Not My Story

I've spent several days mulling this over... which is the only explanation I have for my absence lately.    I'm having a hard time with everything. Life isn't quite what I thought it would be. I thought for sure by now I'd have a kid. If not a kid, I'd have a job. And if I didn't have either of those, I'd be in killer shape and my house would be too.  
That's not my story.
I don't have a job. There are a few applications out there, but the opportunities here are few, far and in between. I don't have a kid either. There's an explanation for that too. I am not in killer shape, and my apartment is cluttered at best.  My story is a constant battle with those things and the lovely comparison-is-the-thief-of-joy demons that come along with it.  

I went to the doctor recently, hoping that my cyst had gone away. That wasn't the case. I don't get to start Clomid. Instead, I get a laparoscopy and dye test with complimentary (I amuse myself) cyst removal.  I didn't want this to be my story. I didn't want to be the girl who needed surgery to get pregnant. I don't want to have the sad story of how it took so long to get pregnant. I didn't want to have surgery in a foreign country.... but that's my story. 

I've focused so much recently on all the things my story isn't. It wasn't till some prayer and great news from great friends that I got my head back on track. 

This past Sunday a ministry that I am a part of started discussing plans for Mother's day. Yes, we start this early. As I was listening to the plans, I realized that there is reason for my issues, and a reason for being placed on this council. I spoke up-I mentioned how awkward, uncomfortable, and downright painful church on Mother's Day can be. That if you are a woman of childbearing age sans child, you feel less than. That when they have all the moms stand up in service, a  piece of the infertile woman's heart drops to her stomach. That there are all sorts of people with issues with mother's day, and we need to respect those. Not everyone has a great relationship with their mom, or with their kids. Some mothers and children are no longer with us. 

 I was given the chance and I stood up for those women. The plans shifted, then, to be more kind and fair to all women. All because one person spoke up. I don't say this to give me some sort of praise for all I do-I do very little, and this was just a comment. But it was a comment that I was able to use to galvanize me into a better place mentally, and a more productive place.  So what is my story?

My story is about sharing experiences to create an easier time for all.

My story is about how one doctor can make all the difference.

My story is about how it's okay to fall down sometimes... and it's okay to stay down for a little while. 

My story is about how some of the smallest gestures make the biggest differences. 

My story is about volunteering.

My story is about being  empathetic.

My story is about never giving up. 

My story is about doing all I can for the people I know and love... and those I know and don't love.... and those I don't know.

What's your story about?