One thing that I’ve always held onto and fought for above everything else is my family. No matter what situation we’re going through or what my relationship is to any of the members, I will protect them and honor them. I will take care of them regardless of what my emotions may be. These feelings were born and instilled in me since I was a child growing up in a military family. Regardless of how great I was doing in school, how many friends I had or hadn’t made, or what sports teams I had made we were guaranteed to move every three years. Yeah, this was a huge bummer sometimes but it solidified the concept that my three best friends in the world were my siblings and that even if all of our stuff was in boxes and we had no clue who the kids down the street were, we could at least still play with each other. But there was something else that was always lingering in my mind and that was a simple, scary truth- I am so ridiculously different from them.
I’m not just talking about the surface level things but we can start with those. For instance, my dad is an oncologist and my mom has a master’s in journalism. Between them they carried me through all of my chemistry, biology, and English classes. They could write a book titled “Creative ways Our Daughter Got in Trouble at School” and probably retire off of the profits but they choose to keep being good at the things that they’re good at. Thank God for Glenn and Elizabeth Preston. Then there are my siblings who are each brilliant in their own way. My brother is compassionate and understanding and sees solutions before he sees problems. He is perseverance and strong coffee. My sister-in-law is everything that is fun and exciting about life. She is loud laughter and sprinkles. My older sister is quiet and reasoning and fair. She will understand before she speaks and passes judgment. She is sound wisdom and a listening ear. My younger sister is every single thing that I love wrapped up into one precious little bundle of sass. She will run on the mountaintops with you and crawl through the valleys right next to you. She is glamour and ambition and sugar free red bull.
Do you see the picture I’m painting here? My family is incredible. I’ve known that ever since, literally, forever. I differ from them in so many ways. For instance, they each have chosen one thing that interests them and pursued it. But me? I’ve had my hands in so many different fields and have loved each one. It’s hard to pursue anything when EVERYTHING looks great. Being a doctor would be awesome, but what about building houses for a living- oh wait, I guess SOMEONE has to train the dolphins at Sea World. You get where I’m going with this? They have degrees and five year plans and I have tattoos and a full passport.
The purpose of this blog isn’t to have a pity party or beat myself up for not being just like the rest of my family. Instead I wanted to brag about my wonderful family and write briefly about how I’ve come to realize that no detail about me is a mistake. Not my wandering heart, not my inability to sit still, and not even my love of stupid and mischievous jokes. God has shown me that he makes himself known in the details of our lives and the characteristics of ours spirits. He knows how many hairs are on my head, how in love I’ve always been with the stars, and how hard I laugh at all my own jokes. He knows everything and he loves me. He has been showing me through the race that regardless of the dynamics back home, I fit perfectly into his family.
