these small hours.

today, i realized life is nothing like what i thought it would be.

five years ago, when i graduated from high school, i thought i had it all figured out….everything fit neatly together, like a jigsaw puzzle. or so i thought.

and i went to college. and my life changed. and my eyes were opened. and my heart grew. i mourned for the people and places i had lost, and what i had left behind. i grieved for the things i wouldn’t have, and the person i wouldn’t be…but with the sadness came the realization that i could go anywhere, and be…me.

the grown-up amy i saw as that naive eighteen year old, the amy who settled down, and had kids, and lived in her small hometown, and taught…there was nothing wrong with that version of amy.  but really–it was never me.

so even as i grieve and i wonder why, and how i ended up here–at 23, with no career, and no real place to call home or be settled, terribly independent, with years left in school–i also have to remember that those dreams i had–they were someone else’s. they were never mine.

i knew what my dreams were when i first drove into a large trailer park in northeast columbia, filled with immigrants and heartbreak and pain and poverty and yet…hope. when flew into my very first large city. when i stood at the top floor of prudential tower and saw the entirety of boston before me. when i hugged little kids and painted faces and loved and cried and was overwhelmed in carroll park in west philadelphia. when i saw the statue of liberty in new york city. when i realized, through BCM, that i loved ministry.

so these are my dreams. and this is the path. and maybe along the way, some of those dreams i had when i was younger–and much more naive–will come. and if they do, i’ll be thankful. and if not, i’ll remember this was always God’s story, and never mine, in the end.

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