"I've got my class schedule for next year!" Annemarie yells, waving papers high above her head as she dashes into my classroom. "It's totally awesome!"Momentarily slipping into Mom Mode, I stop taking attendance and scan her first semester college courses.
"You bum! Your first class won't start 'til 10:00 AM!" I protest, making my mock mad face at her (mostly for the benefit of my students, who get a kick out of our mother-daughter banter.)
"Design and Composition...3-D Graphics...Drawing...how are you going to endure three hours of drawing?" I feign concern.
"Heaven! Pure heaven!" Annemarie assures me, as she waltzes out of the room.
For the 10,000th time, I realize how much my daughter is not me.
Here she is, about to start college with a major in Fine Arts -- which she will love -- while I, her mother, can't draw a straight line to save my life. (Don't even ask me about teaching 7th grade math and drawing an object that one student proclaimed "an egg wearing a thong"!)
Well-meaning friends and relatives now delight in asking The Question: "So, what are you going to do with a Fine Arts major?"
At first, Annemarie worried, "How can God possibly use my doodling and photography? Maybe I should really consider something important, like medical school?"
Don't get me wrong: I'm not against the medical field. My father is an amazing physician. Many of my high school friends are doctors. Quite a few of my former students are in medical school.
But if there's one thing I've learned in two decades of teaching, it's that my daughter needs to follow her bliss. She doesn't need to know where it's going to lead her. Or what job openings will be available. Or what kind of salary she can expect to earn. Or what kind of social status she'll attain. Right now, she needs to dive into art and revel in it.
I've seen too many kids trade what they love doing for what they think they should be doing. And it makes me sad. I was blessed to be raised by parents who trusted God to show me His will for my life; they never pressured me to choose a particular profession.
I remember my dad telling me, "You should want to do your chosen job so badly that the thought of not doing it fills you with an incalculable sense of loss."
With that in mind, I have prayerfully done my best to "train up" Annemarie for the last eighteen years. Now I'm looking forward to cheering her on as she discovers God's plan for "the way she should go."
How do you read Proverbs 22:6? How are you "training up" your child? How do you know which "way [s]he should go"?
What kinds of expectations did your parents have for you? What kinds of expectations do you have for your child?