I’ve been experiencing a wide range of emotions lately and it’s left me in this awkward and frustrated state of being. My friends from my past, because very few of them still talk to me and we all seem to hold little interest for each other anymore, are all getting married, having babies, getting new jobs and moving forward with the world.
It’s hard to remember that there isn’t really a set timeline for success and the way your life is supposed to unfold when everyone else is progressing and here you are, moved back in with your parents, working a job that has almost nothing to do with your field of study, and you have no social life to speak of. Let alone the potential for a future family. I sit here and watch all of these societal norms pass me by, and I ask myself why they’re even the norm while I still feel my heart sink because there must be something wrong with me.
I keep trying to remind myself that Abraham and Sarah were REALLY OLD when they had Isaac. Noah wasn’t exactly a spring chicken when God asked him to build the arc either. Moses had a stutter, David wasn’t the largest or most handsome of his brothers… and he ended up being both an adulterer and a murderer. Ruth wasn’t even a Jew. Rahab was a prostitute. Jacob lied to get his brother’s inheritance. Peter, arguably the best friend of Jesus when he was on this earth had a temper and could be one of the least faithful of all of the disciples. Paul persecuted Christians before becoming one of the most prolific writers and teachers of the gospel in all of history… and Lazarus was DEAD.
God doesn’t care about timelines or resumes.
He doesn’t care that I’m not the artist I could be. He doesn’t care that I’m not the writer I should be. He doesn’t care that I’m not married or having kids right now; He doesn’t even care that I’m living with my parents.
That’s not to say that God doesn’t care about anything. I mean, He knows even the smallest of sparrows, its every fear and need.
He sees the big picture and from my smaller piece of the picture it’s kind of hard to remember that.
Part of me feels like I’m some kind of failure living with my parents at 23. That part also feels like I’m broken because I have no desire for marriage, kids, or even a partner. I mean, everyone else is doing it, why don’t I want to? It feels like everyone I know is moving on to bigger and better jobs and places and adventures while I’m sitting here still afraid of my own shadow some days. Wondering if I’ll ever be good enough and afraid of putting my pen or my pencil down on the blank paper because I don’t think I can do it justice, but knowing that I’ll never improve if I don’t do it, that I’ll never get that awesome job related to my field if I don’t apply.
It’s terrifying and frustrating all at once because while I’m happy for and proud of my people for doing these things and moving on with their lives, I feel stagnant and stuck, but I’m also terrified to leave what is relative safety. I don’t hate my job and there is no real motivation to leave for me other than that stagnation, like my life is meant for more.
All I can do is pray about it and weigh my options, but other than that, I’m helpless and that frustrates me to no end.