Crazy Big Cats and a Questioning Crisis

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First things first: this is my new pet tiger.

His name is Dhiren, and I drew him into existence myself (with a little help from this video). If you understand why I named him Dhiren, you’re awesome. If not, thou musteth goeth and readeth Tiger’s Curse by Colleen Houck immediately. Go on; I’ll wait.

OK, so I won’t. It’s a long book, but totally worth the read.

Anywho... Moving on.

So, like most teenagers when they start to reach the end of their high school years, I’ve been thinking a lot about college lately. Since I’m home schooled and a little bit ahead, I was really hoping to be able to finish everything and start college next school year.

But, as I get closer and closer, it's beginning to look less and less like that's going to happen. So, I thought, "Well, I've gotta push harder. Finish this. Get good grades in that. I've got to start college."

But then I started to ask myself why? Why am I doing this to myself? It's not like college is a big deal for me. While I might like to be a teacher, my main passion is writing, and I'm already working toward that goal. Honestly, I don't even know if I want to go to college. The very idea scares the heck outta me.

So why was I pushing myself so hard? Why was I stressing, turning it into such a big deal?

I thought about it for a while and I found that, among other things, it was mostly a shallow, vanity issue.

When I was younger I was really shy – still am if I'm telling the truth, so it wasn't like I was friendless, but I wasn't exactly the life of the party either. I can't act or sing particularly well, and unless Marathon Reading is a sport, I'm not going anywhere in that direction either. I've never really thought there was anything great about me, except that I'm a nerd. That I've always been pretty good at school, pulling out A's in some subjects without even trying. And when I did have to try, I tried hard, pushing myself to the very limit to get that A.

Obviously none of that is a bad thing in and of itself. But I started to wonder why I was doing it. Why did I care so much? Why did it matter that I started high school at 11? Why'd it matter if I graduated from high school before my peers? Why did I lose my mind those times I got a B or – Heaven help me – a C?

Because that was what I was letting define me. I was Alexa the Nerd. Alexa the Smart One. I could make the grade without batting an eyelash, even though kids 2, 3 years older than me could barely make a B or C.

And I felt good about that.

Again not a bad thing. Unless I'm letting that define who I am.

My identity is not in the fact that I started high school at 11. It's not in the fact that, had I stayed on track, I could've graduated at 15. It's not in a high GPA or a mostly-A's record.

My identity is in Jesus Christ. Because no matter what my grades are, no matter what I do or what happens to me, He loves me just the same. He is my Lord, my Savior, my God, and my King, and His love is what will get me through it all.

So yes, I am Alexa the Nerd. And yes, I am Alexa the Smart One. But more than that, even when I am the Dumb One (which happens often, believe me), I'm still Alexa, Daughter of the King, and that is the number one, best, most important thing that I can be.