Mini-Van Mom Meets Mid-Life

Her name was Barb.

The Autumn of 1995 was my second year of community college and the first day of the occupational therapy assisting (COTA) program, which I had decided at the ripe old age of 18 would be a good career path for me.

At 18 years old, my knowledge of self was, well... let's just say, a work in progress. I was still discovering how I was wired or gifted. But what I already knew was that I came from a deep line of love and grace, and something within me wanted to pour out that love and care to other humans.

Choosing what to do after high school and seemingly for the rest of my life was decided through a glossy pamphlet in my high school counselor's office. I saw a college education as somewhat a means to an end. It was the next thing to do. The thing to fill time and space between high school and adulthood, which for me meant being a wife and having babies. 

So, at 19 years old, with my hair curled and my gleaming white lab coat, I took the stairs to the fourth floor and found a desk amongst a classroom of almost entirely strangers. The start of a new season. As I scanned the room, I saw the older lady. She definitely looked like a mom, someone born in a generation not my own. I remember being kind of surprised. My world was small, I was self-involved, and I was curious why a 40-something woman would be two desks down from me?

Indeed she had already reached the place I one day dreamed to be. Surely she was a wife & mother, settled & fulfilled. Why in the world would she willingly subject herself to reading, deadlines, exams, and graded performance?   

As the weeks went on, I was almost irritated by her. She was so driven and diligent. It was apparent she did the hard work while I often watched the clock during class and took naps in the library. Did adult students possess something that I did not? Did their life experiences flavor their learning? I didn't think too long about those questions at the time, but I do now. Two years passed, and I made it through the COTA program, got the degree, and received board certification and state licensure. 

I worked in geriatric occupational therapy assisting for a couple of years. I knew then, and I remember now, that what I liked most about it was caring for the patients by listening to their stories. I leaned into that harder than I did the therapeutic activities. When it came time to write progress reports, I was pretty creative with my words and medical lingo, somehow indicating that my work was fruitful and, more importantly, Medicare billable. 

That season passed quickly, and soon I arrived! I was a wife and became a mother. I was ushered into the next 15 years of my life as a stay-at-home mom. I had what I assumed old Barb had: grounding, purpose, and fulfillment. It was such a beautiful season. 10 years of which I have chronicled over at Mini-Van, Mega-Fun.

Today, I am here: Mini-Van Mom meets Mid-Life. I am not here to say that the fulfillment has waned or my purpose has faded. That is not true at all. Being a mother and that nurturing, administrative role is as vital as ever -- even as my oldest is freshly married. {{insert all the feels here because you guys, he was 6 when I started this blog 15 years ago!}}

I decided it was time to start blogging again for a few reasons:

One:

To journal, to create an archive. Sharing story is an essential way for me to recall and rejoice in God‘s faithfulness.

Two:

My mind and my writing need sharpening.

Three:

In all its irony & providence, I am a "Barb" now. An older, second-career (or third, is it?) student. Barb had then, and I do now —a story to tell. I regret not getting to know Barb's story. Perhaps my recorded experience will help another woman run after her call too.

So, last September, at 45 years old, with my hair curled and my gleaming rose-gold MacBook, I walked up the stairs to the 3rd floor and found a desk in a classroom of almost entirely strangers. 

The start of a new season. 

In September 1994, I began studies at Grand Rapids Community College. In September 2021, I started studies at Calvin Theological Seminary. 

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