No "real world" for me, please.

I’ve felt myself shrinking lately. Shrinking when someone asks me where I’m working now that I am out of college. Shrinking as I explain the options I am looking at for the months to come, options that fill my heart but not necessarily my bank account. Shrinking under the weight of comparison as I watch my friends graduate with degrees with job security and go on to start their “big-kid” careers. I’ve been living this post-grad life for less than a month, and I’ve already traded sleepless nights writing papers for sleepless nights worrying about saving for retirement.

Welcome to the “real world” everyone tells me.

Welcome to adulthood.

I’ve never been one to particularly care about money. I’ve never been one to apply for a job simply for the potential paycheck. Yet here I am, doing just that at 1 a.m. because of this vast unknown that lies before me. Here I am being consumed by such a worldly fear. Here I am doubting my God of plenty, playing right into scarcity’s hands.

I’ve always hated that phrase: “the real world.” It is commonly used when talking about those of us on the brink of transition. It is said with a slight laugh as though us young people are in for this terribly rude awakening. That we are about to find out that the second you start working a 9-to-5 job you’re going to realize that all the good ol’ days are behind you. The life we lived before—where we could dream and hope and imagine and be inspired—was nothing but child’s play and to enter into the “real world” we have to lay those things down. 

Which is odd, considering I grew up being told that I could do and be whatever I wanted. I know now that was probably a bold claim to make to a child, but it was never made without the mention of the hard work any endeavor takes. I was never led to believe for a second that anything would come easy. Rather, I was told to wildly chase after the things that felt worth it. 

It was this freedom that cultivated my imagination, fostered my work ethic, and led me to write and create. It was this freedom that provoked all my awe and wonder. It was the thing that let life keep its magic. It helped me not be afraid of the world I was growing up in.

Then later, when I came to know Jesus, I was told that the most important thing in my life was to be obedient, to go and do whatever He called. I was told His calling would probably be counter-cultural and probably wouldn’t lead me to places of comfort and ease, but He would keep His promises. He would be all that I lacked, and it would be more than enough. And simply loving and serving Him all the days of my life would be the fullest life I could ever hope to live, even if the day-to-day tasks are seemingly small. 

So now as I stand here, at the “real world’s” gate, I’m a bit confused. Does none of that actually apply here? Was it all talk? Am I really being asked to lay down all that has always felt tangible and worth it, all the things that I feel in my bones I was created for, simply to meet the requirements of these modern-day expectations and ideas, to enter the “real world?”

I think I’m going to have to politely decline the real world’s offer to enter in. 

It feels more like the scheming of a fear running rampant. It feels to me more like a ruse built up of the lies of an enemy masquerading as truth. It seems to me like the kind of place where you end up with less, despite your abundance of worldly more. 

Yeah—no "real world" for me, please.

Instead, I’m going to practice trust and patience. I’m going to study the Word and become diligent in prayer. I’m going to care more about being a devoted servant than having a successful career. I’m going to be a good steward of what money I have, learn to want less and grow contentment more. Instead, I am going to work really hard and chase wildly after the things I was made for.  I'm going to work the jobs that get me closer, teach me what I need to get closer to, even if they aren't the dream. I’m going to keep my awe and wonder alive by kicking this worldly fear to the curb. I’m going to let life be magic once more and going to sleep soundly knowing the One I serve is in control.

I’m going to choose not to shrink anymore.

As long as I’m living in His world, living His life for me—that’s more than enough.

That's more real than anything.

words by Jacqueline Winstead and photo by Arianna Taralson