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When I grow up, I want to…

How did you fill in that blank as a six year old? a twelve year old? an eighteen year old? a thirty year old?

It’s amazing how our dreams change, isn’t it? My kids found an “All About Me” book at my parents’ house that I had filled in when I was about six years old. I wanted to be a mom and an artist (like my Aunt Lokken). My favorite food was fried pork chops, but I didn’t want to eat lima beans or lasagna.

Mom – check. Artist? Sort of, in a way, I suppose – but more with a pen than a paintbrush. Fried pork chops? Disgusting. Lima beans? I don’t think I’ve touched them in at least 20 years. Lasagna? Bring it on, baby. The cheesier, the better.

My BFF, Gretchen (who sat on the Corner of My Couch for three years and got me through the last of Michael’s training, and who now sits -1223 miles away- on the phone with me for hours at a time getting me through everything else), wrote this today, and I love it. I think she shares a struggle that so many of us share: a struggle for identity, for purpose, for direction.

I’m reminded of the Gospel account of Peter. When Jesus told him to get out of his boat and follow Him, Peter was named Simon, but Jesus immediately changed his name to Peter (which means rock). This is the same Peter who was wildly impulsive and gruff and later denied he even knew Jesus – but the same Peter who would build the post-resurrection Church. As Max Lucado notes, Jesus could see in Peter what he was not yet.

The same goes for us. We are not yet who we will be. There is much for us to do, to experience, to become. Our stories are still being written. And the Author? He’s a funny one. He does all kinds of crazy stuff with tenderhearted, confused, desperate women.

Just like you.


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