Conversations with ...

We were drinking lashings and lashings of iced lemon tea that night, bezzie and I. Unwinding, talking about the dreams that used to consume us when we were younger and brasher. When you are first thrusted into young adulthood, you feel like you can single-handedly take on the world and transform it into a better place. Between then and now, when nothing much happens, you find yourself getting a little bit more jaded. And still as clueless as ever.

I was talking to a middle-aged lady the other day. She has been through a lot and emerged a survivor and seems fulfilled in raising wonderful children with a husband by her side. And yet, when I was sharing a little about how clueless I feel sometimes about the directions in life that I'm supposed to take, she echoed the same sentiments.

I expected to hear something like, "You young people these days have a lot more time to brood and too many options to choose from. No wonder you are confused!"

But instead she commented with a sigh, "Yeah, I am wondering where should I go to next myself. Life's pretty interesting that way, isn't it?"

Interesting is an interesting word by itself. It can denote anything and is most commonly used to describe something one is relunctant to call unpleasant. In other words, it's more politically correct to use 'interesting' compared to 'yucks'.

When I shared that encounter with the lady, bezzie and I pondered thoughtfully upon it for a moment. We've always thought that when we reached that age, we would at least know where we were heading to. At least, it would not be so scary not knowing where the long and winding road leads to. But apparently not.

"I am convinced," bezzie said. "That God will not let us forget the promises we made and the dreams that we have committed upon His hands. That in time, He will remind us and make a way for us."

I believed that myself. Only now, I quake in my boots thinking of all the promises I made when I was hot-blooded and consumed by passion to rock the world - especially going to remote places and making a difference there. Perhaps God will let me off the hook or look upon those promises in a symbolic kinda way or something. One can hope.