I remember reading, years ago, an anecdote about a girl who was applying to college. Her father was given a questionaire to complete about her, and was bemused by a question that asked whether she was a leader. He thought about it, and then responded that she was not a leader, but she was an excellent follower. A letter of admission soon followed, which stated that in a class of 1999 leaders, it’s good to know they’ll have at least one follower.
I don’t know what I am. Maybe I’m a muddled up mixture of both.
I try to be a peacemaker, as I hate contention. My efforts to make peace, though, frequently blow up in my face, much to my consternation. I like to emulate what I see as the best in my friends, although what’s good for them may not be good for me, so I’m learning to take things slowly.
I wish I could turn back the clock just a little–not to be at a specific space and time–but to regain some old feelings that I’ve misplaced. A time when I was strong and confident in my faith. A time when I still believed I was going to be a mother. Maybe even a time when I actually could have become a mother, if there ever were such a time.