I had a mild fifth-life crisis when I was 17.
Ever since I was in 6th grade I planned on going to UCLA and becoming a brain surgeon. I didn’t care about the endless years of school; I just knew that’s what I wanted to do. After then, my life slowly began to change.
When I was a freshman in High School, I became very involved in my church. My sophomore year, we went to a large convention. They showed a clip from an organization that plans mission trips. This was the first time I had ever seen what you actually do on a mission trip. Before, it was just some abstract concept. But to see the suffering in the children’s eyes, children who would relish even the worst of my days, it changed me. So often I take my life for granted. I have a loving family, the opportunity for an education, the ability to drink water from my faucet without worry, and to fear only catching a cold. I have so much, and with this I can see only two options: keep it to myself or share it with others.
So this led to my mild fifth-life crisis.
Of course being a surgeon would certainly help people, but for some reason that career felt restricting. I did care about the endless years of school and not being able to have a change of mind afterwards. I wanted the freedom to travel, have ideas to help, and give people an opportunity to share in my joy.
This summer I am going to South Africa to volunteer at a women’s hospital and orphanage. I am beyond excited, but I know that this will be a very humbling experience unlike anywhere I have been “excited” to travel to before. I still don’t know what plan God has for me, but I don’t need to know just yet. I know that this passion is another puzzle piece in life, and I’ll have to patiently wait for more. Until then, hopefully I don’t hit a quarter-life crisis come my next birthday.
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