In ninth grade I was dead set on majoring in musical theater and becoming a Broadway star. I loved acting and singing and had some talent. I took classes on the weekend and after school. I participated in every play I could find an audition for. I thought, this is my calling. This is what I’m meant to do with my life.
Then I met a boy.
I realized that living like a nomad meant I couldn’t settle down. Having to keep my body perfect for the stage ruled out kids. To top it all off, the new musicals being produced were getting raunchier and raunchier. So I let go of that dream. And I found myself floundering.
One week I decided I wanted to be a psychologist, and another week a lawyer. A month passed and I was certain I would be an ambassador. Then it was a professor, a rocket scientist, an architect, and so on. I held on to each choice like a life raft in a sea of uncertainty. Instead of waiting for God’s call I jumped from driftwood to driftwood, only to find each decision as unstable as the last.
Only when I gave up trying to grasp for things on my own did I see what had been there all along–writing. This was a talent that God had been building in me since kindergarten. It’s something that I had written off as a hobby until I took the time to be still and listen.
I know throughout high school and college, my friends struggled to figure out what to do with their lives. It’s a huge decision and a terrifying one to make at an age while we are still trying to figure out who we are.
I encourage you to take your time to listen for God’s call. It may come in a way you don’t expect.