All my life, I knew that God called me to two things: motherhood and writing. What I didn’t expect was that neither would continue, and as I grew into the second half of 50, I would need to reinvent myself.
Never did I mind shelving my college career to stay home and raise my five children, and to home school them. I relished every moment of baking with them, playing, wiping noses, discovering bugs in the woods and reading bedtime stories. Along the way, it paved the opportunity to care for my parents and grandparents–all precious moments in time, etched in all eternity.
But as the children grew the need for me has dissipated; and as the newspaper and magazine business has changed, my services are no longer utilized as they once were. Gone are the ten story a week paychecks, and what services I do provide are both under-appreciated and a monetary disappointment.
These monumental changes often leave me wondering, what next? Am I finished? Has my usefulness run out? Is there still an ultimate plan for me?
With unwavering emphasis, I do believe God has something wonderful up His sleeve, but for now, he has not made me privy to His secrets.
As I try to remain obedient, prayerful, and do my part to serve as wife, caretaker, mother, grandmother and occasional writer, I am reluctantly exploring other options to increase our fiscal survival.
So this is day one of the journey. As the job market is scarce, and the need for a freelance writer is probably not a valued commodity for most jobs, my applications have so far taken the path of Starbucks, Walgreens and McDonald’s. I giggle to myself (perhaps giggle is not the appropriate term) when I think of myself working alongside high school students with more retail experience than I have, and wonder if a manager will take the chance on a middle aged woman just trying to pay the bills.
Stay tuned–I refuse to give up.