All Figured Out
My daughters strut out of my bedroom with adult-sized purses dangling from their shoulders. Sippy cups peek through the zipper as the bags drag across the floor.
My oldest daughter adjusts her neon green sunglasses, resting them perfectly atop her head. “Um, excuse me,” she says to me, “do you work for the train station?”
I pause my dish washing and throw the damp towel over my shoulder. “Why, yes I do, ma’am. How can I help you?”
“Where can I find the CMO Red Line?”
“You’re almost there,” I say. “Just take a sharp right at the kitchen counter and head straight. When you’ve reached the floral rug, you’re there. I believe the next train leaves in 10 minutes.”
“Thank you.” She nods like everything I said made any sense, then turns to her little sister. “Come on, Elizabeth, we don’t want to be late for work.”
Elizabeth nods in response, hefting the empty purse onto her shoulder before chasing her big sis across the house.
My heart overflows as they scamper away, and I can’t help but smile. My daughters. So grown up. So ready to be big.
They think they’ve got it all figured out. I shake my head at their trivialized concept of adult life. If they only knew.
After cleaning the dishes, I shuffle the girls into the (real) van, drop them off with the babysitter, and head to a coffee shop for a few hours to write. After all, writing is my God-given calling and I feel like I’ve been slacking. I’ve got blog posts to catch up on, endless revisions to make for Capacity, a begrudging need to start the second novel in my trilogy, and a brand new idea I’m excited to begin. Just thinking about all the words that need to come from my brain exhausts me, so I sip my caffeinated drink and pull out my laptop.
As I take my sunglasses off and place them in my bag beside my water bottle, I can almost hear God laughing.
My daughter. So grown up. She thinks she’s got it all figured out.
He shakes his head and smiles at my trivialized concept of Christian life.
If she only knew.