I’m Not Short, I’m a Fun Size

My prayer partner and I in matching dresses.
Though the same size, I am actually 20 years older than her

For those who know me, I’m sure it’s no secret I’m extremely short.  At 29 years old, I stand at the towering height of 4 foot 9.  I love my size, but my diminutive stature causes me to look 12-15 years younger than I am.  I can’t tell you the countless times I’ve been offered a children’s menu at restaurants as an adult in my late 20’s.  There are times it’s been frustrating, but I’ve learned to own my uniqueness, I’ve learned to laugh at the blunders it can bring from others. Learning to laugh at the questions I get from people because of my Polly Pocket status, is an art I’m so glad I mastered, because it got me through when I experienced the blunder to end all blunders.

         It was spring semester of my junior year at Asbury.  At this point in my college career I was gaining confidence I had never had before.  New possibilities were on the horizon.  Basically, I was gaining a swag I never knew I had. 

         One night I was having dinner in the cafeteria with my roommate.  This particular evening, I decided to venture out and see if there was anything good at the main buffet, even though I usually opted to get a sandwich, a salad, a piece of pizza, or even a bowl of cereal. 

         I took my place in the back of the line and in front of me was a girl, not much taller than myself.  She kept looking over her shoulder at me, so I offered a smile, which caused her to face me. When I saw this girl’s face, I immediately thought she was a freshman or possibly even a prospective student checking out the campus. 

         “Can I ask you a question?”

         “Sure!” I said enthusiastically thinking she’s going to ask me something like where the biology building was or for directions to the library.  I was fully ready to give Asbury an amazing endorsement and reasons why she should attend my college.

         “Are you a dwarf?” She asked very serious and solemnly as if she was about to give me a diagnosis, which little did I know she was. 

         I stared at her for a few seconds, absolutely baffled at what I had just been asked.  “Um, no, I’m not a dwarf.  I’m just really short.”

         She looked at me compassionately, as if she was about to deliver a bombshell.  “I actually really think you are.  You see, I did a paper on dwarfism and I’m pretty sure you’re a dwarf.”

         I thought it was unreal for her to ask me this in the first place, but for her to argue with the answer I gave her, made me feel as if I was being punked.  I can only imagine the “are you for real,” look I had on my face.

         “Uhhh, no I promise you I’m not a dwarf. I’m just extremely short.”

         But once again, I was wrong.  “I think  you are, because I wrote a paper on dwarfism.”

         Completely floored, I knew I had to put an end to this conversation. I raised my hand to keep her from talking again, “I promise I’m not a dwarf. But you have a great night,” and walked away sure I just had an out of body experience. 

         I finally managed to get dinner and sat down to eat with my roommate.  “So a girl in the main line just asked me if I was a dwarf.”

         “She did what?!”

         “Yep, and when I told her I wasn’t, she assured me I was because she had done a paper on dwarfism.”

Me with my friends...though the same age,
they tower over me

         My experience that night was a source of much laughter for my roommate and I the rest of the semester, but little did we know, the laughter was just beginning. 

         Fast forward to fall semester of my senior year.  I had a journalism class in the media communications building on the second floor.  I made my way out of the elevator, turned the corner and found out that God indeed does have a sense of humor. Lo and behold, there in the lobby that I had to pass through to get to my class, was the girl who asked me if I was a dwarf.  Out of a student body of 1200 people, I would have to come face to face with the girl who gave me my unexpected diagnosis seven months earlier. 

I began to walk pass her and our eyes met.  I smiled at her, determined no matter what I would be kind.

“You look familiar,” she told me.

“Umm, I guess you look kind of familiar too,” not daring to tell her who I was. 

Suddenly, her eyes got as wide as saucers, “You’re that girl I thought was a dwarf!”

Chuckling in utter disbelief, “Yep, that’s me.”

“But aren’t you really a dwarf?”  She asked in a last ditch effort to persuade me.

“No, I’m not.  Look at my body it’s—

“It’s not proportional is it?” she jumped in to finish my sentence.

“Umm, yes it’s proportional.  But I’ve got to get to class.  You have a great day.”

I walked away, trying to suppress my laughter.  Because really what else could you do,  but double over in laughter at this surreal, yet very real story.  My only prayer was she never saw me walking on campus with my Mom, because that would have really blown her mind.

So the take away from this hilarity is this. I don’t know what you have that makes you unique or stand out, but I encourage you to own it! When someone makes a blunder at your expense, laugh it off, because God made you knowing how much this world needed you.  After all, learning to laugh at yourself when someone makes you feel small, will only cause you to grow— no pun intended. 

God-Size Dreams

         

          Lately, God-size dreams have been on my mind.

I’ve thought about the God-size dreams and goals I want to achieve in the future, but also victories already written. This week, one particular dream that came true for me keeps coming to mind.

A dream where I stood in the same spot so many remarkable individuals stood before me and after me.  It was a dream I dared to hope for— but never thought would come to pass.

When I first stepped foot at Asbury University, I was so insecure. Stepping out of my comfort zone was difficult and when I did, I felt so exposed. As a teenager, there were many times people my age made me feel inadequate and small. Eventually, I had no confidence in myself.

But my very first night at Asbury, a God-size dream began to take root in my heart— to share my story in chapel. 

Almost every student who spoke in chapel began their speech with the phrase, “If you would have told me my freshman year I would be up here speaking in chapel, I wouldn’t have believed you.”  The phrase was used so much, that now it’s considered overused and cliché, but it’s proof speaking in chapel was and is one of the highest of accolades. 

I truly believe God used Asbury to mend my wounded heart. I made friends who saw my worth, encouraging me to share the story God gave me.  I began stepping out of my comfort zone, pursuing roles I would never dream of fulfilling. One of those roles was applying and accepting to be a hall chaplain my senior year, or as Asbury coined it, SLA. With all of these doors opening up for me, God was showing me I was More than I ever thought of myself.

Koinonia was what all the SLA hall meetings were called, meaning Christian fellowship or communion, with God or with fellow Christians, and that’s exactly what I was a part of – A season of precious memories and sweet friendships. 

Comically, before every Koinonia, the SLA must yell the word at the top of their lungs down the hall to assemble everyone. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to muster a big enough shout to let everyone know it was time for our SLA meeting.  I stepped out of my room and hollered Koinonia, surprising myself at the range my lungs were capable of yelling.  I walked back into my room to my roommate’s wide eyes, “I think they heard you,” she told me dryly.

That first night, I felt impressed to share my story. I told the other women about my disease and the obstacles it brought. Little did I know by sharing my story, God was going to open an unexpected door.   

About a month after that Koinonia, one of the women on my hall texted me, telling me there was something she wanted to talk to me about. I was baffled because I had no clue what she might want to discuss. A few hours later, she came to me explaining she was the on the chapel committee who chose students to speak in the student chapels.  My story had really touched her and she wondered if I would share it in chapel in two weeks.  Immediately, I threw my arms around her and began bawling.  I was so overwhelmed, my God-size dream was coming true.

The next two weeks was a struggle because I had to somehow fit 23 years of trials and triumphs into 12 minutes.  Several drafts and practice sessions later, November 7^th, 2011 came.

 To say I was nervous was an understatement.

  After prayer and a beautiful introduction by my roommate on my behalf, I made my way up to adjust the mic, and to my sheer panic it wouldn’t stay up!  Every time I moved it up, it flopped downward.   I was able to keep a smile on my face and laugh with the audience, but in my head, I was frantically thinking, I only have 12 minutes and I’m wasting them because of this stupid microphone!  Finally, I turned the device a complete 180 and somehow it stayed in place. I truly believe Jesus was holding it for me.  Ironically, it turned out to be a complete ice breaker.  It calmed my nervous heart and it lightened the mood of the audience, making them interested in what I had to say. 

For 12 minutes, I addressed over 1200 students and professors sharing with them how faithful God had been to me in the midst of adversity, and God gave me the voice and ability to share my journey and impact others.  After chapel, men and women I didn’t even know hugged me and thanked me for sharing my story. 

The icing on the cake of this experience was when I was contacted by the yearbook staff at the end of the year, asking if I would accept the senior superlative nomination of, “Most Likely to be Invited Back to Speak in Chapel.”  Confirmation to me, I truly had something to offer. 

Isn’t that just how God works though?  When He brings a God-size dream to pass, He always gives you affirmation your dream matters, allowing you to move mountains with it.  I don’t know what desires have taken root in your heart, but I hope my story encourages you to never stop climbing that mountain until you have reached your God-size dream.