My 20th high school reunion was 2 weeks ago. I talked to many people who each had an opinion on either thier own experience or whether or not I should attend mine. I had decided at one point not to go because I had gotten caught up in trying to figure out what I would say to people when they asked me what I was doing now. Every time I imagined the scene, "So Julia, what do you do?" asks someone I am struggling to recognize through all of the self-tanner and sagging skin - "I am a Christian!" is the answer I blurt. Here I imagine they judge me and write me off as a feeble minded idiot who is at any moment going to tell them what a miserable sinner they are and try to save their soul.
The other option, same question- this time I go into detail... "Well I live with my sister and she has a daughter, Stella, and we have two other single girls who live with us and it is part of our ministry. I also teach, and right now am leading a group of ladies through the story of God. And I have traveled all over the world on mission trips, most recently to the Czech Republic, and..." I trail off as I see their eyes glaze over and they start to search the room for another recognizable face to use as an excuse to escape.
It's not whether or not I have a big house or a fancy car or kids or even a husband that I feel like I needed to justify my existence, but at least I need to have an good answer as to just what it is that I spend my days doing. Not too much to ask I don't think. Of myself, and of God.
My life since deciding to follow Jesus has been an extraordinary case of of strange requests. I have often been in a season that required some real thought as to how to explain what I 'do.' Having inherited my dads predisposition for pride I have not felt very concerned about what others thought about that answer, when I have been able to come up with one, until the reunion began looming in the near future.

Honestly the only thing I was bummed about is the fact that over the last year or so I have gained back some weight I lost and that would have been really nice to walk into that bar looking smokin', 38 year old, hot. So with that to accept and the explanation of my existence to figure out, I leaned heavily toward the 'no I will not attend' box.

How do you sum up 20 years without those pretty normal things to show for it? And even though most of the time I do not feel like my life is less full because I do not have those things, considering the explanation of what I have been doing caused me to spend some time thinking about what I have been through and how I got here.

Come back next week and I'll tell you what I discovered and what I decided.