best feeling. I look back and see His hands in every part of my life, even at the worst times and in the worst moments. He has never let me down and He has never let me go. He's not given up on me and I refuse to give up on myself and the purpose and plans He has for my life.
I've shared this Bible story before but it's one of my favorites. In John chapter 9, Jesus and disciples are walking and come across a man who has been blind from birth. The disciples, curious minds that they were, wanted to know...why? What happened that this man was born blind? Did he do something wrong? Did his parents do something wrong? What could the reason for his affliction be? Jesus' answer is simple yet some of the most powerful words I've ever read. In John 9:3 Jesus answers them, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him." Boom. Mic drop. Exit stage right. That sums it all up. My life's ultimate purpose is to display His incredible and powerful works, to bring Him glory, to be a vessel for Him to be seen through, to used to be His hand and His feet, and even be His heart with every part of the half of mine He gave me.
Don't get me wrong. I don't have it all down. Not at all. I'm still very much on this journey. I'm still discovering my purpose and learning to embrace the unique imperfections in my body that God perfectly and uniquely designed. There are days when CHD gets the best of me and I have a 5 minute pity party and even hed a tear or two. Then there are days when I'm loving every minute of having half a heart. (Usually when I don't have to participate in some form of manual labor and get to take a nap!) Congential Heart Disease is a life long illness, so it's not going anywhere anytime soon. The journey will continue to change as life changes. The one thing I know will remain constant is God. He is perfect in all His ways. I am perfect in the way He made me. I am living my life with purpose to be the best Emily, the Emily with a half of a heart that He created me to be. Isn't that the best?
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