A gal I meet with for spiritual direction encountered her quarter-century-birthday last month. Unlike the celebratory session I might’ve guessed, however, it was exceptionally sad. In summary, she had distinct expectations for where she would be at this point in her life. And they were “far from her reality.”

Help me understand what you mean by that, I requested:

“I mean a lot of things…
I mean I’m not married.
I mean have no children.
I have a job, but not a stable, or steady one, and I’m not even positive I wanna keep it, or even stay in the field.
I feel close to my family in some ways, but also like I shouldn’t be, because I’m supposed to be a “grown-up” now.
I’ve never had sex.
I’ve never even had a real date.
I mean I’m a let-down to society.
I don’t know how to make a casserole, or bake a homemade pie.
I don’t know how do my taxes, or do laundry without messing-up clothes every few loads.
I don’t know what the point of me is—I’ve spent twenty-five years as something other than dust, but that’s all I feel like (dust).”
I have nothing to say for my two and a half decades. He/she/it gave me a chance and look what I’ve done for it—nothing."

Who is he/she/it again?

“Society.”

Okay, and what would it look like not let he/she/it down?

"I don’t know…I guess I’d know who I was and where I was going. I’d be married and have at least one kid and maybe another on the way. I’d own a home and meet with women in my neighborhood for book club. I’d understand finances and have balanced perspectives on life and God and money and all the stuff you’re supposed to know at my age."