A few weeks ago I had a conversation with my dad about my future–which after next July, is wide open. At one point, he laughed and made the following comment: “You know that song, ‘My future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades’? Well, your future must be clouded by smoke, it’s so uncertain.”
While part of me wanted to take offense to this (well-meant) poke at my lack of life direction, but I couldn’t help but agree because, well, it’s true. My future after my JV year is like a blank page. I don’t know what I’ll be doing (grad school, working, traveling, etc.), what field I’ll be in, or where I’ll be.
This past week I participated in Cura Personalis, the national conference for college CLC members/coordinators. The conference includes two days of silent retreat, during which participants meet with a spiritual director each day. I spent the first part of the silent retreat feeling like my head was stuffed full of cotton, like if I could somehow extract all of that cotton out of my head, there would finally be room for my thoughts to be clear.
After sensing my jumbled state of mind during our first meeting, the second day my spiritual director (an incredibly sweet, elderly nun) gave me a copy of this Thomas Merton prayer: “My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end…”
Well, to say that that’s the truth would be an understatement. But although I’m uncertain of exactly where this path of JVC is going to take me, I have to say that I’m excited for the ride. At this point, I honestly can go anywhere and do almost anything. That kind of freedom is a liberating, and it’s kind of exhilarating to not know where I’ll be: that means there’s still a world of possibilities open to me. And in my moments of uncertainty, I am still sure that the God of certainty is guiding me every step of the way.