When I’m being honest with myself, I realize that I merely have undeveloped ideas of where I’m going after college. I’ve considered career paths and professions that fascinate me—that I find admirable. I know what lifestyles and crafts and vocations I think to be worthwhile and meaningful. But what am I going to do? I don’t know. And not knowing is often a panicky reality.
I’ve considered teaching, full-time writing, marketing, ministry, journalism, and everything in-between. What I find most puzzling is that I can see myself almost equally enjoying and being “meant” for each one of those careers—not one stands out, not one seems wrong. It’s hard to not compare myself to the students around me who are writing applications for graduate schools and meeting local principles and establishing professional relationships… and—dare I say it—getting engaged to be married.
“Yes, hi—thoroughly uncertain liberal arts student, party of one.”
But I’ve been learning something: much more wisdom is produced by asking the right questions than expecting certain answers. I expect the certain answer to what I’m doing with my life or what my next (or first, I should say) career step will be, but I ought to be asking uninhibited questions… like, “How can I extract every bit of knowledge and meaning from the place I’m in right now?” I’m beginning to believe that momentary presence leads you steadily to the future—much more than demanding future knowledge ever will.
If I fervently embraced the activities currently in front of me, and devoted myself to learning from them as if they offered unique truth I’m afraid to miss…if I understood every human being I came across to be an opportunity to love, be challenged, be humbled…if I really believed that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge (Proverbs 1:7)…I undoubtedly believe my life would turn out better than I could demand.