A Finished Life?

From Kate Bowler on a podcast recently listened to:

“I am letting myself off the hook for the feeling that there’s going to be a finished life for me.”

It is, on true reflection, a comical thought, isn’t it, even absurd if you have reached adulthood and “been around the block a time or two” — the thought (much less the expectation) that somehow, some way, all the loose ends are taken care of and everything is wrapped up in a nice, tidy, attractive package, the scissors and tape are put away in their place, and we get to the Post Office  before it closes to drop the package off. Whose life is that?

I like Bowler’s pluck.  No apologies.  Like a voice mail that says: “You’re just gonna have to accept the package as is.  I dropped it off on your doorstep late last night while I was out putting air in my tires because my low air pressure light came on in my car, or maybe it was just because the temperature dropped, anyway, it is in the Whole Foods paper sack my groceries were in last week.  Sorry, one of the handles is unglued, and be careful, there are some fragile items in there.  But anyway, there it is. Enjoy.”