Call it destiny, kismet or fate – but there are defining moments in each of our lives that have to be more than coincidence.  That when we look back at things that happen to us or choices we’ve made, we see just how incredible each turn of events was, if we are paying attention.  

Personally, in those moments I choose to see God’s hand at work.  Not because I want to see it, but because I can feel it.  Small and simple reminders that I am not alone.  A gentle whisper that I can hear in my soul amid all the hectic busyness of life.  But sometimes these things happen so fleetingly or I give myself the credit and it’s easy to take those events, big or small, for granted.

In this digital age, we have so much stored, yet so much meaning is lost.   The best we have are thousands of images saved to a device, usually, if we are lucky.  And in most cases, the feelings or significance behind those photos are forgotten.  Any hint of spirituality is devoid from the most beautiful moments captured.

Unless you take a breath, and remember.  Record it so that it is preserved, not just by sight but by heart.

But where do I begin? 

It seems the first thing people ask each other upon meeting is, “So, what do you do?”, as if your career defines you.  Well, it rarely scratches the surface on getting to know someone, but it’s a decent place to begin.  

A lot has changed in these last few years, but for a long while it was my identity.

So, I guess I’ll begin there - 

I taught science.

High School Biology.

I have always loved science.  Nature is and was always fascinating to me.  Some of my fondest childhood memories were exploring right outside my back door.  My cat, Betty, would roll around, her black tuxedo fur shining in the sun; while I would lose track of time turning over rocks to find snails and slugs, crouching along sidewalk cracks, patiently watching the behavior of ant colonies or collecting jars of caterpillars from the trunks of trees.

Growing up I always said I wanted to be a veterinarian or entomologist, but those were the fickle dreams of a little girl.  By the time I actually entered college, I decided I didn’t have the stamina nor the guts for becoming a doctor.  And careers in entomology usually led to figuring out how to kill creepy crawlies, when, as most people who know me will tell you - I am the kind of person who saves earthworms from drying out on the sidewalk or takes the garden spider into her house just to save it from a heavy rain storm.

So, I decided to settle on a career as a science teacher.

I landed my dream job straight out of college.  

Or so I thought.

The idea of sharing my enthusiasm for science and teaching kids the wonders of nature and the human body seemed like a perfect fit.  But as I got into it, sometimes I wished my students were much younger.  When they were still excited about the world around them and not jaded by critical peers and riddled with their own unpredictable hormones.  I quickly found that teaching wasn’t as rewarding as I hoped it would be.  I still liked the idea of it, but parts of being a high school teacher were more challenging than I had anticipated. The low pay and interactions with bored students took their toll on me.  

Just a few years into it I began to feel burnt out.  

And honestly, some days I dreaded going in.

It’s hard enough to teach those who want to learn, but teaching and guiding those who couldn’t care less, well…that’s another subject entirely.  

A cliché.  

The High School Senior.  

I remembered being one.  I was a good student and did all my work, participated in clubs and events, was on yearbook - but even I didn’t care about going to school to learn Senior year. It was a time to be carefree with friends, flirt with boys, test the waters of young adulthood and rebel against all those older than us; the adults we just knew didn’t understand us and we didn’t want to end up like.  

Many of us looking ahead to college and anticipating all life had to offer us in the future.  We felt we owned the world and the world owed us, or in some cases, we were going to change the world.  A heady mixture of wanting to be taken seriously and reveling in irresponsibility. 

An intoxicating season in a young person’s life.  

And yet it seems at that age you’re never satisfied.  

There was a restless undercurrent to everything they did.

I found that my students, and high school students in general, just didn’t want to be there.  It was a time of high socialization.  A time to test friendships and try out love and physicality with each other.  But they were always so eager to move on. I had been too.  Like childhood was some race to a finish line.  

But then what? 

Young adulthood has its glory moments too, but high school is all fun and games.  All fun and minimal consequence with the illusion of responsibility.

They didn’t seem to realize that this time of their lives wasn’t something to rush through.  That one day they would look back on their memories and only wish they could be Seniors and seventeen again.  That’s what I’d always heard too at their age and rolled my eyes at.  

My impression of them now that I was on the other side, looking back – was that all of them were beautiful and interesting.  The girls and the boys - and the shame was that it seemed that none of them truly knew it.  

Yes, the cute boys and the pretty girls knew they were in style or attractive, but I mean, none of them realized how beautiful they were – inside.  And that they were more than just high school status or looks.  

They were smarter and funnier and more talented than they cared to recognize yet.  All they were worried about was what everyone else was doing.  Judging themselves and others, a pastime, a hobby.   Merciless in their criticism of themselves and everyone else, including friends, enemies and yes, definitely even teachers. 

No matter how much faith or religion they had, they were all seduced by technology.  Their phones and their social media were their gods and celebrity and entertainment, their prayers.  There was just too much to distract them.  

With the invention of cell phones and social media, it’s a wonder any of us ever got anything done, teachers or students.  When I was in high school, we didn’t have those things.  But even still, at that age, even for myself, everyone was caught up in cliques, status and gossip – both school and celebrity.  

When you’re a teenager rarely anything matters to you outside of your own little bubbles you create for yourself with your friends.  The flip side being, that the network they had of little tribes they ascribed to now and put so much stock in was something that didn’t even matter in the long run.  

They would forget and have to move on.  

Move up and into true adulthood.    

And although, in the grand scheme of things, this time in school didn’t matter, the high school years were still precious. One day they would look back on these final days of high school and give anything to be that “fat” or “ugly” again.  To have the same “problems”. 

I’m sure they thought I was stupid and that my class was pointless and dumb.  And honestly, it probably was.  At least for the stage of life they were in.  So, I stood no chance in my classroom.  They were simply doing their time, and if I was lucky, they might remember just a little something.  

But probably not much.

If they needed biology, they would find a way to learn it in their future lives as adults.  

Maybe they would see it in a treatment a doctor gave them or in the birth of a baby. Or a myriad of basically anything…But one way or another, eventually they’d all discover that science was amazing.  My job was just to hold their attention for an hour at best, within the confines of four walls until they graduated and grew up.  And were free to explore the world further.  And hopefully spark an interest for science in the future.  

I was no Neil de Grasse Tyson or Bill Nye the Science Guy, but that was my goal each year.  

Just inspiring one student.  

High school was a time to experience new things and find yourself so that once you graduated you could spread your wings. Fall or fly, at least you tried. 

I never really had.

I wish I had taken more risks.  Made more friends.  Branched out and not let my own imaginary limitations hold me back.  I wish that I had been bolder.  Traveled more.  

But I didn’t do any of those things.  I took the safe road.  High School to college and then straight into a secure job.  

My name to my students was Ms. Adams.  

Phoebe to those around me who knew me, but to them I was Ms. Adams.  

Not Mrs.

Miss.  

That’s because at the time I wasn’t married.  

Whether they meant it or not, people often told me that I could pass for a teenager…although I was still usually carded when I bought my beloved red wine.  Just like now, my hair was usually up in a ponytail. Still in the same shade of light brown that I was born with.  I’ve never been the primping kind of girl.  I don’t bother with makeup unless it’s a big social event, like a wedding.   A little pink blush and lip gloss can go a long way.  

If I was being honest, I still felt like a teenager then, I just had bigger things in my life to manage.  I was still finding myself and getting my bearings.  Discovering who I was and what I wanted.

It took me a while to grow up.

Right out of college, I was still so naïve.  

In much the same way as my students, I wasn’t satisfied with my current life and kept looking ahead.

I had a job, apartment and my own money but the next step was to settle down.

By the time I was 26 and a few years into my career, I was already feeling the pressure to get my boyfriend, Nick, to put a ring on my finger.  It makes me laugh now to think that I perceived age 30 looming in the distance as some sort of a death sentence, as if a clock would run out and I’d be out of luck with no chance for any future happiness.

Not understanding that I was being guided, and that I only needed to trust.  I didn’t need to force anything or try to control it myself.

God will show you what you need, and provide what is best, in due time.

I still had faith in destiny, and divine intervention…and in my heart I believed that if I was meant get married, whether to Nick or someone else, then I still had time. 

I always believed that God had a man set aside for me.

I never stopped praying that my life choices and heart would lead me to that right man. I spent many years wondering if I’d recognize him.  Life can be complicated, and I was so caught up in my own head and emotions that I wasn’t sure if I could trust my own judgement anymore.  Sometimes it’s hard to tell God’s will from our own.

But that is where unforgettable moments of amazement come in.  When we are forced to let go and give in to the mystery of the spiritual, because there is no other explanation.

Many times, in my sorrow or doubt, I have questioned why things happened, but looking back, I can see how each step was put into place.  

How each experience carefully crafted me, building me up and breaking me down again and again, so that I would be ready.  And so that I could see clearly in retrospect. 

Even if I don’t ever fully understand it, in hindsight, I just know it was meant to be.

I often marvel at how many people have touched my life, in little, and big ways.  Just meeting one person can open up your world to so many new connections, whether a brief exchange or a lasting friendship, it ripples out and changes who you would have been, forever.  

And when you look back, you can’t even imagine how life would have been without knowing them, or who you would have been had you not met them.  It’s as if God hand-picked them just for you, and placed them in your path for a reason.  

Aidan is one of those people for me.

I still smile when I think about the first time that I saw him…