Yesterday Monday, I heard Switchfoot on the radio. They are pretty mellow, which is good for Monday mornings, in that loud and obnoxious is bad. I’m in a bit of a transition job-wise and my thoughts are often somewhere in the clouds. Transition seems to call for pondering.
I’ve been given an odd blessing–
I’m starting another part-time position on Wednesday I started a new job today. Two part-time jobs, whew. They are giving me a trial run to see if I’m up to snuff with their fast-paced office. If things work out, I’ll come on full time. While there is a blessing in the job itself, the weirdness is in the part-time consideration. They don’t want me to quit me current job, only to be jobless if things don’t work out with them. Really nice, right?
So that’s my state of mind Monday morning, when I hear:
This is your life, are you who you want to be?
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed it would be?
Just great. Two seemingly innocuous questions that blow gigantic holes in my concept of life. Truth be told, I was caught off guard. I was ripe for the picking because in the back of my mind, I’ve been questioning my choice of careers for some time. But WAIT! It seems to me (partly) that these questions are a bit selfish and naive. Is this really my life? Isn’t it God’s, once I turned it over to him some 20 years ago? If that’s true, then what does it matter what or who I want to be? As for the 2nd question, I can’t really answer it. It’s so childish (those are the kind of questions that cause mid-life
crisises crises). My dreams have changed over the years–when I was 10, I wanted to be an art teacher and go to UCLA (just because I had a UCLA sweatshirt). Then in middle and high school, I wanted to be a research scientist. Then I majored in History and English, etc. I wanted to get married right out of college, I dreamed of having 7 kids.
The reality is, dreams aren’t. The adult and seasoned response to this 2nd question is that life doesn’t happen the way we plan. People change their mind or wreck things, situations happen (or don’t), and God intervenes.
But really, what I should be asking myself instead are: Am I who God wants me to be? Is my life what God wants it to be? Um, probably not. So my only choice is to consider, “then why am I thinking about what I want?”
Such is my struggle against flesh and selfish desires. These are instances when I find that I have put myself on that pedestal and am glorifying my own desires. Times like this I am grateful for mercy and grace, when I reflect on the cross and, like driftwood, return once again to where I should be—on my knees.