Romancing Our Call
Kate Bowler wrote in the afterward of the book Accidental Pastor, "We devote ourselves to the grand cause of joining God in bringing heaven to earth but mostly we find ourselves doing paper work and trying to find better parking. We want to feel called but we are asked to simply act like it."
We humans are stuck with the incredible contradiction between our high hopes for deep meaning and trapped in the mundane moments of everyday life. I think it's time to acknowledge this and stop trying to wriggle out of the contradiction. It is a noble thing to be a faithful person who keeps trying to believe that God was in the midst of all that.
The weather turned warm for a millisecond last weekend and I took my two grandchildren to the park to meet up with our NSC walking buddies - a new tradition since the pandemic. I knew I could not ask two toddlers to keep up with our crowd but I did want to show up for the party. They headed off on their walk, the kids and I did what we do - Meme toting three backpacks while the two kids alternately ran like the wind and got stuck picking up "treasures" to take to their parental units as signs of their undying love. After our picnic and further exploration it was time to head back to the bathrooms (oh potty training). This took almost as much time as the picnic and "mission" - which the kids call any activity they do with me.
They discussed how to not make the potty flush but once (too loud!); they debated paper towels versus air machine to dry their hands (too loud! but oops no paper towels!). They commented on who had what body part. Finally. We were ready to leave. Just outside the bathroom these two managed to find a dusty, dirty, grassless patch. In unison they yelled, "Bear claws!" and bent down and raked their damp to almost wet hands (too loud so only one burst of hot air for hand drying!) in the dirt. Oh boy. There is absolutely nothing romantic about being a Meme on a solo mission with two little kids prone to whims of fancy.
And yet, it is my call and I love it. I love it because I was once a mommy wrangling three kids prone to whims of fancy of their own. I've learned that the sacred shows up in weird places, dirty and inconvenient times when you are tired and bedraggled and you have to REMEMBER your call because your body is crying for a nap.
Don't miss your call while you seek some whimsical fantasy about what you think calling should look or feel like. It's loud and dirty and grimy and sometimes has claws. But it is also beautiful and sweet and perfect and would be an endless sorrow to miss.
