What Am I Doing With My Life?
Sophomore year of college is weird and it's barely started. I moved in yesterday but I'm already like:
But honestly— when am I not Rachel? I wish I were a Monica, but I'm a Rachel.
I'm at a point in my college career and career-career where I'm on the precipice of change. I'm declaring a minor, which'll divide my time and shift the focus of my studies away from communications, and soon I'll be phasing out of being an editor for College Magazine and taking on a new position as a social media manager for the Stamp Student Union Food Court. My plate is stacked. A social life is completely out of the question (not that it was there in the first place, let's be real).
To top all of it off, the whole time I've been wondering if I'm doing the right thing.
I recently did an 11-day devotional (15 is my limit, I just lose all my attention) called Hearing the Voice of God by Rick Warren.* Where not only did I learn a lot about patience, quietness, and internal reflection, but now I've learned about God's perfect timing, cause it coincided perfectly with these new life decisions I've been considering.
It sucks when you're doing new things but there's a nagging feeling in the back of your head just second guessing everything. "Did I pick the right major?" has been my main struggle, but since looking into my black women's studies minor, it's been, "Are you picking the right minor? What if this is a mistake?" And since I got this new job, it's been, "What if you don't do a good job?"
Granted, when I made Mulattea I thought it was a mistake. I figured that
1) Nobody cared about my opinion on things
2) Nobody wanted to READ my opinion on things
3) I'd get lazy and stop updating it
But somehow, almost a year later, I'm still here. Click-clacking away on Sunday nights. My readership has jumped from 2 people (my mom and dad) to over 500 people.
If you saw my Facebook post or noticed that Mulattea Monday was held off last week, then you know that my Uncle Arty passed away last weekend from a potent mixture of cancer and pneumonia. It was awful seeing him suffer, and it was heart-wrenching watching my mom and uncles try to keep everything together. So while we're all in mourning (which is so fun during your first week of college), we all feel a little relieved. A little hopeful. A little exhausted.
It was the morning after he passed, at 5 a.m. in his living room, bleary-eyed and somber, that I had a front row seat to God's timing and plan. My Uncle Woody, after pouring through my Uncle Arty's documents and stray papers, found a few stacks of paper and handed one to me while he leafed through the other. In some of the pages were my Uncle Arty's journal entries, detailing almost every day of his life for 5 years.
Of course I flipped to the day I was born, and got to read about how "Beth is a mother now," and how the child's name is, "Sky Haynes." He thought it wasn't a smart name choice, which made me literally laugh out loud. Must've been a pretty hippy-dippy name back then, considering it still is. Also—how's he gonna misspell my name like that? I gave him a pass though, considering the circumstances.
So after leafing through the pages, and seeing all of these important dates and events, I landed on a section that lowkey affirmed many of my recent life choices.
Knowing that I currently write about life as an interracial person, that I'm declaring a black women's studies major that'll deepen my knowledge of my heritage and roots, that I'm moving forward in my career and gaining experience, these words were like water to a flower.
God's timing is so mysterious at some moments, and so clear at others. At times I find myself lost in a sea of doubts. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. But then I see things like this, and a plan to prosper me seems so, so evident.
What's a Mulattea post without a little application?
Ironically, while my uncle wrote those pages, he was struggling with alcoholism. You can hear in each entry how much turmoil he was in as he battled his sin. I bet there's a couple passages where he questioned everything. God. Reality. Purposes. But by the time he passed, he'd come to Christ and shared his testimony with so many people. He inspired me; he inspired most.
So while he may have wondered the purpose of his struggle, God already knew. And while I question my own life choices, God already has it planned out. Somehow I connected with my uncle through our eras of uncertainty, and because of that, I just know I'm covered.
*I read it on the Bible App by Youversion, and I definitely recommend it! :)
Rest in peace, Uncle Arty. I know you're with Jesus.