It is nighttime during the winter. The cold air is still and quiet. Streetlights cast a dim glow and the air seems almost magical. I am walking home. On the path in front of me I see rock and start to kick it ahead of me, catch up to it, and kick it again. It helps me organize my thoughts as I think about the day and what needs to happen tomorrow. As I walk and kick, walk and kick, walk and kick, I get the feeling, “You should be a doctor.” Those simple words sink into my heart. I should be a doctor. I then remembered travelling to the hospital after my car wreck and the doctor who helped me recover. I think of the difference that I could make and the idea becomes a part of me. I should be a doctor. I begin making a plan. The next day I write home and tell my parents and brother and sister that I have decided to be a doctor. They offer me encouragement. I am nervous. Can I do everything I need to? Will I be a good doctor? Can I survive the long years of school? Where will I get the money to pay for my education? These questions come and go. I do not let them define me. Instead I am thrilled by the thought of my future. I plan and prepare. I pray that I will not let myself down. I am nervous, excited, and unsure about the future. I feel God’s hand of support and comfort. Everything will work out. As school begins my classes seem designed for me. I enjoy them and work hard. I hope to be a doctor. I feel at peace.