I remember that morning very clearly,
the day of my masters graduation. I went for a jog in the crisp clear
air, and as my feet hit the pavement of my oh, so familiar route, I
thought, “The world is my oyster. I can do anything.” I felt a
sense of freedom that day, a sense of exhilaration, a sense of
anticipation. Little did I know that my decision to pursue counseling
licensure in Arizona would require nine months of back and forth
correspondence with the state counseling board, or that finding a job and community in Arizona would
be so hard or so time-consuming.
But here I am, two and a half years
later, living in Arizona, working as a counselor. As 2019 has begun, I see many open days before me. I know that I can fill the
pages of this book of my year as I choose, but I also realize that my
time and energy are limited. I can do anything, but I can't do
everything.
I enjoy fitness, but it isn't my life.
Besides physical therapy, I basically have 30 minutes a day to commit
to exercise. That means I can choose weights or cardio, but not both.
I have to choose what is more important. I just don't have time or
energy to throw around the weights and hit the streets for my
preferred three mile plus runs.
I've finally gotten to the point where
I'm getting more invitations to do social things, but I just don't
have time for all of them. Sometimes, I need to stretch and expand my
horizons by hanging out with new people and doing new things. Other
times, I need to say, “No,” in order to focus on investing more
deeply in the relationships that are most important to me.
Work presents dozens of opportunities
for training and learning, and frankly, just more hours, but I need
to decide what I'm called to do and what I'm not. Work is a big part
of my world, but not my entire world. I don't want it to become
all-consuming.
I have numerous hobbies and activities
I'd like to do in my spare time, but there just isn't always time for
everything. I need to rest, too.
So the world is my oyster, but it's also not. Many opportunities lie before me, but I have the
responsibility to choose which ones to crack into, and which ones
not. I have to choose where to mine for beauty, and what mines to let
others tend to. Life is beautiful, but I miss the fullness of that
beauty if I never stop to appreciate
it.
May God give me wisdom as I anticipate
the days ahead and traverse with him the sands, waves, and seashores
of this life.
