Before you begin to read this, please know that I am not throwing a pity party and I am not seeking accolades; merely writing about my epiphany at the grocery store today when the output at the cashier’s stand shriveled what was left in the bank account.

My entire life, I have never been the best at anything. As a child, I was physically strong, but my lack of coordination and clumsiness precluded me from sports. I did tryout for basketball. I failed to make the team. Perhaps because the one basket I made was on the wrong side of the court and counted for the opposing team.

During my entire school career (if you could call it a career), my grade point average and I sat in the middle of my class and never climbed. I was poor at spelling. It took me years to memorize how to spell “pilot.” I depended on my brilliant sister Leslie (writer Leslie P. Garcia) to spell words for me when I was writing. I was too mentally lazy to look them up in the dictionary; besides—in all fairness to myself—my spelling was so convoluted that I couldn’t find the words in the dictionary anyway because my attempts were too far-out. I mean, really…why should an “f” word like physician start with ph? And why should a word like psychiatrist that sounds like it starts with “s” begin with a “ph”?

Math? I was the ultimate disaster in math. It took a student tutor to make me understand that after 100, the numbers start all over again. Even now, figuring out how many months have passed confuses me because it depends on where you start counting. Numbers are used for arithmetic. Letters are used for writing. So why mix numbers and letters and call it a branch of math? Needless to say, I flunked algebra. Twice. When I was painting signs, I would mark the metal yardstick I used to measure lines because I didn’t know how to read the little marks in between in between the inches. Other folks are not the best with math, but I think I must be the most un-best of all.

Singing? I love singing, but we won’t go there. I can’t sing, yet I love to think that I can. It took a college music professor to convince me that for whatever reason—I actually can’t sing.

My joy is writing and I have 45 Christian mystery-romance books to my credit, yet I am not the best writer. Nor are my books bestsellers, although most of them have made the bestselling list briefly at some time. As for making money from writing…that hasn’t happened. Many authors have better sales than I do. Many make more money.

Finances? I have never been the best at finances. I’ve always struggled to make ends meet. Sometimes…they have never met.

I’ve done many things since childhood; painted signs, worked on newspapers, waitressed in restaurants, tamed wild animals, trained domestic animals, done landscaping and rockwork…but I’ve never been the best.

I’ve learned many things, traveled to many states in the U.S.—and now to Scotland—married and divorced, married and buried, married and become a care giver…but I’ve never been the best at any of these pursuits and I’ve never made the best decisions.

Having son Luke was almost the best decision in my life. Asking Jesus into my life and heart is the best decision anyone can ever make and it guarantees that I will be in heaven with Luke when it’s my time to travel to my final destination. So perhaps I have been the best at least once in my life. For some things, once is enough.

“Earnestly desire the best gifts.” I Corinthians 12:31. Jesus is the best gift ever—and He is for all eternity.

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