WiW: Grown-up Girl

What makes a boy into a man?

Is it the growth of facial hair, the deepening of the voice, the sudden sprout of long limbs?

Is it finally learning to shave without (too many) strips of toilet paper on one’s face, learning to speak without squeaking, learning to walk comfortably with those new long limbs?

Or is it something else entirely, something not physiological, something beyond development?

Jo (of Three Star Night) quotes a Glamour article that posits that the difference between boys and men is that men have steady jobs, own houses, and generally settle down.

Jo disagrees somewhat:

“Boys want a great number of things. Men will sacrifice to achieve those goals. He will make sacrifices to hold down a job, to pay the rent, to commit to a church, and commit to a woman. Ironically enough, the thought of making that sacrifice should shake a man’s confidence. But the man of God isn’t confident in his own strength, he is confident in the strength that God gives. God’s strength is made perfect in weakness for us all.”

Recently I’ve been thinking about the difference not just between boys and men but more generally between kids and adults.

Likely it’s just growing pains, but I’m not sure whether I like this whole “adult” gig.

Getting up morning after morning and going to work. Sticking something out even after it becomes mundane (as opposed to my previous academic lifestyle where I switched things up every semester–with new classes, new students, new subject matter.) Not getting a break every 8 weeks or so.

I still feel like I’m fumbling to find my way in this grown-up world.

I want grown-up life to be easy–but isn’t that just another example of my immaturity? Don’t grown-ups recognize that life isn’t easy and deal with it? Instead, I find myself imagining a hundred scenarios that might allow me to escape the grown-up drudgery of office, home, sleep, rinse and repeat.

I have plenty of wants–I want a clean home, time to craft, a husband beside me, and a house full of children. I want to quit my job (not because I dislike what I do, but because I dislike having to do it daily). I want to own a house. I want to grow a garden. I want to have more time to read, to ride my bicycle, to take pictures. I want, I want, I want.

Like a child in a toy store, I’m full of wants, sometimes even demands.

So often, still, I speak like a child, I reason like a child, I act like a child.

But I don’t want to remain a child. I want to be a grown-up–if I only knew what a grown-up was.

I certainly hope being grown-up doesn’t mean mere resignation to monotony or having work define one’s life.

But I think I’m beginning to see that being a grown-up does have an aspect of contented obedience. It’s faithfully being a steward of the time I’ve been given; a faithful steward of the job, the relationships, the home, the stuff I’ve been given. It’s faithfully leading the young hearts that have been entrusted to my care in Sunday School. It’s faithfully going to work and doing my best.

Being a grown-up doesn’t mean resignation–it means willful, obedient contentment.

Lord, would you help me mature into that kind of grown-up girl.

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