I had a bad spina bifida day yesterday. Really bad. Super bad. My family has been struggling financially for a while now, so I ran out into the world to find a job, and I took the first job that called me back. I was going to make sandwiches. I could make sandwiches. Anybody can make sandwiches. Easy peasy. I had nailed the interview, and my new boss and I were very excited for me to start, so I woke up early yesterday morning, got showered, put that shiny new uniform on, and walked out the door, ready to make the world’s sandwich dreams come true!
But I forgot something. It’s something I forget often, and sometimes that’s a good thing. Here it is. I’m disabled. I’m paralyzed from the knees down. And I was going to make sandwiches. On my feet. All day long. All. Day. Long.
Uh…oops. I forgot.
See, I was raised that basically I can do anything I put my mind to, and in some ways, that’s absolutely the truth. I can do ALL THINGS THROUGH CHRIST, WHO STRENGTHENS ME. Absolutely. But here’s the deal. I was put in this body for a reason. It has limitations. And whatever I do, I must remember I can only do THROUGH CHRIST. It is only THROUGH HIM, and for HIS purposes, that I am able to do anything at all. My body has limitations, because I’m kind of a stubborn little thing, and I truly, honestly, think I can and SHOULD do EVERYTHING. But I’m wrong. I should ONLY do the things which CHRIST gives me strength to do. That’s my purpose here, and the ONLY way to true fullfillment. I can’t do everything, because I’m not supposed to. I’m supposed to do “Misty” things.
God created each of us with a specific purpose and a specific task that only we can do. Sandwich making is NOT my task. I couldn’t reach the pickles, y’all. For real. That girl who trained me yesterday? She’s the sandwich maker. She’s the bomb at making a sandwich. She’s supposed to make the sandwiches.
When I announced on social media yesterday that I had started and quit a job within a span of 3 hours, I was embarrassed that my body had quit on me. I was embarrassed to have had to call my boss and quit on her. I spent a lot of yesterday crying. My best friend bought me too many margaritas in order to drown out my disability. In the spina bifida world, we call those “disabilitinies.” They’re delicious, even if unhealthy.
When I got up this morning, I checked back into social media, still a little embarrassed about my failure. Here’s what I found…
Multiple messages of encouragement.
Lots of love.
Cyber hugs like crazy.
SEVERAL inquiries as to whether I had ever considered becoming a writer. SEVERAL. Because I’d be good at it. Because I’m gifted.
Can I make sandwiches? Nope. I can’t. I really can’t. I’m really terrible at it. And that’s okay. Because I’m not a sandwich maker. I’m a writer, like God told me years ago. I just needed a reminder, and I really am one of His most stubborn children. Someone else can make the sandwiches. I can’t. That’s not what I’m here for.
Gotta run. Need to go turn in my sandwich uniform. It doesn’t fit.