the scriptorium

Monday, November 18, 2002

It's official: I am, as of 5:20 AM, 42 years old. I'm not sure how 42 is supposed to look or feel, but I'm pretty sure this isn't it. I keep remembering that when my mom was 42, I was 21 or thereabouts. I definitely don't feel old enough to have a 21 year old child--most of the time I feel like a 21 year old (mentally, anyway--the body is starting to betray me). I still am not quite sure what I want to be when I grow up. My best friend Lisa (who, BTW, is 11 months older than me no matter what she says), is starting to look forward to retiring from her career (she's worked for the same organization ever since we graduated college), and I'm still trying to decide what sort of career I want. How crazy is that? Has this life of mine just been a waste? These are the sort of questions you ask yourself when you get to be this age, I guess, and I can totally depress myself without really trying when I get into that mindset. Most of the time, I just trust God that He's putting me to use somehow, someway, and not think about it too much. I do think sometimes about the retirement thing and how I'm not getting any younger, but I still haven't found anything in the Bible about any of the apostles retiring. I'm not convinced it's a Biblical principle. Then again (no offense to anyone who's doing this), I also don't want to end up a greeter at Wal-Mart. I think what I want is for God to reveal the next 30 years of my life to me and tell me it's going to be "grand, marvelous", as they say in Ireland. As Harvey Firestein (sp?) would say, "Is that so wrong?"

posted by #Debi at 6:40 PM | permalink | 0 comments