Sarah D. Shearer

Sometimes, I imagine that I moved to Honduras. For seven years I have loved the small yet rich and beautiful country. I have looked forward with great anticipation to visiting each year, to inhaling the diesel fumes as our rickety school bus spirited through the crowded city streets.

I imagine that I moved there to be a teacher at a small village school. Each morning I would walk to the school with a throng of little girls in tow. I would teach them English and history and I would help them get a good start in life, something their parents would want for them. At the end of each day I would walk back to my tiny apartment, my skirt hem tugging at intermittent mud puddles. I would learn to cook over and open fire and I would learn how to be a master scorpion and tarantula killer. For so many years, this is was my life aspiration and what I believed God was guiding me toward. And then, it didn’t happen.

Sometimes, I imagine that I moved to Seattle. I made use of my degree and my skills by working at a big corporation. My days would begin with the sound of rushing traffic and my closet would be full of high heels and fancy dresses. My apartment would overlook the city and my car would be the city bus.  And then, it didn’t happen.

Sometimes, I imagine that I didn’t even move away, but that I got a ritzy job in Thomasville where I went to meetings and organized events and rented a cottage on Broad. And that hasn’t even happened.

Instead, I work for my mom, and now we work from home. I don’t wear high heels or any shoes for that matter, and I’m often asked if I’m going to work for my mom forever, as if it is a life sentence. It’s funny though, because even though all these dreams sound appealing, more than anything, I have always wanted to be a wife and mother. Building a career has never been the goal, so as I ponder the coming seasons in my life, why do I feel a sense of impending loss? What about all those things I thought about doing, but never did? Now they seem unattainable.

In achieving what I always desired, as a woman especially,  I am coming to terms with the fact that there are dreams I am having to lay down in order to pick up other dreams.

Here’s the most important thing, though. We don’t know the future. I don’t know the adventures I will have or the places I will go.

But sometimes, for a few minutes, I think it’s okay to ponder the life you didn’t have. But only for a moment. And then you thank God for what you do have and you take responsibility for the choices you have made which led you here, and you realize that the story isn’t over and maybe one day down the road you will be able to pick that dream back up.

Keep dreaming, my friends.