Compromise

I'm terrified to grow up. I know we all are. And I know that conventional wisdom says that I'll get over it. But I won't, because I'm a different kind of terrified, or so I'd like to believe.

Because really, what is there to look forward to about growing up? I will grow up into another middle class American who goes to a nice little church on Sundays, has a nice house in the suburbs, a nice little family, teaches at a nice suburban school, drives a nice car and has lots of nice little dreams about what life could've been. We'll sit around and reminisce about "the good ol' days" when everything seemed possible. And while we're laughing I'll take a moment to remember how much the world once had to offer, what it felt like when I believed I could change the world before the world beat that out of me and I'll realize I hate what I've become. Of course I'll love my family and (I imagine) still love teaching, but there will be that nagging feeling that this didn't turn out the way it was meant to- that life was meant to be something so much more. And that ultimately, I'd compromised.

Because what I really want is not this world. Like everyone else I'm torn and imperfect and conflicted- part of me does still like the idea of the "American dream." Part of me wants to grow up into that nice stable life. But I know that I'd never really be happy in it, in fact I'm sure I'd be miserable. I don't want what the world is offering. All I want is grace.

I am restless and naive and unrealistic and utterly ridiculous and crazy and I know that. Trust me, you don't have to tell me anymore, I already know. But that is exactly what I need to be.

It's a slippery slope though, and I'm scared. I'm scared of those days I wake up and say "you know, I just don't have the energy to do this today," and that those sort of days will pile up until I realize that I've given in to the world- I've "grown up" like everyone else. That I've walked away not just from my dreams, but from God's call.