Here I am again.

I don't know what I want to do with my life.

This has been a persistent, nagging insecurity that has chewed on me since I was four years old. I am usually successful in pushing it to the back of my mind, but every now and then during a fleeting, vacant moment, it consumes my conscious thoughts. It's been enveloping my mind quite a bit recently.

I remember sitting in preschool one day when we were going around the circle telling everyone what we want to be when we grow up. Of course, at that age, the majority of the responses were things like "cowboy," "police officer," and "doctor." When it was my turn to answer, I vividly remember saying, "I don't know."

Here I am, almost 15 years later, and I still don't know.

Sure, there have been times where a certain profession has seemed like an attractive option, and when people would ask me what I wanted to do with my life, I usually just said the one that was on my mind. In 5th grade (best grade, ever!), I thought teaching would be fun; in middle school I thought I would make a good lawyer or a fine psychologist; in high school, I thought I'd made a pretty good foreign service officer or international spy; and most recently, urban planning.

I know my strengths. I know my weaknesses. I know what I don't enjoy learning about and doing. I know what I do enjoy learning about and doing: geography, culture, psychology, sociology, history, foreign language, music -- the social sciences and humanities in a nutshell. I know I want to help people. I know I want to use my God-given talents and abilities to further His kingdom. Regardless of what my interests, strengths, and aspirations may be, I still can't find any clear-cut pathway to a suitable career. It's as though I can only see two feet in front of me because everything past that is obscured by fog. It's tough being patient and waiting for whatever comes my way. Perhaps I should learn to simply be okay with not knowing.

I've recently made a resolution to be more decisive. Although I have been successful in other things that have, in the past, stricken me with indecision, I just can't seem to defeat this particular uncertainty.

I know God has a plan for my life; He's carried me through so much already. I believe that statement even more than I believe in the floor that I'm sitting on. I'm not worried, and I'm not trying to sit here and complain away my problems (I used to try that, and it never worked.) I'm just plagued by indeterminacy. Who knows, maybe this is just unproductive, emotional garbage, but sometimes things make more sense in my mind when I write (in this case, type) them down.

Yep.
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I'm really ready to go to bed, by my roommate and his girlfriend are in here playing video games, and I feel kind of weird going to sleep in front of them. Oh well.

*YAAAWWN.*

G'night.