Meaning
The Call: How Do I See Myself? — Cheryl
Sometimes I think back over my early years and laugh. There is no way I could have envisioned my life the way it is now.
In high school, I was led to believe that meaning in life was tied up with careers and what other people thought of you.
In college, the notion took on more depth, but even then I imagined a life in which a career (as a college professor, perhaps, or an editor at some big magazine or publishing house) played a major role. Sure, I might get married and have kids, but I saw no reason why I couldn’t also have a fulfilling work life.
My first real job after college was in an office setting with people who hadn’t seemed to find any significant meaning in life beyond paying the bills and having a fun weekend.
It took marriage to a deep thinker and a job at The Denver Catholic Register, where the people in my building signed up for half-hour shifts in front of the Eucharist every Friday, to get my mind pointed firmly in the right direction. Even then, though, I thought I could do it all. It wasn’t until about a month before my first child was born that I realized my calling, above all else, was to motherhood.
My children give shape to my life, but God gives my life meaning. That realization sometimes gets lost in the responsibilities of life or in trying to make something fit a preconceived notion, but I always come back to it.