If you would have asked me what I wanted to do with my life 5 years ago, I would have had the exact answer and the exact timeline of how I wanted everything. Five years ago I was 17 and I wanted to be a singer. Yes, I wanted to move to Tennessee, to study songwriting and become a country sensation. That’s it. That’s the life I had imagined for myself since I was 5 years old. It was all I ever allowed myself to be. It was all I ever thought I was good at. I knew I didn't want a regular job, with regular hours, and have to stay in one place forever. I wanted to write and sing music and travel the world.
Fast forward, entering community college, I still fought to keep the same dream aflame. At this time, there was still quite a bit of passion burning inside me to become a famous singer. It wasn’t so much that I longed for the famous part, but you can’t make enough money to support a family without being at least a little well known. So, I wrote, and sang and sang some more. I loved it. I loved the way I would feel upon the completion of a song. It was a sense of relief and gratitude. Relief, that I had exhaled and inhaled enough times to produce something of value, and gratitude because I was thankful for the journey of life that had given me such stories that put words to my music. I traveled to Tennessee for the third time with my parents, to tour the college of my dreams: Belmont University. In the heart of Nashville it promised possibility, opportunity, and inspiration. I would be living in the state of Country music legends. It was all a dream, one that was quickly shattered.
I would stay up most nights contemplating a future I thought I had already drawn out. I was feeling unfulfilled. I didn’t want to be a singer anymore. For the first time in my 19 years of living, I no longer saw the future as something I was sure of. It was blique and looked like a road with many different directions. So where was I to go? It seemed by bags were already packed. Now, it was time to unravel and let go of the dream my hands had clenched so tightly.
My mom had already been working at Biola for about 2 years. I started to look into it as an option. I didn’t know what my major would be. There were so many possibilities, and nothing was certain. I went in, claiming to be an education major, meaning I would become an English teacher. After my first semester at Biola (3rd year of college), I changed my major again. I had one semester of student teaching, and well, that wasn’t for me either. I loved the kids, but not the teaching part. So, I decided to become an English writing major. From there, I have been thrust into a whirlwind of challenges. There are days I feel inadequate. Days I feel like I can’t even cultivate a single sentence, and days I want to throw in the towel and give up again.
I’d say I’m in the process of becoming. It sounds cooler when I describe myself as a flower: I’m blooming. I’m peeling the pages of my story, rewriting parts, creating others, and discovering what’s already been written. There are layers to who I am that God created specifically for His purpose. I am created for God’s purpose. My life has purpose. I may not know the exact road to take that will lead me to financial success, but I am uncovering gifts and talents, and likes and dislikes. Through my discovery I feel closer to my Creator. All those little things he has placed in me, are actually pulling me closer to what I was designed to do. So, I hope you can follow along with me, as I discover more of who I am.
This post isn’t going to end with much closure, because I’m still becoming. I don’t have all the answers or charts filled out. I don’t have a 401k. I don’t know exactly what my job is going to be in the future, and I don’t know what I want to do when I graduate. But in all of the unfulfilled, I find truth. I know who I am and whose I am. I know God has a purpose for my life and I trust and walk and lean into him, as I uncover the direction I’m headed. So maybe you’re with me. In a society that walks around pretending to know exactly what they’re doing, you may feel out of place. You don’t have a home yet. You don’t have it all figured out. That’s okay. Because God created you to do wonderful things and you’re going to do them. So, I’m okay with not knowing. For the first time, I’m okay with just taking one step at a time because there’s someone walking with me: JESUS.
Here is an insert of a poem I wrote about my season:
Look at the stars, they only appear at
night. but when such creativity introduces
Itself, we can’t help but be caught in the web
Of its possibility and beauty.
In the same way, I beg you, to see what’s coming
To see beauty in a darkened sky, awaiting to be lit.
To foresee creativity and an explosion of possibility.
A future that’s unwritten, means a blank canvas,
awaiting its creator to unfold the goodness and watch
it sparkle. For when it lights up a sky, you’ll begin to
see what she was really created for. The sky needs
the stars, for it wouldn’t be complete without light.
The world needs her, for the light in her shall be seen.
So, as she unravels we wait. We anticipate her beauty
to be unveiled in its time. For we know her stars are
coming. Right now, she is becoming.