Senior Year...Not Exactly like High School Musical

So, tomorrow is my very last first day of school!

Bittersweet.

Sweet: I'm not exactly in love with class.

Bitter: I have no clue what lies next.

Ok, not exactly bitter. The past few years I've kind of been proud of myself for not trying to plan the next phase of my life before God had shown me the way. However, now I feel like I should have at least some idea of where this road is going.

I really kind of picked an English major because a) I didn't know what else to do, b) I'd already tried several options, c) I had to find something that I could stand just long enough to have a diploma in hand. I like it fine, but it's not like I want to read & write for the rest of my life. Ok, so maybe I do...but I don't want to be made to.

Other options...photography. Love it. I don't feel like I know much about it though. Anything I can do is just what I was born with. Not a lot of knowledge. I've thought about taking some classes next year. Still...that's something I enjoy doing, but in the words of my hero, Justin Matisse, "You take something you love...twist it, turn it, try to find a way to make money at it...in the end you can't even remember what you started out loving." I don't want that.

Lately I've been wondering...I've felt a calling to missions since middle school. First I thought I'd live in some faraway place & lead some daring & adventurous life. Then I realized that a call to missions is a daily thing. We're all called to be missionaries in life...whether that's in the remotest village in Africa, or behind a desk at a 9 to 5 job in the U.S. I thought maybe I'm "just" supposed to be a missionary here. Just been pondering that lately...maybe what I'm really called to is a mix of the two?