In February, I went to California with several dozen young
adult missionaries from various other service programs around the country. We were participating in a retreat that was designed
to give us some time away from the stress of the everyday to discern God’s
calling on our lives. There was a small
part of me that wondered why I even agreed to go, considering that at that
moment, I had the rest of my near-future mapped out for myself. I had decided that God was calling me to work
in food justice. I was planning on
heading to culinary school after my service term was over, then getting my
M.Div. so I could help feed hungry people.
It sounded like a great plan to me.
Until I went to California.
I wasn’t actually feeling called to go to culinary school, or seminary, or really anything for that matter. And for a while, that made me angry with God. I felt abandoned. Deep down, I think I also felt entitled. I felt as though God owed me some great calling to ministry. Almost as though following God this far was just a down payment, and I was waiting for the payoff that came with my good behavior.
So, since God was obviously not going to tell me what I was
supposed to do, I started trying to manufacture my own calling out of things I
enjoyed doing. I like to cook? What’s a way I
can make that into a calling from God?
Food justice? That sounds
good. I guess I’m called to work in food
justice. Problem solved.
Except, the main issue with that, is that when you make
decisions on God’s behalf, they’re very rarely the right decision. I almost spent several years and hundreds of
thousands of dollars to become certified to do something I wouldn’t be happy
doing. Why? Because I’m impatient.
I sought out some one-on-one time with one of the leaders of
the retreat on the third day I was there.
The question I had for him was one that embarrassed me; “I did the
opposite of what most of these people did.
I came here with a clear calling in my head, and I feel like I’m leaving
without any direction at all. What do I
do?”
He asked me questions about where I wanted to be. This made me uncomfortable, because I knew
the answer, but I figured that wasn’t where God was calling me. It was just where I wanted to be. The easy path. But he told me two things that I think are so
important:
1. God’s timing is not our timing.
In the book of Luke, we meet Simeon, who was told he would
not die until he had seen the Messiah.
Some historians in the Eastern Orthodox Church believe that Simeon was
over two hundred years old when this finally happened. Simeon, in this case, was called to
wait. A long time. And I’m sure there were plenty of times when
he doubted he would ever see Christ, but God followed through with that
promise.
2. It doesn’t have to be difficult or scary for it to be what
God wants from you.
Sometimes I think we feel like we have to sacrifice what we believe
will make us happy in order to follow God.
Like we need to be miserable or struggling in order for the work to
matter. But while we may sometimes be
called to, “Leave everything and follow,” sometimes we’re called to stay put
and do good work where we are. God’s
call is different for everyone.
So I am answering the call to wait. I’m going home to Upstate New York, and I’ll
be living with my older sister and her beautiful family. I’ll be in the Saratoga Springs area, and I’m
currently looking for a job if anyone hears of anything. Mostly, I’m just excited to take a break from
living such a transient life. I’m
looking forward to not wondering where I’m moving to in a few months, which has
been almost a constant question for me since I was seventeen. I’m excited to
read books and cook and play with my nieces.
I’m excited to be a couple hours’ drive from the rest of my family. I’m also excited to make plans for my
future. As the retreat leader in
California told me, waiting is not a passive thing. There is a lot of work in waiting. There’s a chance to learn and to grow and to
prepare so that when you’re called to move, you’ll be ready.
For those of you who are wondering where I’ll end up, that
is an excellent question, and one that I still struggle with. Looking back both at the journaling I did at
the retreat, and at my own journey up to this point, one of the major themes
that keeps emerging for me is mental health. In
college, I started out as an art major, but I took so many psychology classes
that I accidentally minored in it and ended up changing my degree to reflect
this. I enjoyed my art classes, for the
most part, but psychology was where I really flourished. I loved learning about how the mind
works. I love helping people. I love listening and I’ve been told I give
good advice and that people feel like they can trust me. Maybe eventually I’ll go back to school to be
a therapist. It’s the one idea I can’t
get out of my head. For now though, I’m
looking forward to getting a job, killing off some of my student loans and
reconnecting with friends and family in New York.
