When I Grow Up . . .

I never thought I would be a full-time working teacher and mom.  As a very social child, it meant so much to me that my parents made the sacrifices necessary to let my mother stay at home with us for most of my growing-up years.  Then, I was (nearly simultaneously) blessed with a husband and a tiny life inside me, and we had to figure out both how to pay bills and be good parents.  My little boy now spends his days with Grandma and I teach during the day.  He's happy with Grandma exploring his little world; I'm at peace (though I miss him) and loving this time of year when I see my students make a maturity leap to prepare for the next grade level; and we all look forward to a day when we won't be quite so spread around.

Why do I write all of this?  Because if any of you are idealists, like me, I want to let you know that it's ok if your crystal dreams shatter.  They were only fragile because they were your dreams.   That is not to say that we should give up our ideals, just that we should give up our feeling of entitlement to some shimmery concept of an ideal life that doesn't contain tears or obstacles.

Today I discussed "priorities" with my students.  We talked about what happens when we think something is a priority (something valuable to us and worth dedicating time and effort towards because it adds to the goodness/happiness/peace of our lives) and discover that we can't achieve that which we desire.  I proposed that sometimes our goal is too narrow.  My desire is to spend nearly all my time with my family, but my husband must work (I can't try and prevent that!), and currently, I too must spend a few hours a day away from home.  My priority then must be to do what is best for my family and to invest deeply into those relationships in the time I have available to me.  That goal (like nearly any goal worth living and fighting for) is not achieved apart from some sacrifice.  Right now, that sacrifice is lending James to his loving Grandma to play with.  Later, it will be something else.  Like Matthew Kelly is fond of saying, one cannot say no to something that seems good without something deeper to say "yes" to.  It is because of a deeper "yes" that I can amend my goals and dreams and fix my gaze on the daily task at hand.

Holiness is a very "gritty" thing.  Living the authentically good life is not about merely thinking esoteric thoughts and writing down lofty goals.  It's about making real life decisions, not always knowing what you're getting into.  It's about blocking out the contentious voices of persuasion and discerning God's will in the gray areas.  It's about taking responsibility for your actions and having the humility to see when you've been wrong and when you've been right.  It's about realizing what's possible, and attempting what would be impossible but for the grace of God.

We come to a true crossroad in life only a few times, but we have many split paths to choose from.  Like Frost's "road less traveled," those small decisions to can make "all the difference."  I used to have this funny idea that I knew what my story would look like.  I would say that I wanted adventure, but what I really wanted was security and ease, plus a few pre-approved, unusual escapades.  However, God's map for my life has held more treasures in unexpected places than I ever would have found if I stuck to my rigid ideas of what I expected. 

I have discovered that freedom is not living the way you want, after all; it is the ability to detach from falsity and chimeras and to cast yourself with enthusiasm and faith into the hands of your Creator and thrive peacefully wherever He sees fit place you.

May you and I live in the present moment "gracefully," at peace in God's will.