A move from North America to Africa is expected to change me. To grow me into the person I am meant to be. And that is true: I am becoming more centred, more sure of who I am as a woman. And then there are moments where I still feel like that lost 17 year old at Freshman week – loudly and obnoxiously desperately seeking attention at all costs. How can I feel matured in certain areas of my life, but be completely childish in other? I am pondering the relative notion of growing up and I came across this:
“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically.
We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly.
We grow partially. We are relative.
We are mature in one realm, childish in another.
The past, present, and future mingle
and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present.
We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”
– Anais Nin via
And on this idea of growing up? I feel at a loss. At times I long for the innocence of a child where cancer is not a word to contend with,
or to become that independent single woman who doesn’t seek the attention of men but rather the favour of God,
or to be like a child where mirrors are for dancing in front of, not judging and whistfully wishing for something better.
Oh, how I long to be more like Christ, every day.
In order to grow I cannot think of it as failing when my former self pushes through. No, this is a journey, and each step is towards glory. I press on towards the goal.