By Erin Elizabeth Austin

I often surprise people when I tell them I had a horrible self-esteem as a child/teenager. Those who know me today can’t imagine the shy, quiet Erin of years gone by. Truth be told, I had more than a low self-esteem. I hated myself and longed to be anyone other than me. For several years in high school, I avoided mirrors because I didn't want to be reminded of how hideous I was. Because of this self-loathing, I set-out to improve myself. I vowed to be the best at everything I did because I “knew” this would improve my self-worth.

So I worked, and I worked hard. I might not be supermodel material, but I had a brain and a little bit of talent. I pushed myself to be one of the top students in my class. I won awards in the state of North Carolina for my skill as a clarinetist, and I made a name for myself as one of the best writers on the school paper. I even won an award for my journalism prowess. By the time I graduated from college, I had a GPA of 3.94. I had worked extremely hard and achieved a great deal, but if I’m honest, it wasn't enough. I still wasn't satisfied with myself. I still wished I was someone else. Oh, I felt I had more value as a person than I did before I achieved these things, yet I felt like my worth was based on what I accomplished, which created a huge problem for me when I became too sick to work.

I sat down for my interview, nervous but excited. God had provided the money to attend this writers' conference, and I knew in my heart God was going to do something amazing. Why else would He go to so much trouble to get me here?

As I went to the first of what would be many interviews, I couldn't help but hope my dream of becoming a published writer would begin with this meeting. Maybe it sounds silly, but I hoped and prayed others would catch the vision of what I felt God calling me to write. So I waited with bated breath as the interview began, and what I heard broke my heart. Not only did the person interviewing me not catch my vision, but he thought I was wasting my time. I was told I was a good writer, but I was a nobody and who would care to read anything I've written?

When I started this ministry, the phrase "broken but priceless" became a regular part of my vocabulary. I chose the name Broken but Priceless Ministries because of an important truth God has taught me through being sick. Far too long I had allowed myself to believe that because I have a broken body, I am worth less than people who are healthy. Yet God helped me see that He deems me to be valuable. To Him, I am priceless. Even though the world says people who are sick and handicapped can offer little, God says it's not true. Thankfully, He has taught me how to look at myself the way He looks at me. I've learned God is far more concerned with my spiritual and emotional health then He is with my body. Yet I've found that the majority of people who suffer with a chronic illness have allowed the disease to take more than their health. They've allowed the disease to break their spirit.

When a person is diagnosed with a disease, he has two options as to how he will allow the disease to affect his emotional and spiritual well-being. The first is he can use the disease to strengthen who he is as a person. The second is to become broken in body, mind, and spirit. This happens because he allows himself to become defeated. Having done both of these things, I can honestly say that even though the second option is the easiest choice, it is not the best decision.

Tomorrow is my 28th birthday. I have to confess that for a few days last week I was a little down about my birthday. It's not that I think I'm getting old or anything like that. The problem is I had so many hopes and dreams that I had planned to accomplish by this time in my life. I had planned to be married. I figured I would already have my first child, and I would have a home of my own. Yet none of these dreams has been made a reality.

As I began to wallow in self-pity and take on an Eeyore-like personality, I realized that I was looking at my birthday all wrong. Rather than viewing my birthday as a day to look at all my failures, I should see it as a day to celebrate. God has brought me through so much. John 10:10 says, "The thief (Satan) comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."

I've worked with children and teenagers for eleven years. For nine of those years, I've been sick. I was diagnosed with lupus my senior year in high school. There hasn't been a single day of my adult life when I haven't been sick. Because of this, it's been impossible to be around someone for a prolonged period of time without them knowing my health isn't always as I would like it to be.

Every group of kids I've worked with has known I'm sick. Although it's not a frequent topic of conversation, it is known by all that Ms. Erin has days she is exhausted and doesn't feel well. Despite knowing this, my illness isn't what children think of when they think of me. To them, I'm not a sick person - someone with a horrible disease. To them, I'm just me. They see me for who I am. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for most adults.