To Be or Not to Be: All in God’S Time

By Abigail Steele

Have you ever told yourself you would never do something or be a certain kind of person? Have you always had in the back of your mind exactly how your life was going to turn out? To Be or Not to Be entails a journey in which it takes one person over ten years before they finally figure out their true path is not of their own but Gods will. This author will take you through various events (both good and bad) that in the end will fall together for Gods own purpose.

We are still struggling in places, but now we know God has a reason for everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Oct 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781512758184

Abigail Steele

Abigail Steele has a bachelors degree in middle grades education and a masters degree in education administration. She has taught in multiple states with a wide variety of professional educators as well as various environments. She lives with her husband and three children in Louisiana.

Book preview

Copyright © 2016 Abigail Steele.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-5127-5819-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-5820-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5127-5818-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016915995

WestBow Press rev. date: 09/26/2016

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 Dreams

Chapter 2 Life Changes

Chapter 3 Prepared or Not

Chapter 4 Break Time

Chapter 5 Taking a Leap

Chapter 6 Community

Chapter 7 Kick in the Pants

Chapter 8 Uncontrollable

Chapter 9 Pizza

Chapter 10 All For the Love of the Game

Chapter 11 Stupid

Chapter 12 Drug Addiction

Chapter 13 Never a Dull Moment

Chapter 14 Brokenhearted

Chapter 15 Moving … Again

Chapter 16 Conclusion

This book is dedicated to all the teachers out there who are educating our next set of adults. No one will ever understand what it takes to be a teacher until they have become one. A teacher has so much influence over a child’s life, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for putting your heart and soul into the lives of these children. I hope this book will bring a little reminder of how God is using you in more ways than you may realize.

To all my students, thank you so much for teaching me more than they showed us in college. Thank you for giving me stories to share amongst others. You all have really helped me see how valuable each and every one of you are. You are loved more than you can ever imagine.

Preface

I F YOU HAD ASKED ME if I would ever write a book, I would have laughed so hard my head would have fallen off. I never liked English classes and really could not wait to finish them and get out. However, I am now in a place where I look around 360 degrees and nothing is what I envisioned it to be. I definitely did not get my way, but instead God showed me His way. Sometimes I was so blind that I basically needed a slap in the face to wake me up; however, I am so glad He did. Through God’s lessons I have learned much more than I would have a textbook. I have learned to love everyone for who they are and not judge a person by the actions they take. This book was written when I put faith in the Lord Jesus Christ to lead me where He wanted me to go. I am not sure exactly who this book is for, but it is all for God’s will.

Acknowledgments

I WOULD LIKE TO THANK my family for believing in me when I went on a completely different path than I originally thought I would. To my husband, for giving me the time and trusting in God that this is what He wants us to do. To WestBow Press, for dealing with my unending questions and giving me the support I needed throughout all of this. Most of all, I thank God for putting me in the situations I have been in and teaching me every step along the way. Only He knows what I am capable of, and it has shown to be much more than I ever thought possible.

Chapter 1

Dreams

H AVE YOU EVER WONDERED WHY you are who you are or whether or not you can actually control what you will be when you get older? As I was growing up, it seemed like my future was already laid out. Since I had uncontrolled seizures, I would be staying with my parents for the rest of my life. Given that we lived in a small town away from city limits, I would have to find someone to drive me everywhere I went. I was not about to let that happen. Nothing against my parents; they have been a tremendous support throughout my life. I wanted to be independent and not have to rely on others. That was my number one goal.

My life has been twisted and turned around in so many ways that what I thought I wanted to do when I was younger was the exact opposite of what I found God wanted me to do. It was not an easy path. In fact, there are many times I put aside the idea of what direction He wanted me to go, thinking it was too funny to even imagine.

I had my heart set on becoming a famous country singer, like Reba McEntire and Martina McBride. I was going to be a well-known artist. Ever since I made that decision, I knew that was the path I was heading toward. No one could stop me. I was going to make it big … or so I thought.

I had only been to three public schools through my twelfth-grade year; it seemed to me like a lifetime. There were not many memories from grade school or junior high, and I’m not exactly sure why that is. Growing up with epilepsy did not make it easy. However, nothing really changed from junior high to high school, and yet I remember more things from high school than any other time.

The high school I went to was a part of the small town of Hills, Illinois. The town had a population of less than one thousand; just recently the number was officially changed from having three digits to four. It was a big step for our little town! We had a lot of farming communities around us, which made us big on agricultural stuff. I only say stuff because I have no idea what there is except planting, growing, and picking vegetables. You see, I was not one of those agricultural people. The closest I came was as a passenger while a friend of mine did mud circles on the soccer field. I was not into getting a cow to be the perfect size and shape for the fair. It just was not me. Instead of doing agricultural work, I had to find something else that fit me.

Since my seizures were not controlled, I could not drive anywhere for a real job at that time. All I could do was walk to the gas station across the highway; there were no other jobs for high school kids in this tiny town. The owner of the gas station was also a parent of a few children around my age. In order to secure a spot, you had to be really good friends with his children. After trying once and not even getting called for an interview, I decided to stick with what I knew best—babysitting.

Babysitting was fun for me. I could act like a fool and it would make the kids laugh. Some of the things I did I definitely would not do it in front of anyone my age or older. I would probably be put in a loony bin! But I loved it.

I enjoyed all the kids I babysat. When a parent called me up for a second time, I had a feeling we hit it off. There was only one family I was surprised did not call me back. It was the first time I had ever babysat a male infant. Long story short, I did not prepare myself for the fountain after the diaper came off. It was a mess that hit every kind of surface possible. I tried my best to clean it all up, but I knew I missed something. That was the first—and last—time I ever babysat a boy in diapers.

There was a family who lived in a house just down the street from mine. The family consisted of one mother and her four children. This house and yard were rarely kept clean due to the mother being out so often to work for her little ones. It was not the house that I remember so well about this family; it was how the kids grew up right in front of me. At one point, I was changing the youngest child’s diapers, and then before I knew it, she had graduated high school.

My mom taught me a lot when it came to babysitting. She taught me how to not let the children walk all over you and still have fun with them at the same time. We both went to the schools in Hills, and we even shared some of the same teachers. We would talk about our individual experiences when it came to our K–12 education, and we found that we were similar but were exact opposites when it came to our social status in school. My mom happened to be the popular one, whereas I was voted the shyest in my class.

I do not remember everything from high school. There are, however, the particular teachers who I reminisce about. My science and mathematics teacher, Mrs. Reed, was one I will never forget. Being in such a small school (about fifty students per grade), I had her for quite a few of my classes. Rather than being known for her looks, she was acknowledged more for how weird she was. She would be giving out notes, along with formulas and definitions, when all of a sudden she would show some excitement or tell a silly story to go along with it. Still sitting at her stool, she would make the craziest sounds, motions, and facial expressions. I now realize her uniqueness is what kept me awake and alert in her class. She was bizarre, but she would also be serious when necessary. Not only did I have her for a teacher, but she was also a leader in one of our high school clubs: World Travelers.

After a couple of years earning money, the members of our club got to go to Europe with Mrs. Reed. She made sure to keep a good eye on us simply for our safety. At every location we came to and left, she would take a head count to be sure no one was left behind at any time. I thought she was crazy. We were responsible enough—at least I was (or so I thought).

It was a great experience altogether. We got to meet a skinhead—which I never knew existed at the time—on one of the trains we took. As my friends and I were playing a game of cards, a couple of Caucasian males asked to see if they could play with us. The only thing I can remember about what they looked like is that they were bald, only not because of age or heritage. They shaved their heads and made it look like a baby’s bottom; it was that smooth. After we had gotten off the train, we were informed that they were skinheads. I was very surprised. I would have acted totally different had I known that at that time; I probably would not have been as social as I was.

We got to see a wide variety of things, including the changing of the guard, various castles, the Eiffel Tower, and much more. There was one day I will never forget—the day I went against the rules.

Being a sophomore in high school, I thought I knew a lot about what was right and wrong. We were told not to go anywhere without another person next to us, but I did not understand why. The thought that automatically came to my mind was how I could not be left alone, being an epileptic. To me it felt like I was not capable of taking care of myself.

Nothing could happen to me—or so I thought. Since I was out to prove Mrs. Reed wrong, I decided to go somewhere alone. I made sure to watch my clock and be at the right location at the right time to prove to her I could be trusted. I went to a few little shops to see what unique items I could get to show off to my family at home. I remember seeing a purple hippo Beanie Baby and thought, We must not have this in the United States, and so I bought it for fourteen dollars. After getting back to the States, I found I could have bought one there for around ten. Turned out it wasn’t as European as I thought it was.

I made sure to be at our meeting location by the appointed time before anyone else was there. Mrs. Reed was one of the next few to arrive. She asked me who I went with, and I gave her a little speech about why I could be trusted and did not need someone to be with me at all times. The punishment I got was having to remain with her the rest of the evening. Really, it was a blessing. I was being forced to be with a teacher who I really enjoyed. Looking back, I can understand why she was not too happy with me. Even if I was honest and trustworthy, I still had epilepsy, and you never know what kind of people are around you. Who knows what could have happened?

Mrs. Reed taught us a lot, both in school and out. It was really devastating for me when I found out she had left the school after becoming pregnant with her son. No matter what, she will remain a great influence on me.

I could write an entire book on the many teachers I have had, as we all have our good and bad stories to tell. However, there was one teacher who impacted me greatly, not only due to seeing her for three years in a row or teaching my favorite classes. She impacted me in such a way that I look back and think, She knew it all along. She was my high school music teacher, Mrs. C.

Mrs. Campbell—most of us called her Mrs. C—was the band and choir director at my high school starting my sophomore year. At the time, I was not too fond of getting a new instructor. The one prior to her had a great ability to add to music. In fact, it was because of his willingness to mess around on the keyboard that I sang my first solo ever. I sang Daddy’s Hands by Holly Dunn in a key lower than it was originally written. He added his own accompaniment to the song, making it sound like it was made just for me. I received so much praise for that solo, I was then envisioning myself becoming a famous singer. My goal then was to study music in college and to go on to make my own album. I knew if I simply kept practicing, I could succeed in anything I put my heart into. After that teacher left the school, I thought I would never be able to match up to the performance again.

Mrs. C was a different kind of teacher. She had the knowledge necessary to teach, but she also had a huge heart that would pick up a child whenever necessary. If there was something wrong going on in a child’s life, she would be an open ear. Throughout the years, I became closer to Mrs. C; other people would probably describe me as the teacher’s pet. I would help hand things out, play the piano, assist with grading papers (when it was allowed back in the day), etc. She made music fun and yet organized. Whatever she said, I did. All I had to do was follow directions and then get that A in her class. There was one suggestion she made to me my senior year that ended up changing my life forever.

I was, in a sense, forced to learn how to play the piano. The local church we went to did not have an accompanist for quite some time, and we had a piano at our house just sitting there. Before long, my parents set me up with a friend to teach me how to play. On the days I wanted to give up, I was reminded how beautiful it sounded having a pianist at our church. I look back and