Meant-to-be's and wannabes

Excerpt from a discussion board post, and something I've been contemplating lately:

[I have been] unready to commit my life in any direction because it feels so deliciously dangerous to have tons of options. I struggled with choosing a major, accepting the career that followed from it, taking a job offer, and even deciding where to live while working that job, because - what if something better comes along? what if I get wanderlust and this loses its appeal? what if in the end I find this wasn't everything I thought it would be? what if I can't cope with losing the safe punctuation of "every four years"?


What I am starting to find that my issue is not [needing to be understood or to get what I want out of life]. My issue is more needing to accept that life isn't what I think it ought to be. You know? Growing up enough to be willing to fall in love with God's will not looking perfect; with God's plans not feeling breathtaking; with God's mercy being a little rough around the edges; with God's justice leaving me like a prodigal's older brother feeling betrayed. And I have this growing suspicion that as I trade in more of the self that I have invested in my TCK-ness, in my womanhood, in my professional and academic abilities, in my language, and even my cognitive and emotional processes, I may one day discover that what God has for me was completely "incompatible" with who I am at this moment. But more than that, I think I will discover that the person I thought God meant me to be was an imposter sitting on the fence of the Kingdom claiming it was a seat at the banquet.