The Steadfast Heart

Ten years ago, I walked across the graduation stage with a business degree and a plan for my life. Since then, I’ve moved my tassel from right to left once more. I’ve changed my home address five times, I’ve had two children, and I’ve held the same job for nine years. I didn’t see any of that coming.

I thought I’d own a business in Tennessee with three kids. I’m a day’s drive from Rocky Top and when I’m sitting behind my small closet door hiding from the two very strong-willed tiny humans I birthed, I have to remind myself repetively that I am not actually a prisoner of war. I chose this.

The closest thing to a business I own is practically begging co-workers to let me use my 4-year-old coaching certification on them. I also thought I’d last six months at the job I applied for in 2016 before finding a “real one.” But I’m still here.

I thought marriage would feel mostly like my favorite books and parenting would bring out the best in me. I didn’t picture relating to Monica Geller this much.

At twenty-two, I thought the effects of aging would start in my fifties. But stress and pressure came knocking on my door at twenty-five. Guess you can’t have wisdom without looking like you’ve earned it.

A decade ago, I imagined financial freedom looking a lot freer. I hadn’t factored economics into my financial portfolio. Ballooning interest rates and property taxes hadn’t put me in the fetal position just yet. But I sure am limber at paying the government now.

As a college kid, I thought my future house would look like a Pinterest board. Joke’s on me, my walls are actually Hot Wheels tracks and my kitchen floors look like we’ve started our own ant farm for funsies.

And I guess I thought I’d feel more confident in my decision-making, need my parents less, and that I wouldn’t second-guess what I’ve made of my life so far, this often. The more I experience and the more I read, the less I feel like I’ve got a grip on adulting.

The question that’s always lingering in the back of my mind is, “Am I doing this right?”

Am I messing up my kids? Do I have enough money saved? Was I helpful enough at work? Should we eat out tonight, or will that put us over budget? Have I prayed about that enough? Does this outfit make me look too young? Am I wasting my time? Am I squandering my gifts? Am I too scared to try? Did I say the right thing? Did I make the right decision?

I’ve just got so many questions, still. I’m my strongest critic, still. I idealize what I want life to feel like more than I should, still.

Am I doing this right?

When I was entering data into a spreadsheet for work a few months ago, I cruelly saw that I am now one of the oldest employees on payroll. I’m just starting to get a grip on working with Gen Z while the Alpha generation is beginning to enter the workforce. As a Millennial, I felt like a tech czar helping out Gen X and my parents’ generation with technology and the newest vernacular. Now I’m the one out of touch on all fronts.

It’s been humbling to need the help of twenty-one-year-olds. Especially when it feels like I should still be one. But the truth is, they’re gifted and faster at more things than I am. They catch on quicker. So I find myself asking the question again, “Am I doing this right?”

I kind of hate the internet sometimes, because it seems so sure of itself. All of its unsolicited opinions and advice and AI. It’s the most one-sided relationship I’ve ever been in. Google and Zuckerberg have contributed zero percent to assuring me in my question. And yet, I often give them the most control of my time.

This morning, I was reading in 2 Chronicles 9 about how the queen of Sheba visited King Solomon. She had a lot of questions.

And Solomon answered them all. In verse 12, it says, “And King Solomon gave to the queen of Sheba all that she desired, whatever she asked besides what she had brought to the king. So she turned and went back to her own land with her servants.”

She knew where to go with her questions. And the king was faithful to supply her for her journey.

Even the queen shared my question. It says that when she had seen the wisdom of Solomon and all of his kingdom, there was no more breath in her. What the king beheld was more than what she could have imagined, so she came to see it with her own eyes. And it didn’t disappoint.

Too often, I don’t turn to the King with all my questions. I try to be self-sufficient by looking for answers within the places I can still control. I think sometimes I’m afraid that there’s actually no “right” answer. Or that the life I’m living is actually not a waste of my gifts. Sometimes realizing you have what it takes is the scariest thing of all.

The hard days of parenting are not my ultimate failure; they’re actually His sustaining power. Being an age outlier at work doesn’t mean job instability; it means looking to Jesus for what more I can give in this next chapter. My bank account is not reflective of my value; it is evidence of God’s provision thus far. He’s faithful to supply us with enough for our journey.

My dad has always known about my question. In all my doubting, he’s never failed to tell me I’m doing better than I think. He’s made Hunter and me feel like millionaires the way he has praised us for our faithfulness to God with our finances when it hasn’t been easy. He’s quick to remind me of my gifts and how far I’ve come. He’s also never seemed to be exhausted by how often I ask him if I’m doing this right.

And in that sense, he’s Jesus to me. Dad reminds me that what the King has in store to teach me is more than I can imagine. I only have to ask. By faith, I can trust that He will open my eyes to what He wants me to know in His timing.

The Lord will never disappoint me in my questioning. I’m so glad my dad taught me who to ask.

Take care & take heart,