Childhood Dreamin'.... After all. I'm only 23.

Novelist. Journalist. Middle school teacher. Farmer. Lawyer. Oncologist.  Medical researcher. Chef.  Business owner. Street performer. Writer. Psychologist. Social worker. Public relations specialist.  Non-profit worker. Librarian. Actress. Orphanage manager. Mother. International missionary. Professor.

What do all of these things?  This random list of things, professions, occupations?  They are all things that at some point in my life, I considered pursuing.  Or at least all things that at some point my life I wanted to be.  How did I end up where I am?  How did I pick teacher?  Well it wasn't for the glamor.  And certainly not for the money. The decision making process was not instantaneous, it involved a lot of questioning, thought, discernment and prayer.  As I thought about it more, it wasn't that I couldn't see myself as a novelist or a business owner or a missionary. (Though I definitely could not see myself as a medical researcher or oncologist). It wasn't that the thought of working for a non-profit suddenly bored me.  It was that as I looked into the future I couldn't imagine myself not teaching.

There are certainly days when I wonder why.  Wonder how I ended up here.  Teaching Religion in a Catholic school in South Dakota.  I wonder how I, who wanted to teach MS or HS English, began teaching Church History.  A subject in which I have limited knowledge and even less interest.  There are also times I wonder what on God's green earth I would be doing, were I not here.  Were I not, of all places and things, teaching Church History in a small Catholic school in South Dakota.

Would I spend my days substitute teaching?  Waiting tables like many a young English major?  Would I be in Palmer?  Worcester? Boston?  Mexico?  I don't know.  None of us know.  Robert Frost reminds us that, taking the road less traveled by can make all the difference in life.  But if I had chosen a more traveled on road, things would still be different.  Either way I would be forging my path for the first time.  Either way I would have good days and bad.  Either way I would be missing my friends and my old life, in a way I didn't know possible.  Either way there would be questions.

And yes, there are questions.  There are doubts.  There are days when teaching is the last thing I want to do.  But there are also days when I laugh and smile.  Days when I love when I am doing.  Most importantly, there are lots of days.  Many more days.  And even if I decide come next May and graduation that I never want to teach again, there are many more days and many more options.  I can still become a novelist, a journalist, a writer, a lawyer, a chef, a farmer, a mother, an actress or a librarian.  After all.  I'm only 23.