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| Liz and I at the beginning of spring term |
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| Sara and Allison at the beginning of spring term |
| Sara and I :) |
What up? Yeah, I got a good life.
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| Liz and I at the beginning of spring term |
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| Sara and Allison at the beginning of spring term |
| Sara and I :) |
"When I grow older, I promise to never have a job in accounting.
(No offense accountakids, I think ya’ll make great dads. Not because of the hours or the nature of your work, but because every time I meet a dad who is also an accountant, he is honorable, kinda goofy, and gentle.)
Regardless, I promise to never join you in the field of numbers and money.
Gross.
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I am disenchanted with my own predictions—a loss of faith in all things once hopefully deemed “Obvious. Natural. Coming Soon.”
I am by no means obliterated, only silent for a while—telling myself to relinquish control. And then, relinquish the idea that I have any knowledge of what is to come.
“But I am not that girl!” I say to myself.
“I am not the girl with the 5 year plan who refuses to deviate. I’ve always been okay not knowing the answers.”
“Oh please. You’re NOT the girl with the 5 year plan and the permanent mascara, but you ARE the girl who is thrown by all these twisting outcomes at once. It’s okay that you’re that girl, but you have to change your perspective now: You make choices. God makes outcomes.”
He is the only relationship I can predict as Obvious. Natural. Coming Soon.
As my stories with these people take exits I could not see from the driver’s seat—I realize that I am not wholly driving this thing—that the map I’ve got across the dashboard is drawn by my own narrow predictions.
“That’s a nice map you’ve worked on,” God says to me.
“But in the past I’ve always navigated by my own omniscient vision, and I think we should stick with that.”
I tell him it’s okay, and slip out of his seat. I think I was cramping him a little bit.
See how he talks to me like he’s just my Dad?
The truth is: I am thankful, even desperate to believe in something beyond my human limitations—even if I have no idea where He’s going with all of this.
“Fine. But do I have to be an accountant?” I ask.
I think he said no, but he probably just laughed."