“Forever is the most dizzying word in the English language. The idea of staying in one place forever was like standing at the border of a foreign country, peering over the fence and trying to imagine what life might be like on the other side, and life on the other side was frankly unimaginable.”

This is Lilia’s thought, from the novel Last Night in Montreal. In that moment her father, after being on the run with her for nearly her whole life, has finally settled down and invited her to join him. She enjoys the quiet life at first, living in a house with a family and routine, but finds that she can’t stomach the idea of forever in the same place. So she leaves them.

Most of us have not traveled so much as Lilia, that we, as she puts it, “don’t know how to stay.” But we do struggle with the concept of “forever.” An internship lasts two or three months; you can enjoy the good parts, learn from the new experiences, and remind yourself that anything that doesn’t quite feel right isn’t permanent anyway. But the very nature of CAPS, this taste of adult-ing, prompts thought about what comes after—what will come in the “real world,” once we’ve graduated and gotten a job that doesn’t end with the approach of the fall semester.

One of the very best parts about working at Lutheran Social Services of Illinois this summer has been talking to people in various positions about their jobs, because some of them exude an almost tangible joy for their work. I conducted a phone interview with a Child Welfare Specialist who reunites foster children with their biological parents, and even though we never met in person it was clear that she found deep meaning and fulfillment in what she does. An employee whom I see more often took me to Starbucks to tell me all about her work, and her enthusiasm for forming connections with donors was contagious. I want to have the kind of job that makes me light up, as those women did when they exclaimed in obvious sincerity, “Yes! I love my job!”

But there will always also be people, not only at LSSI but in every workspace I’ve experienced, who come to work because it’s a job. They do their work well, and may not dislike their job, but somehow lack that touch of passion, that touch of joy. They come in to the office, day in and day out, and life goes by, and the most exciting thing about work is jeans day every now and again.

I take that back. Jeans day is actually hard to beat. But you get the point.

Perhaps the line between these two groups isn’t really quite this pointed, but it still prompts one to question—what kind of response do I want to have one day, when the new intern at my office asks me about my job? The passionate enthusiasm, or the “it’s all right?” And, the far harder question—what vocation will I find that will light up that kind of passion in me?

That’s where I’m stuck currently. I don’t know.

But what I do know is that the path thus far has become clear, not far in advance the way I’d often like it to, but rather when the moment comes to move forward. Looking for options for the summer, I spent hours on LinkedIn and Handshake applying for everything, but none of that effort was relevant after a short conversation, originally about something entirely different, with Deaconess Kristin—“you should apply for CAPS, Veronica”—and I found an incredible growing experience without even looking. It simply came when the time was right.

So, as I move forward, I will keep trying to plan. More importantly, though, I’ll keep my mind open to the different opportunities that arise. I’ll try new things, I’ll gain experience, and I’ll see where the road takes me. Who knows? I may find passion in plain sight, but it may also be hiding somewhere I’d never look for it unless I had my eyes open.

Not knowing what my forever will be, as the somewhat obsessive planner I am, can be kind of terrifying. But I don’t have to worry about my forever. My forever will unfold as it is meant to, but only if I take advantage of the beauty and growth in my today.