I was a pretty perfect kid. Just ask my parents, and they’ll tell you. I was an easy baby, a mature child, and a decidedly unrebellious teenager. The possibility of getting in trouble was the only deterrent needed to keep me in line. In fact, I was more of a “good kid” than I think my parents even required.
I liked it that way. I liked being the girl that all the adults fawned over for my superior maturity and behavior, my intellect, and my good decisions. Other kids might not have found me all that cool at times, but whatever. I was on the pathway to sure success.
I had finished college, gotten married, moved into a new house, earned a Master’s degree, and landed a big girl job. Society’s orderly timeline had been followed to the tee. I entered full-fledged adulthood with my golden child status soundly in place. And I was flat out miserable.
You know when an idea starts to develop and you get that flicker of a thought, like a match that doesn’t quite light? And you know when that thought is so out-of-bounds crazy that you can’t believe your mind had the audacity to produce it? That’s happened to you, right? This idea popped into my head one day–quit my job, it said. And it started there, with that audacious idea.
This isn’t the post to hash out all the details of the journey, but I must tell you that God has done some fun, hard, glorious work in my life since that day. He has wrenched the grasp of my heart off of my golden girl status. It’s not that I don’t want to do good things or play by the rules or be respectful. It’s not about any of that.
He showed me how prideful I was, how deeply I treasured others’ positive opinions of me, and how I had come to depend on my sense of achievement to fulfill my sense of self.
So I gave it up. I gave up the glowing golden crown I had been wearing since babyhood. I gave up the safe plan and all the “shoulds” that come along with it. In return, God shepherded me through an explosive growth in my faith, a newfound understanding of His grace, and a contentment in just knowing that I am His and He is mine.
His plan is turning out to be way more interesting than mine was, anyway.