Decisions can be suffocating – much like graduation robes. In May 2006, I pondered this exact thought as I walked across a very long stage. College was over, and finally my life would fall into place.
I would attend graduate school and pursue a career in education. I would marry a good Christian man who was well on his way to becoming a doctor. We would have two children, and I would perfectly balance motherhood and my career.
Little did I know that in a few short years, I would lose it all – the teaching career, the doctor, and the guarantee of motherhood.
Ten years later, I still battle that same naïve woman, only now I have more wrinkles.
My big decisions, of course, now revolve around two little people. Last week, another trial presented itself. My son, who is currently in part-time preschool during the academic year, was offered enrollment into the well-respected (and highly coveted) learning center in town. Truth be told, we had been waiting for over two years for this development. Just in case the stars aligned, we didn’t want our son to miss out. After all, when other families line up, you learn to as well.
We were given just a few days to make our decision.
My husband and I have designed our lives to be present with our children to the fullest extent. It was never our desire to put our children into all-day care.
But, God, you don’t understand. This place is magical. It will meet all of our son’s needs. He will learn to read, write, and become an amazing soccer player. Okay, well, maybe two out of three. I know you inspired me to serve you through him, but I’m exhausted. It’s been a hard semester balancing teaching with a curious toddler and an independent infant. This would really resolve all of my stress.
Wait for it…
Okay, God, I’m not sure you heard me.
After much prayer and discussion, my husband and I relinquished our control and our son’s golden opportunity.
Of course, no decision is simple, and this one required incredible fortitude – more than I have ever personally had to produce. And, yet, we have faith that good things will happen.
If we aren’t careful, choices in life can paralyze us, and I think peace only comes when we let go of the white picket fence. Ten years and two degrees later, the plan now grows with me.
And, somewhere in the uncertainty, I found a way back to the classroom. I married a different doctor. And I became a mother.