If a mother cleans a bathroom & there's no one around to see it - does it matter...: MY STORY OF CALLING
As I sit to write this piece - I am on fire. There's probably a more productive or respectable avenue for these feelings of frustration - oh who am I kidding - this rage, but none that would allow me to speak my piece without yelling. And *bonus* this page comes with that lovely little "delete" button that I've used on more than one occasion. So here I write...
I started listening to a book this morning. A book that, for all intents and purposes, I wholeheartedly agree with. But as I began to listen a little deeper a few embers lit in my soul and a fire began to brew - a fire that, until today, had largely been smoldered. You see the premise of this book is the Christian calling. Now, I cannot speak to the entirety of the book as I've only listened to the first 3 chapters. But when a book has me literally fired-up at the start... well, let's just say I know from experience to let it out as it comes.
The subject of calling has been a touchy one for me. I have always had strong and rather specific ideas of what mine "should be". As a new believer I dreamed of doing "big things" for the Lord as a single missionary to foreign lands. I longed to serve the "least of these" in countries where poverty and oppression made it difficult to receive an education. I was in college on my way to a degree in education when I met and, eventually, married my husband. I discarded the dream of single-missionary life for a dream of "woman in the workforce" who mentored to young woman. I still longed for the missions field though maybe not to such foreign - but equally important - lands. Again, I dreamed of doing those "big things" for God. After becoming a mother I still dreamed of the workforce and of missions, though both were becoming less and less "likely". And if I'm being honest, the Lord continued to guide me in directions so counter to my dreams that I feared he may have forgotten about my passion! Or that, maybe, He had forgotten to call me to anything. But, as it became clearer that He had called me and that I was exactly where he wanted me to be, I became discontent.
Because, you see, I despised my calling.
For the majority of my Christian walk I had held the belief that there were some who were worth serving and others who were not. That it was respectable to offer my talents and resources to serve those in need, but somehow cowardly and selfish to serve those with means and privilege. So when it became clear that my "calling", for this season, would be to serve those I felt possibly "unworthy" - I felt ashamed. I was further confounded when I realized that this service would go largely unnoticed by the world. My dreams of doing big things in the Lord's name now replaced with cleaning toilets and cooking meals; picking-up the same toys literally a dozen times a day. I watched as many around me seemed to flourish in their calling. Some to overseas missions. Others to serve in the inner city. All seemingly at peace with where the Lord had placed them. And I remember, at the start of this season, feeling as though the Lord were asking me what I'd be willing to do for him. I remember thinking that I'd be willing to do just about every big and important thing one could do - in the name of Jesus. But was challenged by this question:
"Would I be willing to be invisible - for the Lord?"
I was surprised by my gut reaction to the question. Heart-sick is one way to describe it. Utter despair is probably closer. Concerned that this could be an actual calling I began to place conditions on my obedience. I thought, I can be obedient as long as someone notices. I could serve the Lord in this way, as long as everyone else understood I was actually willing to do the hard, important things. And, of course, as long as they thought me noble...
You see, part of this largely invisible calling is serving my husband and my children. Both have "needs" but are not what one would call "in-need". I have also served my church. Again, not what many would call "needy" as we attend a large, mostly affluent, suburban church. But what I have learned during these years is that I am exactly where my Lord desires for me to be. My children and husband may not be like those in need around the world but there is still value in serving them. My church may be affluent and suburban but they are still loved and cherished by God.
In my calling to home, I have learned of selfless love through lovingly serving my, at times, thankless children. I have learned of long suffering through nursing a chronically ill child. I have learned about self-sacrifice in giving of my time and energy - day in and day out - as we have been called to educate our children at home. At church I have learned about loving those that are, at times, difficult for me to love. I have also learned about asking for forgiveness when I have offended and about extending grace to those who offend me.
My calling may not be glamorous or even recognized as a true calling by some. And it might appear that I am not edifying the church or obeying the Lord's command to actively promote justice and mercy in a largely hurting world. I understand the temptation to dismiss a "calling" like mine as too "safe" or centered on self. And I won't deny that in many cases there are those who are reluctant to put their faith into action when it comes to things that make them uncomfortable. But I would caution against making the assumption that our human perception has the power to discern whether one is living into their God-given calling or not. For our God has uniquely equipped each one of us and I suspect his calling is equally as unique. We are each to minister to this broken world in the time and place God has ordained. And incidentally, if you're questioning your calling or feel as though others might be questioning it, I would encourage you by saying this - with complete confidence:
You will never be out of the will of God if you are seeking his will.
My God called me to a life that is largely outside of my comfort zone and, more importantly to me, outside of what I thought I was made to do. What I am learning through these hours, days, weeks, months and years of being at home is that sometimes the most significant work that God wants to do through me He first needs to do in me. When my God called me to, what often feels like invisibility, I was disheartened and ashamed. I now rest in the assurance that He has a purpose for my life, most days. I do not know what these years are training me for or where the Lord will take me in the next "season". I only know that these years, at home, have been fruitful - if only visible inside these walls - and that the God I serve is good, friends.
Loving and praying for you all, today!
I started listening to a book this morning. A book that, for all intents and purposes, I wholeheartedly agree with. But as I began to listen a little deeper a few embers lit in my soul and a fire began to brew - a fire that, until today, had largely been smoldered. You see the premise of this book is the Christian calling. Now, I cannot speak to the entirety of the book as I've only listened to the first 3 chapters. But when a book has me literally fired-up at the start... well, let's just say I know from experience to let it out as it comes.
The subject of calling has been a touchy one for me. I have always had strong and rather specific ideas of what mine "should be". As a new believer I dreamed of doing "big things" for the Lord as a single missionary to foreign lands. I longed to serve the "least of these" in countries where poverty and oppression made it difficult to receive an education. I was in college on my way to a degree in education when I met and, eventually, married my husband. I discarded the dream of single-missionary life for a dream of "woman in the workforce" who mentored to young woman. I still longed for the missions field though maybe not to such foreign - but equally important - lands. Again, I dreamed of doing those "big things" for God. After becoming a mother I still dreamed of the workforce and of missions, though both were becoming less and less "likely". And if I'm being honest, the Lord continued to guide me in directions so counter to my dreams that I feared he may have forgotten about my passion! Or that, maybe, He had forgotten to call me to anything. But, as it became clearer that He had called me and that I was exactly where he wanted me to be, I became discontent.
Because, you see, I despised my calling.
For the majority of my Christian walk I had held the belief that there were some who were worth serving and others who were not. That it was respectable to offer my talents and resources to serve those in need, but somehow cowardly and selfish to serve those with means and privilege. So when it became clear that my "calling", for this season, would be to serve those I felt possibly "unworthy" - I felt ashamed. I was further confounded when I realized that this service would go largely unnoticed by the world. My dreams of doing big things in the Lord's name now replaced with cleaning toilets and cooking meals; picking-up the same toys literally a dozen times a day. I watched as many around me seemed to flourish in their calling. Some to overseas missions. Others to serve in the inner city. All seemingly at peace with where the Lord had placed them. And I remember, at the start of this season, feeling as though the Lord were asking me what I'd be willing to do for him. I remember thinking that I'd be willing to do just about every big and important thing one could do - in the name of Jesus. But was challenged by this question:
"Would I be willing to be invisible - for the Lord?"
I was surprised by my gut reaction to the question. Heart-sick is one way to describe it. Utter despair is probably closer. Concerned that this could be an actual calling I began to place conditions on my obedience. I thought, I can be obedient as long as someone notices. I could serve the Lord in this way, as long as everyone else understood I was actually willing to do the hard, important things. And, of course, as long as they thought me noble...
You see, part of this largely invisible calling is serving my husband and my children. Both have "needs" but are not what one would call "in-need". I have also served my church. Again, not what many would call "needy" as we attend a large, mostly affluent, suburban church. But what I have learned during these years is that I am exactly where my Lord desires for me to be. My children and husband may not be like those in need around the world but there is still value in serving them. My church may be affluent and suburban but they are still loved and cherished by God.
In my calling to home, I have learned of selfless love through lovingly serving my, at times, thankless children. I have learned of long suffering through nursing a chronically ill child. I have learned about self-sacrifice in giving of my time and energy - day in and day out - as we have been called to educate our children at home. At church I have learned about loving those that are, at times, difficult for me to love. I have also learned about asking for forgiveness when I have offended and about extending grace to those who offend me.
My calling may not be glamorous or even recognized as a true calling by some. And it might appear that I am not edifying the church or obeying the Lord's command to actively promote justice and mercy in a largely hurting world. I understand the temptation to dismiss a "calling" like mine as too "safe" or centered on self. And I won't deny that in many cases there are those who are reluctant to put their faith into action when it comes to things that make them uncomfortable. But I would caution against making the assumption that our human perception has the power to discern whether one is living into their God-given calling or not. For our God has uniquely equipped each one of us and I suspect his calling is equally as unique. We are each to minister to this broken world in the time and place God has ordained. And incidentally, if you're questioning your calling or feel as though others might be questioning it, I would encourage you by saying this - with complete confidence:
You will never be out of the will of God if you are seeking his will.
My God called me to a life that is largely outside of my comfort zone and, more importantly to me, outside of what I thought I was made to do. What I am learning through these hours, days, weeks, months and years of being at home is that sometimes the most significant work that God wants to do through me He first needs to do in me. When my God called me to, what often feels like invisibility, I was disheartened and ashamed. I now rest in the assurance that He has a purpose for my life, most days. I do not know what these years are training me for or where the Lord will take me in the next "season". I only know that these years, at home, have been fruitful - if only visible inside these walls - and that the God I serve is good, friends.
You have searched me, Lord, and you know me You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand —when I awake, I am still with you. Psalm 139:1-18
Loving and praying for you all, today!
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