Just once, I want to finish something. Other than a season's worth of a show on Netflix.

On Monday, I start classes. Again. This will be my fourth attempt at college. Yes, fourth. I have changed my mind a hundred times since that first attempt, and this time I have settled on the paralegal program--for two reasons. 1) It takes about a year to complete, which is just short enough that I should be able to stay interested, and 2) It's one of those jobs that is just important enough that you can convince yourself that you are doing something to change the world, but without the kind of commitment required that keeps you from doing the things you want. Like being with your family. And watching all 9 seasons of The X Files.

I have this tendency to identify HUGE dreams and goals. I get really excited about it too. I plan out, in detail, how I can accomplish these things. There are lists involved, copious amounts of research, and lots of deep talks with my husband and my parents.

When I was 18, I was going to major in vocal music at Western Michigan University. I didn't even go to the audition for choir once I finally arrived on campus. In fact, I only lasted on campus for just shy of a month. It was like an extended summer camp. I quickly moved on to Education, English/Creative Writing, and at one point I seriously considered Political Science so I could go to law school.

When I was 25, I convinced everyone who would listen that I was going to learn how to play the guitar. I pictured myself in coffee shops and churches, playing acoustic versions of meaningful songs and singing away. I learned two chords and took one lesson. Recently, the guitar made its way back to Michigan with a dear friend who promised to give it to someone with more commitment than I seem to possess. Most recently, I bought a sewing machine, though I am not even capable of fixing a button. I'm sure you understand my husband's fear.

Going back to school is a test. I want to see if I finally have what it takes to stick with something and follow through. I want to finish it, so I can show all the people who've been waiting for years that I AM capable of all those wonderful things they said about me.

I wonder what would happen if my 28 year old self could tell my 18 year old self, "You know all those goals you have? You will not actually accomplish a single one." I hope that after seeing the disbelief and tears in my younger self's eyes, my more "mature" self would have the decency to say something reassuring like, "The other things, the goals you haven't created yet but will achieve, will almost make up for all the things you thought you'd do." Except, of course, for school.

I have books. I have pencils. I have little folders--but no Trapper Keeper. I have a flash drive waiting for assignments. And I have a grim--yes, grim--determination to finally follow through.


Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Corinthians 9:24