I have a friend who asks stinky questions. On purpose. For two reasons. First, to really be stinky and second, to figure out how my brain works.
I plan on being in Italy for about a decade. We'll see what God has in store. The other night my friend asked, "So what are you going to be doing in ten years?" Everyone around the table got wide eyed and I said, "I don't know." His wife turned to him and said, "What are YOU going to be doing in ten years?" He thinks he knows. Maybe he does.
And I keep thinking about that question. I don't want to be scared by it. I want to live expectantly waiting on where God is going to take me.
Maybe I'll move to Spain and open a restaurant. Maybe I'll be taking care of my parents and sister in New Braunfels. Maybe I'll still be in Italy... or Zimbabwe... or in Dallas. Maybe I'll run a little flower shop in Venice or will be writing a book. The possibilities are endless.
What I hope is that in ten years I'll be praying more. I hope I'll be more real, more eternally minded. I hope I'll be less selfish and more daring. I hope I'll be more wise and listen better. I hope that I'll know God more. I hope that I'll be more relaxed and more diligent. I hope that I'll be less of a perfectionist and more pure. I hope that the people I love will know how I feel. I hope that I will still get teary-eyed easily and that I'll still cry when I laugh hard.
Ready. Set. Go.