Post-college life is difficult.
Not because there is, or should be, anything about your life or mine that is exceedingly difficult to be in charge of and deal with (kids, bills, debt, health issues), but because there is an expectation placed upon us from the moment we graduate until we begin to adult that we should want nothing less and should aspire to nothing less than to fit into a mold of what it means to grow up.
You work this job, you pay those bills, you live in this house, then that house, then maybe one more, before the kid comes–then the second. And maybe you move one more time, begin to wonder who you are, or ever were, where the time went, or where it’s going, and you blink–and it’s been 30 years before you even know what’s happened.
Being an adult is hard enough, but college–hell, high school–teaches us that every moment is leading toward that life, that when we graduate, we assimilate into what we should have been from the start, and simply just exist until we die–which is sad. Not that a comfortable life with kids and a wife and a house and a job is anything to be unhappy about, but there’s a difference between that life set atop a backdrop of dreams and pursuits, and the same life on top of just living.
I haven’t exactly hidden the fact that I’ve been frustrated before by my current position in life. I just turned 24, I still live at home, I don’t make enough to live on my own currently, and have, a number of times, had jobs I thought would turn into something, fall away silently.
Being an adult never accounts for that–at least not when we hear about it. Getting a job, doing those things you’re “supposed to do” just get done because all of the pieces fall into place, but it hasn’t so far–and there isn’t a sign that it ever will. Now, I’m smart enough to know that that’s not true, but the plan I’ve been pursuing, the idea I’ve been operating under hasn’t worked out the way I imagined it would, nearly two years after having graduated college. I’ve been working in this coffee shop, drawing more, writing more, conversing with people, building relationships, but I always “imagined” I’d be somewhere else.
And maybe that’s where I’ve been wrong.
Knowing where God has wanted me next has been hard since leaving college. It isn’t as easy as it used to be, not because of me or my relationship with Him, but because when I’m faced with choices now, and am no longer in college biding my time, it’s hard to be sure the choice I’m making is right. But it’s occurred to me over the past few months that God’s plans for me may have shifted, there where I’ve been has always been laid out, I just wasn’t aware of it, and the place I’ve been has been preparing me for something more.
I’ve met a lot of people, built relationships, developed skills–all of which I never would have thought I’d have done during my life, and for so long I’ve wished for a way away from that–a way to move on to something new that will pave the way to a future, to a career I imagined I always should have had in the first place.
But I’m in a place now where I’ve realized that those opportunities I’ve been waiting for, the one’s I’ve felt I’ve been preparing myself for, may not be for me, at least for right now. Perhaps no opportunity that exists currently is meant for me.
Maybe I need to create one myself.
God’s plans for our lives are something else. They don’t always make sense, they shift and change, but at the end of the day, they’re right. They’re correct. They are the optimal path for our lives at the time–we just have to trust God. And if we do, the result, the everything that could come out of it, dwarfs whatever we could imagine.
I’m learning to be excited about that, to be content where I am, and to be joyful in the everyday moments. Where I am is for a reason and where I end up may be a mystery–but that doesn’t mean it won’t be amazing.