Everyone went to school with at least one weird kid. In third grade, the one that stands out for me was the girl who told everyone she was the princess of Saturn. Sadly, her planet was going through an intergalactic war, and she was sent to Earth for her safety. She missed her planet so much, but she was able to stay in touch with her people through the communicator hidden in her Holly Hobby lunchbox. Nobody else could see it though. It only worked for her. She put her jacket over her head after her ham and cheese to enter the zone.
The rest of the class loved the stories about Saturnia, her capitol city. They longed to go with her to visit so they could see the beautiful rings and witness multiple moons. Her stories of the rocky horizon views were breathtaking. The palace sounded like such a magical place, and the advanced technology they used in their spacecrafts was mind-boggling. Her teenage brother was busy fighting the aggressors from Neptune. He loved his little sister, but he worried about her constantly. After their father had been killed in a bombing at the palace, her brother sent her away. They were now orphans, and he was determined to protect her at any cost. But she was homesick, and she spent much of her time in communication with her world.
The other children laughed at first, but she was so adamant about this being her reality that they soon began to believe it…or at least they pretended well. She was so different from her classmates that it almost made more sense for her to be alien than human. Looking back, I think she had such a vivid imagination she almost believed it herself. People develop funny ways of coping when they don’t fit in well.
I no longer believe I’m the princess of Saturn, but I still exist on the fringes. Maybe I was dropped on my head as an infant. Maybe I’m a freak of nature. Or maybe I’m just wired a little bit different. In any case, I spent much of my elementary years with my head in a lunchbox…or a book…or writing stories when I should have been doing math.
A few years ago, I met my soul mate. One of the things I love most about my husband is that he accepts me for me. He told me once he didn't love me "in spite of" my weirdness but "because of " it. Wow.
It just recently dawned on me that God sees us the same way. He doesn't say, "Heather is really strange, but I can use her in this anyway...I mean, hey, I AM God. I can even make something of THAT mess." No. I think he uses me BECAUSE of my weirdness. It's more like, "I can use Heather BECAUSE of her differences." After all, he made me. He knows me inside and out. He knows the good. He knows the bad. And he loves me.
How awesome is that? I still don't always claim to know what he's thinking...in fact, most of the time I have no clue. But I do know he made me for a purpose.
What if my nerdy interest in sci-fi is the only reason someone becomes friends with me, and that leads them to Christ? What if my creativity led to a gift for someone who was about to give up hope? What if my imagination inspired someone else? What if NONE of it ever makes sense? That's ok. God knows more than me anyway. So I choose to embrace my madness. Live long and prosper!