I was a late bloomer and well into my twenties when my teenage rebellion exploded. Most of my friends were past the hump of challenging authority and “the establishment” as we called it, but I was just getting started. What traditionally came in the color blue met resistance on my life’s canvas. I insisted on painting it yellow or pink or green. Anything but blue.
My friends looked forward to getting married and starting a family. I looked forward to getting an apartment and starting a job. I wanted to be Mary Richards, not June Cleaver. Nothing wrong with desiring independence. In some ways I was just me being me. But add on an ample dose of rebellion and the result amounted to one wrong decision after another.
Looking back, I know I was headed in the wrong direction. Deep down I knew it then. Even so, I kept going. Filled with pride and stubbornness, I had to make the decision to stop, turn around, and walk a different way for myself. No one could make that decision for me.
I’ve been asked if I have regrets. The answer is yes. I wish I’d done some things differently. But my regrets are covered in gratitude for God’s grace and mercy. Gratitude for people He brought my way who told me the truth.
I think God has a divine plan for all our lives, but I also think He doesn’t force His plan on us. He doesn’t force us to be with Him. We get to choose. For me, I know that my life is better when I choose Him.