Careers

For the past two years, I've considered, and taken at least one course in, at minimum FIVE degree programs. 

Is this unusual? 

Well, from the many conversations I've had and articles I've read—no. I know this from familial experience even. I have a cousin who went to three universities, studied four unrelated programs, incurring nearly $60,000 in UNNEEDED student loans, in her degree-quest. 

Seriously, how's an 18-year-old to know what to do for the rest of his/her life?

Let me take you on a fast-track through my thus-far career path:

When I first graduated high school, I was dead-set on design. I enjoyed it, it brought out my creative expression, it connected me with people who were similar to me (and all the eccentricities that come along with being a creative!) and with God, and I just plain liked it. I would find myself playing around at 2 o'clock in the morning, honing my skills. I did three internships in several design jobs, mostly at Ginghamsburg Church, my longtime house of worship. Under the mentorship of Rebekah Olsen, Brad Wise, Sarah Gillenwater and Kim Miller, my artistic talents exploded and I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be. I enrolled in Sinclair Community College—a public two-year college in the heart of Downtown Dayton with roughly 22,000 students—in 2006. I continued taking courses through 2007. 

Then came summer...

Summer break provides many things to a college kid. A break, a summer job and the chance to re-connect with all of his/her old high school buddies, be it running into each other at the local Starbucks, passing the afternoon at the pool or swallowing hot-dogs at the Fourth of July party that everyone's Dad seems to host. 

After talking to four of my then-closest friends, I became fascinated with what they were studying: one of my good friends was studying fashion at the prestigious Fashion Institute of Technology in Manhattan, one was at Miami University studying finance in the top-rated Farmer School of Business,  one was at Yale University studying psychology and one was at the Ohio State University studying pre-medicine. 

Here I was studying design at the local community college. I thought to myself: was this good enough? should I, who scored a 135 on an IQ test in the eighth grade, who got a 28 on my ACT and who graduated with a 3.75 in the top 10% of my class of 600+, really be doing something so, so, mundane?

No, I told myself. I got it in my head that I was destined to do something greater. I rationalized to myself that I was better than design, I was smarter, I deserved more and I needed more. So, for about a month I was set on fashion, for another month—psychology, for two months—medicine, and for a good six months—finance. I bounced around schools, Sinclair, Wright State, Miami, and even looked into schools such as FIT, CUNY and NYU. 

But, were they the right one? Were any of those careers something I could foresee myself doing for twenty, thirty, forty years? Were they careers that I would be so wrapped in that I would have to be asked to retire for fear that, at age 88, I was a bit too old to keep working? 

Honestly, no—and here's why. If I'm honest here, (which, after a good amount of time spent convincing myself has worked its course, I always am), I wanted fashion for its glitz, glam and fabulousness; I wanted psychology for the intellectual prowess and the power I would feel advising people how to live their lives; I wanted medicine for the mentions I'd receive about town and for the respect I'd command at the country club; finally I wanted finance for the ridiculous amounts of money it's notorious for providing. However, these are not the things that God calls us to seek. 

God calls us to seek Him in truth. If I'm 100%, unadulteratedly true with myself, I know that I'm called to be an artist. I'm not sure that a lifetime designing graphics on a computer is quite what He has me on the path toward, but, deep down, I think it's the most honest step that I can take today in landing that future goal. God has undoubtedly given me strengths that favor creativity—why am I so darn hard-headed that I can't accept my gifts and be thankful for them?

And to be entirely honest—let's really work this out, people, as Pastor Bowie would say, "tell the truth, shame the Devil!"—I would not have come to this level of honesty if it weren't for a totally random house call I made this past Sunday afternoon.

My good friends, long-time inspirations of creativity and spirituality, two people I'm proud to list as mentors in my life, Clark and Kim Miller, were in a very serious motorcycle accident two weeks ago. At the time I heard about the accident, I reeled in the thought of losing them, but I didn't connect anything from their events to my own life. But how quickly things can change!

As I was leaving church Sunday afternoon, it occurred to me that I hadn't been getting Kim's replies via email all week and that I should take it upon myself to step out and visit them, if but just for a few quick minutes. Although I felt bad for dropping in unannounced, I initially just wanted to find out when would be a good time to visit soon and if she had heard back on a possible job she had recommended me for, I ended up spending a good three hours with the Miller's. 

Spending over an hour dealing with a fickle blog can only hold back one's anger if one is the company of friends, and talking to Kim about what she has been up to lately while taking in the authenticity that is the Millers' life, I was smacked—(it felt literal, but I assure you Kim is not the violent type, although one time she did recommend a movie called "A History of Violence")—by the realization that all this pride that I had built up was hurting my spiritual self. 

I was putting aside what God had planned for me for what I wanted, namely: a penthouse in New York City, a house in Southampton and a Bentley at each. 

Are these things God-things? Does God truly call someone to live like that—I don't know. But, I do know one thing: He wasn't calling ME to live that life. 

As I drove home from their house, I began to feel the weight lift from all those pressures and stress I had been piling on myself recently: how am I going to make sure I am a multimillionaire before turning 30, as is the norm in the financial world? is it going to be easy to get a gig at a hedge-fund or investment bank without an Ivy League degree? should I go $250,000 in debt to get Ivy League degrees? and on and on. 

How at peace I feel, even at 6AM as I write this, to finally accept the plan God has  for me. 

I am thankful that it only took me a year (and a half-ish) to figure this out, and that I didn't waste many years, years that I can be furthering the purposes of His will, not mine—(although it's going to have to take a daily reminder for a while that I don't really need a Bentley). 

It is now that I jump back into the real world of faith, trusting God for my every decision. Living true faith. Amen?