What Did You Want to Be When You Grew Up?

At a birthday party for a child of the ‘60s who was turning 60, the question came up, “What did you think your life was going to be like at this age?”

One person out of nine said his life was exactly what he thought it would be when he was in his twenties (Really?). For the rest of us it was not even close—not even sort of close.

Successful professional women thought they’d be Mrs. Walton, at home with multiple children. Men, who drew a bead on one career early on, find themselves in circumstances that they could never have imagined. Some felt disappointed; others were shocked at the unanticipated good things that have happened.

On the one hand, our conversation at the birthday dinner made me think of the words of St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582). The story goes that the nun was headed off to do some wonderful work of devotion and service when the cart she was riding tipped over and flung her into a stream. Wet, bruised, cold, and spluttering, Teresa shook her fist at Heaven and exclaimed, “God, if this is how you treat your friends, it’s small wonder you have so few of them.”

On the other hand, it’s clear throughout history and in my own experience that God does indeed work “in mysterious ways his wonders to perform.” Life is either one surprise after another given by the good hand of Providence or it’s somewhere between a comedy of errors and a tragedy of errors depending on how you feel about the ending. I’ll go with the providential surprises.

That doesn’t mean that life won’t disappoint and even depress. It has, it does, and it will. It does mean, however, that we can and should look for meaning, purpose, and direction beyond the bruises and disappointments, no matter how severe.

As another nun, Juliana of Norwich (1342-1416), famously said in the light of God’s providence, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” It’s this trust, not having life exactly as I designed it, that is the route to peace with God, ourselves, our spouses, our children, and our lives.