Maris and I used to make-believe a lot. Maybe that was a side effect of being home schooled, or maybe it was just a side effect of being awesome. Sometimes we would pretend that we were public schooled. This game basically consisted of going into the kitchen and filling a plastic sack with whatever mom had made for lunch, and then bringing the sack into the dining room (which was also the school room) and eating it. Let me tell you, some vivid imagination was at work in that game. Vastly overshadowing “public school,” our favorite make-believe was “college students.” The lens of college life made everything so much more exciting. In actuality, our dilapidated house, shared bedroom, and ancient bunk beds were far more close to the reality of college life than we could know at the time. I think the excitement of the game was the imagined freedom that came with it. It’s not like we were doing a whole lot different from regular life, it was just that we could pretend that we were grown, and could control our own lives. We were eager to be at that legendary stage of life that so much of media focuses on.
I’m not complaining about college life at all, that isn’t the point of this post. If I ever forget about how blessed I am to be here, all I have to do is wait around for the maintenance staff to come clean my toilet twice a week. I’m just saying, growing up is about a lot more than grasping your freedom and going to parties (disclaimer: home schooled Emma’s make-believe college life did not involve wild partying, so stop judging me right now).
What growing up means to me now:
1. Writing blog posts for fun
2. Getting distracted from my homework by my psychology textbook
3. Working at 60 hour work weeks all summer, and not blowing the money on a pony (I’m allergic to ponies)
4. Instead, blowing the money moving across the country to be closer to my family
5. Finally realizing that I can’t work my way into financial security: I still have to rely on God, and He’s a much better ally than Chick-Fil-A
6. Taking a campus security job (if you know me, you know all the many reasons why this is funny)
7. Refraining from laughing through the “driver safety” video during DPS orientation
8. Teaching myself to parallel park, sort of
In Life Span Development (the worst class on my schedule this semester, in case you were wondering), we recently studied Piaget’s Preoperational stage, which is supposedly children from ages 2-7. One aspect of this stage is egocentrism (by the way, one of the scientists on that page is named Butterworth) (by the way, my high school English teacher’s name was Mrs. Butterworth) (by the way, she was also my softball coach) (by the way, we never won a game) (by the way, sorry about this ridiculous sentence). It’s basically thinking that I am the center of the universe. Although it isn’t the same thing as selfishness, it’s in the same family tree.
I feel like one of the biggest things that I am still learning is to not to be selfish. Yeah, maybe I grew out of Piaget’s Preoperational stage, but that doesn’t mean I don’t act like this world still revolves around me. I blog about myself, tweet about myself, think about myself, spend money on myself, fight for my rights, get upset when people disagree with me or don’t do things the way I think they should, and I serve God how I want to. I think a big part of this is pride. Even if I have low self esteem, I can still be very prideful. I try not to embarrass myself, don’t talk about God when it will be awkward, don’t serve others if it is outside of my comfort zone, don’t actively demonstrate that I am a saved sinner. That’s probably why I have trouble forgiving: grudges are my defense mechanism. If i let go of my anger, that person can hurt me again. But it isn’t supposed to be about me, it’s supposed to be about God. Who am I to think that my selfish bitterness can protect me anyway? That isn’t my role, my role is to give it to God. He’s the one with the power, not me.
Yes, I gain a lot of freedom of choice with age, but I get to choose God, and sometimes that means giving up my liberties so that I can help others see Christ. I’m free from sin, not free too sin. I’m free to serve God, but too often (all the time) I let my pride interfere and keep me from shining my light, showing love, standing up for good, or trying to serve, either because I’ll be embarrassed, rejected, ridiculed, or unsuccessful.
When I was longing for college years, I didn’t have a clue what was in store for me, but I guess that pretty much describes my life. By the way, I am by no means trying to imply that I have grown up or intend on growing up any time soon. As proof, the following is a display of my immaturity, mainly in the form of crass humor. I apologize if I offend any of my readers. Seriously, though, my mom is going to see this and laugh, so you should just get off your high horse right now.
1. Ok, I promise I won’t make fun of Drewseph in every post, but Sarah was watching it tonight.
2. I took the B**** IQ test tonight in my terrible Life Span class. I got a 20%. You try. And yes, that’s the real acronym for it.
3. Sarah and I leave our windows open a lot, and since we’re on first floor, people walk by within earshot all the time. Lately I have taken up screaming things like “Sarah, don’t you come closer!” “Sarah shut up!” “Cut it out, I’m warning you!” “How dare you try to date Thomas!” and the like. So far, no one has called DPS on us.
4. Our friendly neighborhood Chick-Fil-A is located right next to the Do It Center. It’s a hardware store.
5. Sometimes Sarah likes to waste hours drawing pictures of obscure teen movie stars that she doesn’t even know. Sometimes I like to creep on her doing so.