Sometimes making decisions can be tough. Just today I had to decide between six different flavors of Pinkberry frozen yogurt. And don’t even get me started on the plethora of topping choices. I ended up going with my staple — original yogurt topped with strawberries and chocolate chips. It’s not that I don’t like trying new things, but there’s something comfortable about knowing you can count on something.
A few days ago I had to choose between hundreds of birthday cards for my dad. Some were funny, some sweet, some thoughtful, some ridiculous. (Fact: There are way too many beer-themed cards for dads these days). After what seemed like an hour of shuffling through the card aisle, I ended up finding the perfect card, only to realize that it was slightly ripped and was the last one of its kind. I ended up making the poor Papyrus salesgirl search every drawer behind the cash register for a glue stick to make an on-the-spot repair. (Mission accomplished!)
Let’s be honest: As much as I love dessert treats and greeting cards, these decisions are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. They don’t matter. There’s no great risk one way or the other, no impending doom. Other decisions, however, aren’t as simple. And making them alone is the pits.
You see, I can stand in line alone at Pinkberry and make a decision on what flavor and toppings will make that coveted trip to my tummy. And I can read greeting cards on my own and decide on the perfect card for that special occasion. But there are other decisions in life that I’d prefer to do with someone else — with that someone else.
At the current moment, my life is filled with some unknowns. I’m working through it. I’m praying and thinking and making lists of pros and cons. Work decisions, living situation decisions — decisions that can change my life, quite literally. Yet, in my thirties I’m still making these decisions alone.
Part of me thinks that’s pretty cool. I’m an independent woman. I’ve got a career and my own apartment and a reliable car that gets me from here to there. I’m a pre-Jay-Z Beyonce, a pre-Reba’s-stepson Kelly Clarson, a pre-…
It just hit me that all these independent women eventually found someone. They made decisions on their own for a while — which countries to visit on their world tours, which foreign banks to transfer their millions to — but then they weren’t alone anymore. They found people to figure out life with.
As much as I think it’s cool to be independent, at times it can be really scary — particularly when big decisions come into play.
Because wouldn’t it be easier to lean over to Jay-Z, wrap my fingers around his gold chain, and ask for his advice on a business venture? Wouldn’t it be nice to pick up the phone and call Reba just to say hi, then ask her if her stepson happens to be around to ask his take on a real estate purchase? Wouldn’t it be comforting to know that one person has your best interests in mind and is thinking about your decisions as his decisions, too?
I mean, let’s not take it too far. I don’t want to become one of those couples that can’t make even the smallest decisions without discussing them together. I can order my own sandwich, I can find my way through a grocery store without calling home 12 times and I can hang out with my friends without the permission or guidance of another human being.
But wouldn’t it be nice if someone did care what I ordered on my sandwich?
So here I am again, praying for God to shine a light — like one of those really big spotlights from Home Depot — on the path I should be taking. As much as I trust him to guide me as he always has, I can’t help but wish there was someone else here to help me sort through it along the way — someone whose hand I could hold, whose eyes I could look into, and who I could ask, “So… what do you think?”