Some people have grandiose visions for their lives: places they want to go, tasks they want to accomplish—degrees to earn, corporate ladders to climb, money to spend.
I've never been that way.
I've just gone about life and lived it. I don't see five years ahead. I can barely handle the next five weeks/five days/five minutes, thank you very much.
This was exemplified in college. I began my freshman year in that age-old program of "undecided." Because decisions go along with vision, I think. And you may have heard, decision-making has never been my forte
By my second year, I had to choose something. But I'd never envisioned me doing anything—except for being famous. (That vague notion that some movie director would wander by one day and beg me to be in his next film.) So I thought about it. I like to write. Is writing something I can choose as a major? Is writing something I can do as a job? (I was a diligent, straight-A student in high school. Why hadn't I thought about some of this beforehand?) I switched colleges, chose a major, switched majors the next year, but ended up in Journalism, also taking as many other Communications classes as I could.
It worked out for me. I spent 11 years in full-time publishing work, as an assistant editor my first year and then as an editor for another decade. I truly enjoyed what I did. Then I stopped when my husband generously took on more work
so I could stay home with our kiddo.
Twice in the past four years, I've been offered to dive into full-time work again. And my thoughts were:
• Wow. They want me? For that? How awesome! Flattering. Are they really asking me
• I could see me doing that. It sounds like the job of some fancy character in a novel I've read. I could be that woman.
• But I stopped working full-time to give more time as a mom. What would this take away from the kiddo? She won't be young forever.
• They really want me
• Hmmmmmm . . .
If you talked to me back in my early 20s, the goal lowest
on my list was to be a mom. I assumed it would happen some day, but maternal instincts were the least of my skills and therefore the least of my priorities. Putting that off for a long while seemed best. So if I had either of these two job offers back then, I would've jumped at the chance.
But when God brought a daughter into my life, even my vague thoughts of what the future would look like began to change. And the role I feared most and felt the least prepared for became the biggest source of joy. Somehow I became addicted to spending time around this small child. Who knew this kind of love existed? (Well, maybe many people did. But I didn't get it till then!)
And so, faced with giant decisions when I hate deciding—I thought and prayed and then said no to both job offers. Strange that it felt right.
So I continue to freelance and piece together work on a schedule where I can work during school hours. And I have a wonderful husband who works hard to provide this opportunity. Though I could've had some snazzier titles to tell people when asked what I do, I feel a peace and contentment right now. I'm in a season of life I didn't expect to dwell in. But God sure likes to surprise us with blessings when we least expect it.