Tip of My Iceberg

Each child in the class had the opportunity to choose three possible careers they’d consider pursuing.

Six-year-olds.

Sloane, who is always willing to speak her mind, chose, in order: veterinarian, doctor, horse rider.

The teacher didn’t want to double up on career choices, so she phoned my daughter and asked if Sloane would be alright with going with her third choice.

Sloane’s response: “There will never be a time when I don’t love horses.”

I understand the logic behind encouraging the dreams of the young, but how many six-year-olds know what they want to do with the rest of their lives? A horse rider can be filled with options–showing horses, training them, racing them, using them for therapy.

I wonder how serious Sloane will be for this in fifteen years?

I love her style. She dressed the part with class and was more than serious about her choice. Surrounded by classmates who chose doctor, veterinarian, and lawyer, with a few firemen, policemen, and baseball players thrown in, it reflected the spectrum of children’s dreams and aspirations.

When I was Sloane’s age I was committed to becoming a horse trainer. I’d never ridden a horse at that age, but I loved them. I drew them, collected them, and they were the substance of all my make-believe.

I’m more of a life coach now, working with missionaries who come home from the field. Not a four-legged critter among them.

Our desires and dreams change with age, experience, and wisdom. Covid made it challenging to dream much, but many are steadily returning to considering what might happen in the future.

It’s also true that we can overplan and over-anticipate what should happen. We each have an understanding of what we feel we need to make life work, but our expectations are often unrealistic; we don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

The apostle James wrote:

“Look here, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit.’ How do you know what your life will be tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog–it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.” James 4:13-14

It’s easy to forget our own humanity and finiteness. We don’t have control over what happens to us or what others will do to us or for us. We’re responsible for our responses to life; we can plan but we can’t be guaranteed it will happen.

God knows.

And in His knowing comes grace and compassion, for all our pain and suffering, for the hurts done to us and the ones we cause others. Nothing is hidden from Him.

Sloane may not know where she’ll be in twenty years, but God knows. Bad things will happen in this world because it’s so broken. But having confidence in God’s understanding and power gives me peace to know He’s better aware of how I can handle life than I am.

Even if I’m not sure of what I’ll still be doing when I grow up.