Moveable?

Have you ever prayed a prayer, and then wondered later, as your prayer seemed to be answered, if that was something you really meant to have? I have several of those prayers in my life. They are prayers I prayed in my youth, prayers I prayed as a high school student who was determined to change the world. Prayers prayed in rebellion against what I perceived to be the status quo lifestyle of adults around me. I am not certain when I first prayed that God would keep me moveable, but IÃ?m guessing it was sometime during or directly following a short term mission trip during my senior high years. Short term trips changed my life, and after participating in several of them, it seemed inconceivable to me that there were people in my church who have never been on one! I prayed then that I would always been moveable. That if God needed me, I would never be so tied down to a job or a debt or any other thing that would keep me from being available and obedient to whatever He had for me. I prayed that my heart and mind would be moveable, too. I did not ever want to be so hardened that I could not learn new lessons, and I never wanted to be so stiff necked that I could not be humbled by a new revelation of God?s sweet grace. I am twenty-seven now. Not old. But not terribly young anymore, either. Most of my friends are married. They have full-time, paying jobs with sizeable incomes. Many of them have purchased homes. Some of them are having children. I am still moveable. The first few years out of college and into seminary, I was so thankful for that prayer. I wore it as a badge, I think. But, I confess, as so many people around me begin to put down roots and my life remains so flexible, I wonder if I really meant that prayer. I doubt there was any way I could have fully appreciated the ramifications of God's answer, what it would feel like that no one thing holds you to a place and that any day, God could say "move" and you would have no basis to argue. I laugh inside even as I try to articulate these thoughts. It's not an easy concept to explain. There is such a part of me that is still grateful that God didn't give me enough insight to truly fathom what I was asking of Him when I first prayed to be moveable. There is a part of me, especially on the lonely days, that would take it back if I thought I could. But, truthfully, I cannot, and I am reminded of so many promises of Scripture about God's trustworthiness. He does all things well, and if this is the life He has chosen for me, who in the world am I to think I could have chosen better?