Choices

I remember when my Systematic Theology professor told me that I probably wouldn't be able to be a mom, a pastor, and get my doctorate to become a professor. He was grooming me for doctoral work, but hit me with the hard reality that I can't do it all. Choices had to be made.

I was mad.

These were the days before I realized that raising children was an all consuming kind of affair let alone tending a congregation. I lived with the myth that I could do it all and keep my sanity.

I'm going to blame it on Gonzo. I loved him and he managed to get blown out of cannons and talk to chickens. That's my model for doing it all and staying sane.

Somewhere along the line I bought into the idea that if I just thought creatively enough and worked hard enough, then I could keep all my options open and do everything I ever wanted to do.

As Hannah heads into high school, she has to start making choices. Some of them are stark choices. You can't swim and play volleyball. You can't be in orchestra and jazz band. Some of them are questions of priorities. Friends, family, rest, reading, studying, church, practicing, working all have to be lined up in some order.

It's easiest to just take the path of least resistance. If it's hard or takes too much time, then bail. If your mom wants you to do it, then bail. (If you note stewing frustration in that last statement, then you have a teenager).

The hard thing is these choices can haunt you for the rest of your life. We are getting into the big ones that decide your future and it is a bit daunting. I've told Hannah several times that one of the great regrets I hear from older people is giving up piano. It doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but it really is one of those things folks talk about.

How do you make choices without regrets? I don't regret any of my big choices, but I do remember grieving them. I remember when I became a pastor, I cried because it meant I wouldn't be anything else. When I got married, I cried because it meant I couldn't be with anyone else. They are fabulous choices and my life is lovely, but there is grief involved in making decisions.

We can try to ignore that grief, but I try to name it and claim it so it doesn't come back to bite me as regret. This is the choice I make forsaking all others. Those are hard and freeing words. They let me live completely into this reality without pining for another.

Life and our choices might not turn out like we imagined. In my case that's a good thing or else I would be a garbage man dressed like Paul Bunyan and married to Pete Rose. Well, one of those things is part of my current reality. I always loved Paul Bunyan and I would make Julie Schmitt pretend she was Babe the Blue Ox.

I'm not sure the best way to make choices, except to make them as faithfully and clearly as we can without holding to the illusion that we can do and be it all. I still love Gonzo though and he does manage to have the best of all the worlds.