The Calling

The pastor at my church, Pastor Jeff, was truly called to his post; it wasn't happenstance or merely luck, nor an alternative he chose to something far more lucrative.  His notes, his sermons and his booming laugh all attest to his joy at serving his congregation and his Lord.

Do you know what your calling is?  I didn't until a couple of years ago.  It's possible that I have been called many times in my life, as you have--to be a child, a parent. We all are put on earth for a purpose.  It was, however, when I realized it was God speaking to me that my life changed.  Oh, I am only a human with human desires and human imperfections by the multitudes. Once I recognized and accepted my gifts and my calling, that area of my life became, if not perfect, then joyous.

We can make guesses at God's will.  We can ask for signs and portents and believe that  He has given His approval when indeed it is at best ourselves, at worst the devil on our shoulders.  Is our talent a gift? Or is it acquired by our free will?  Can it be used for the betterment of our extended world?  Is it our passion?  Is it His will?  Is it strictly for profit? (Whoa! nothing wrong with profit! I am a capitalist to the core!) Is it useful to the spirit?

I know of a rich man who built a thriving business.  When it was destroyed by fire, his customers collected money to help him rebuild. He opted to give the money to his out-of-work employees.  Yes, he is rebuilding--not just the business but the good will.  Is the business his calling? I believe it is.

I know a man who left a lucrative career to become  a minister.  His wife hated the idea and eventually left him.  His congregation was at odds with itself.  His sermons were technically correct, but without conviction.  He was not a gracious guest in one's home.  He thought ministry was his calling, but his place would have been better served as a director or an assistant where his technical background would have been useful. Far more people left his church than were drawn to it.  I'm certain the Lord has a plan for him; it just wasn't ministry.

When God speaks, He does it with authority--be it a whisper or a cacophony of angelic choir.  He speaks only truth.  If we listen, we can hear the direction He is sending us.  It will feel right; there will be no doubt.  We will see the indescribable light of satisfaction and feel the passion of knowing it is from Him.

Callings are easy to spot in another.  The passion with which an artisan shows his work, the compassion of a gifted nurse or the genius of a teacher, the pride of a baker displaying his wares--you can tell who is called and who is earning a paycheck and nothing more.  We recognize it in the doctor who crams in the patients and hurries them out, or the attorney who collects a fee but doesn't try his best.  We all know parents who should have been childless and pet owners who should have pet rocks instead of living creatures.

The differences between a want-to-be-there and a have-to-be-there in any field is palpable. A calling is more than ability to do the project.  It is a place of passion and purpose that gives something to others, be it laughter or service, and glory to God.

I have learned, during my journey to become whole, what makes me crazy and what I love.  Some things, like housework, I have to do whether or not I want to.  Other things, like dancing to live music and sipping gin and tonic, I had forgotten that I love.  Some things, like weeds, I barely tolerate.  Others, like being with childhood friends, I cherish.  I was blessed with the opportunity to have them back in my life.

The  job I am taking is a step I needed to take.  It isn't enough hours, but I will get a part-time job to take care of that part.  It's got a product line different from what I have done for decades; I see it as a challenge.  It came to me unbidden at  time when I needed change.  I didn't even interview for it.  It was meant to be.  I relish the chance to begin again, but is this a calling?  No, just work.

My calling is my ability to speak without fear, and to write those things I feel.  When I put pen to paper, or fingertips to keyboard, I pray for the words that will touch one person, one time, and make a difference in one life.  Maybe I will help someone to know God, or make them laugh. Maybe one person will see that I am talking directly to him or to her  and hear what I have left unsaid.  As I prepare to put my essays into book form, I recognize my gifts as God-given and pray that I can use them wisely.  My words are my calling.

So, why did God wait so long to call me? Maybe I wasn't ready to hear Him.  Maybe I was called to do other things first, like to be a wife, mother, grandmother--or to learn who I am inside.  Maybe it was my stubborn human-ness that kept me from paying attention.  Today is different.

He has called me.  Lord, I have heard You!