The Unexpected Years of my Mid Twenties

As young girl and young adult, I don’t think I thought too much about my future life. In a sense I did because I day dreamed all the time about being married, having three to four children, decorating together for the holidays, building traditions and life all together. I imagined that life would unfold simply. I would work for a few years after trade school, get married, work a little more, and then devote most of my time towards family. But I don’t think I really had much of a plan beyond my hopes and daydreams. At least not when compared to the type A, career track from preschool young adults that make up much of Houston.  I’m definitely not endowed with their tenacity and dedication towards dreams for their future and future employment.  I may look the part walking the streets of Houston in my business attire during the new employee orientation at the local health university. But deep down I’m still the girl who didn't want to go away to college at 18, who values hard work but was content to work so-called menial positions, who at the end of a long day just wants to go home and snuggle her nephew, chat with her sister, and curl up with a book and cup of Yogi tea. But if Houston has taught me anything, it has challenged me to work hard, do away with my entitlement, and be open to the myriads of ways you can serve your city and your neighbor vocationally as a young woman.  

As I've worked through issues of identity and womanhood and what is the best thing I can do with my life, I've been refreshed with a simpler mindset. One that seeks to fight against either/or mentalities. While my truest desire is still my girlhood daydream, I can only live in this moment. Wisely, I will add, but this life I have now is the only life I have. True, my future schooling plans may make it (very) difficult to date and get to know young men, and there are times when I start to worry that I will only have work attire, hour long commutes, and semi-monthly paychecks to show for the majority of my time. Or that all the eligible men in my social circles will be cutthroat, achieve at all costs, “I want a business woman for a wife”, type of guy.  But then I step back and remind myself this: Am I letting God lead my current life? Or am I holding out for a version of life that I may never receive? And also, I have to believe that God is big enough to (if He so decides) help me find a man, that even though he may live in Houston, is cut from a similar mold as I. That despite the competitive and fast pace nature of this city, he will drink deeply from a weekend out in the country, will rejoice over leading a children’s choir at church, would entertain notions of pygmy goats as pets, and will be content in a life that is summed up by justice, mercy, and walking humbly with our God.

And I also need to believe that it is OK if none of that happens.

This year has been oh-so-good. Curled up on the couch with Annie, my December 2013 predictions of a good year have proven true. In unexpected ways? For sure! But still good. A winter of riding the train to school and studying bones and muscles and nervous systems. A spring of goodbyes to my nanny life, and finishing it off with an epic trip to NYC and the Florida beaches. A summer of intense school and long hours studying at Panera. Tied in with everything was a growing closeness to my brothers and sisters at church and a deep camaraderie with my small group. The excitement of a potential relationship floating in the air enveloped the day to day aspects of my life. But in a moment when those hopes came crumbling to pieces and once again I’m crying on the couch wondering what’s wrong with me as my sister speaks tenderly over me, I realize yet again how none of us know the paths our lives will (or won't) take.

So as I find myself clocking out at the end of a forty hour work week, making decisions how to spend my evenings, planning a weekend trip to Dallas to visit my friend in residency, or filling out applications for school, I can’t help but think that this is the life I never thought I would have. Not that my life is anything out of the ordinary. Compared to most Houstonians, it is quite the opposite. But in comparison to my childhood notions of simplicity and predictability, it is quite different. But in the unexpectedness of my twenties, I been shown love and grace, I've experienced beautiful things and beautiful souls, I've known the simple joy of community and the power of honesty, I've known confusion and weakness, and I’m learning that it’s OK to cry when life hurts but that there is always a bounty of things to be thankful for. And that, after a year away from “home”, Christmas and my plane ticket to Washington cannot come soon enough.