When my parents married, they each had children from previous marriages. Daddy had three daughters, and mama had a son. I’d look at photographs and didn’t see anyone I really looked like. As I grew, I was the short, chubby cousin. My brothers had the good thick, curly hair from mama. My eyes weren’t the same color as anyone else’s. I would wonder just where I came from and where did I fit in this puzzle called family.
Daddy had been raised in an orphanage and was separated from his older sister and brother when he was about 14 or 15. Life got in the way of his searching for them, but the summer I was 12 he found them both living within 100 miles of each other between Tampa and Orlando, FL. He could hardly wait to get us packed up and hit the road! I figured this would just mean more people I didn’t fit it in with.
Imagine my surprise when this lovely lady opened the front door, hugged my daddy, and turned to me and said, “I’m your Aunt Lucy. I’m so glad to meet you.” There I stood, years older of course, but I looked like Aunt Lucy! Then she introduced me to her daughter and the likeness was uncanny. Suddenly, I fit in — I belonged.
But even without that sense of belonging, as I grew in my Christian faith I learned that I had no cause to worry about fitting in or belonging.