Calling

I read something on an Instagram page I follow that has wormed its way into my psyche and I can't shake it:

Remember: God is using all your experiences, both good and bad, to develop your character to match your calling. -lysa terkeurst

The author of the quote is a well-known Christian non-fiction writer and also president of the Proverbs 31 Ministries. I confess that until now I had never heard of Ms. TerKeurst and her work. I am going to change that immediately.

And those last two words are stuck in my mind like a briar:

"...your calling."

What is that? How does that apply to me? What does this mean if I don't have the answers?

The standard, non-religious, meaning for a Calling is:

A calling is a strong inclination to do something that you feel uniquely qualified for and enjoy passionately. It can be your job, a hobby, raising a family, charity work, or a way of relating to and helping others. Callings can look different for everyone.

I've never felt this way about anything. There are things I enjoy - hobbies mostly - but have never seen them as a calling.

Am I the outlier on this? Do others have a calling of some sorts...and if they do when do they discover it? Commit to it? 

I certainly know plenty of people who have a calling - teachers, priests, deacons, nuns, law enforcement, the rescue work done by firefighters and EMTs, healers like doctors & nurses. 

I know I've never had dreams to do anything in particular. I've kind of stumbled along in my life, made things up as I go along. I also flit from one interest to another and back again. I don't stay with one thing for too long. Even my photography - arguably the one secular passion I have - comes and goes with the winds.

I titled this image: Facing the World

My faith is one area that I remain committed & devoted to. I am a passionate Lector at our Parish. And it is one of the greatest honors as a lay person to serve Communion from time to time.

But a calling? I've never prayed about it. Never even considered it. I've spent most of my life - from early childhood until the last 5 years or so (that's roughly 50 years) just - surviving. Being in fight-or-flight for that long is hard to step away from. I'm doing the work on that and I can feel it starting to subside just a little. 

Perhaps with more prayer & meditation, I can find if I do have a calling.

Perhaps - it's just for me to have survived a brutal childhood and early adulthood, to survive the aftermath, to survive the many small breakdowns that have occurred in the past 5 years or so.

Maybe all that God's wants for me to do is - survive. And thrive.

Perhaps that is calling enough.

I Broke...

the girl who seemed unbreakable,
broke.
she dropped the fake smile and whispered,
"jesus i can't do this anymore."
and he replied,
"daughter, i never wanted you to,
i've been waiting for you to
let me carry you."

This is me, now.

For several weeks I have felt the breaking coming. Work has been a bear - more than that really. I lack the language skills to adequately describe it all. The people are:

• Truly stupid.
• Argumentative. 
• Know-it-alls.
• Literally filthy pigs. 

And the job itself - bombarded from all sides all day, every day. Not a moment to catch my breath before something else is shoved in my face with its attendant demands. And the load increases daily with no relief ever offered. Because there is none available. Not now. Not in the future. It is "the way" of the working world now.

I am surrounded by this day in and day out. It is a rough unpleasant experience.

Which brings me to the inevitable conclusion that I am burned out on my job. And I'm 3.5 years away from, hopefully, getting out of the great american rat race. So I must find a way to endure this - because I've been in this race for long enough to know it's not going to improve.

All of which reminds me that, despite my ego preferring to believe that I am in control, I am not in control. As I screamed in frustration this past week, I found myself angry with God.

For not protecting me from all this. For not cushioning my fall as I broke. For not being there to ease my burdens.

And then I realized - he's always there. But I haven't acknowledged him in weeks. Not truly. Oh I've said my prayers over meals, my nightly prayer as a fall asleep. But those are by rote...I know they are prayers but they aren't from my heart.

Not the prayer I need to be saying right now - to search out God, to ask him to see into my heart, and to take these burdens from me. He doesn't want me to break.

And therein lies the hardest question any Christian can ask - why does God allow suffering?

I have no easy answer, in truth no one does. Oh we have platitudes to say about how God wants to draw us closer to him so suffering is his way of getting that.

Sounds pretty - harsh - when you put it like that.

We can talk about free will of course. We are all free to make whatever choices we want and deal with the consequences - good or ill.

Again, pretty harsh.

Or we can talk about God's love for us. Which is always there no matter who we are, what we do, where we are, or how we behave.

I prefer to think of that. In the moment this past week when I lashed out at God - I felt horrible right away. I know God has "broad shoulders" and can handle my feeble attempts at getting angry with him.

Because that's all they are - feeble attempts. In the end, I collapsed on my bed, spent & exhausted from a bruising day of constant abuse and manipulation, absent of even the most common of courtesies. And turned to God and simply said - please lord, help me.

And he did. I immediately felt a little lighter, and went back to my at-home office and made the command decision to take Friday off. I'm glad I did. I'm halfway thru an unexpected 3-day weekend and while my perspective is still somewhat clouded by the lingering discomfort of my last few work weeks, I know that God is on my side. Always.

So when I break again, as I inevitably will some weeks or months from now, I pray I can look back on the moment this past Thursday when I finally set all the burdens down and asked God to pick them up for me.

Because it is what he wants to do. Because he loves us and we are never alone.

Finding Your David

We all know the Old Testament story of David & Goliath. Now let's be clear on what was going on here.

The Israelites were in a fight for their territory and lives (when have they NOT been in the midst of this) against an invasion of Philistines. The Philistines were recognized as the most superior warrior force - large men, trained in battle, hardcore and all-in for violence and conquest. As the Prophet Samuel tells us:

A champion named Goliath, who was from Gath, came out of the Philistine camp. His height was six cubits and a span. He had a bronze helmet on his head and wore a coat of scale armor of bronze weighing five thousand shekels; on his legs he wore bronze greaves, and a bronze javelin was slung on his back. His spear shaft was like a weaver’s rod, and its iron point weighed six hundred shekels.

Let's break this down a bit:

• Height - 9' 9"
• Weight of his armor - 125 lbs.
• Iron point of spear - 15 lbs.

We are talking about an overwhelmingly enormous individual in every possible way; a great warrior with battle-hardened experience. Written & archaeological evidence suggest the average height of a Jewish man during these times was 5' 6", with 5' 9" considered tall. 

Goliath is 4 FEET taller than the tallest man around him. David was a young boy, not yet at his full height. A humble shepherd. There is no way David should have defeated such a, literally, massive enemy. One who taunted & teased the Israelites. But David was wildly courageous - he came forward to defeat Goliath when his older brothers and all his neighbors stood by, quaking in fear.

As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him. Reaching into his bag and taking out a stone, he slung it and struck the Philistine on the forehead. The stone sank into his forehead, and he fell facedown on the ground. So David triumphed over the Philistine with a sling and a stone; without a sword in his hand he struck down the Philistine and killed him. David ran and stood over him. He took hold of the Philistine’s sword and drew it from the sheath. After he killed him, he cut off his head with the sword.

Hmmm - I never said David was timid.

Neither should we be timid. For the Prophet Samuel records David's words just before he killed the seemingly unkillable giant in front of him:

You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.

God - has our backs every minute of every day. He doesn't leave us - not ever. We may feel alone and this is because we have turned away from God. 

When life dishes out its many travails, challenges, and outsized opponents we should bring to mind David's words. For God will always be there for us to call upon - a thousand times a day, a hundred times a minute - if that's what it takes to save us from the giants we face. Dig deep to find the courage that God has given to each of us - like David's, enough to slay any giant (physical or metaphorical) that threatens the peace that God wants for us.

After all - David faced down an epic giant and became a King. 

It is no less than what God wants for us - to become Kings in our own time. Strong, courageous, definitely not timid. 

Invitation

Imagine it...

You are Jesus, walking mile after mile after mile, always surrounded by people. Even when you stop at a village to rest and perhaps have a meal - you are hemmed in all sides. Being judged by some, sought after by others. People clamoring for you everywhere.

Always being asked for something - heal this, fix that, show off what you can do for the doubters.

While your ministry is your reason for being, and you love & care about each person you encounter, you crave some solitude from time to time. Even his disciples, who do as he asks of them every day, must feel exhausted from the crowds.

After a long day of preaching, Jesus aches for some quiet. A moment of privacy, perhaps? A chance to duck out of a crowded space and just - be. Even a quiet space with his disciples. Review the day, have a small meal, relax for just a moment.

And just when you, as a disciple, feel like you can't take anymore of this. You love Jesus and you believe in him yet...you just need to sit down. Rest your sandy feet, shake out your cloak.

Jesus issues you an invitation.

The sweetest invitation you will ever receive, from anyone, at any time.

Rest with him. Rest with Jesus.

Who? Me? Am I invited to do this? 

I am a sinful human. I'm not worth the dust on his sandals. I am definitely not worthy of sitting down with Jesus. Sharing a meal...sitting in the quiet with Jesus...?

You've got to be kidding me.

And yet there is the invitation - Jesus is waiting oh-so-patiently for my answer; your answer. He wants nothing else from us. Just take a walk with him, to a place not too far away (for he knows everyone is exhausted), perhaps there will be a bench or stone there to sit on. If not, sitting on the ground will be better than standing for much longer.

So Jesus invites us to sit with him. To retreat from the crowds and join him in solitude. All the while knowing that we will take so much healing from the serenity that can only come from sitting with him.

To be in his presence. Can you imagine it?

Fragility

 

It's been - a week.

I mean that not in a good way. People can be so difficult, so challenging, so disrespectful.

Times have definitely changed. Or I've reached "that age" where I have less tolerance. Or both.

Either way, I have felt quite fragile this week. Breakable. By the end of the week I felt that if one more person treated me with anything other than the utmost courtesy - I would bend in half, snap, and never stand upright again.

And then I remember - God is right there with me. He might let me bend but never break. If I bend, he will hold my hand and support me until I can stand straight and tall.

Straight and tall in him, thru him, and with him.

Because we are never alone when we turn to God.