“Wow! You’re tall! Do you play basketball? Volleyball?”

I’ve become used to disappointing people with the answer “no” to these questions. Most see it as a waste of natural potential. Others just bemoan that they weren’t given the same gift to use for their basketball career. I’ll be honest, it bothered me in high school. The mass of complete strangers insisting that if I just tried harder and practiced more… I could be a sports super star. People always  assumed these sports were where I would find my optimal worth.

Truthfully, the only sport I really enjoyed was soccer. I played for years when I was growing up. I loved running and being outside. I tried not to let the pretty flowers on the sidelines distract me. (They could be picked after the game.) My favorite position was defense. I liked the idea of protecting the goalie. Looking back, I’m grateful for all the team snacks, practice nights, and Saturday games my parents braved in the Houston heat.

Last night I was kicking around a soccer ball with our little ones. We laughed as they bounced back and forth trying to do fancy footwork despite an oversized blow up ball and a long hospital gown. As I watched their efforts, the foot maneuvers I learned with my dad came flooding back… and all of the joy-filled memories with them.

I marveled that maybe this was God’s plan all along. He made me. He knew I would be a nurse. He knew I would have a heart for the health and happiness of not just people at home, but all over the world. So instead of basketball or volleyball… I learned to play soccer. It’s arguably the most internationally embraced game in the world. Go anywhere with a “football” in your hand and you’ll find dozens of friends.

While I played, God gave me some perspective. I don’t have to worry about what other people think I should or shouldn’t do. I don’t have to worry about what other people think I should or shouldn’t be. God knows how He made me. With my eyes fixed on Him, I will be who He created me to be. All the parts fit just right.