I feel like something’s going to happen soon. In my life. I’ve just about nailed the final nail into the coffin of my dream of higher education, which was always my backup plan, to be broken in case of emergency. It never seriously occurred to me that all my applications would be denied, but now that it’s happened I feel like I can finally lay it down.
In a bizarre twist (or at least bizarre in any sense other than an omniscient, omnipotent God guiding my life), I had two separate confirmations of this feeling. My uncle came and worked on the basement of my house with me this week, the same day my top two choices rejected me. We had a long lunch and discussed the crossroads of life at which we both find ourselves, and he regaled me with tales of his own discovery of the passion of his life. Not God; that is his life, not his passion. His passion for Christian education came out of left field, and only after he had been rejected similarly from his ambitions, holy though he thought them to be. But it happened during his twenty-ninth year, the same age I am.
On Sunday, the pastor’s wife gave the message and talked about a crossroads in her life when she finally reached the point where she could say honestly, “Not my will but Yours be done” to the Father. It changed the trajectory of her life, and allowed God to give her the passion that would drive her forward into deeper walks with Him. She was around thirty years old.
This is significant because I’ve always struggled with my passion. I said the other day to a friend of mine who works as a software developer that I envied his knowledge of what he was, who he was. That is, what his job, his career, his vocation on earth is. Because that’s part of what defines us. We certainly must look first to our walk with the Lord for our sense of identity, but practically speaking we all must do something. And those who know what they were meant to do gain in that knowledge a sense of who they are. My uncle claimed to be a Christian school administrator: “I’m a leader! That’s who I am!” His gifts and talents are tied into his identity, and when God runs the show, He can harmonize everything into a beautiful symphony through which He can impact this world.
That’s what this is all about. I don’t know who I am. In relation to this world, that is. I know I’m God’s son, His bondslave, His precious one. The desire of His heart, as wonderfully frightening as that is. But who I am on earth, what I was meant for…I’m still working on that. I don’t know. And once you know that, once that surety has rooted itself in your heart, you can pursue that wholeheartedly.
Wholeheartedly. It’s a word thrown around without much meditation. To do something, to be something with your whole heart. That’s what appeals to me about characters like William Wallace in Braveheart. Nothing, but nothing was more important that his mission: to free Scotland from the evil English. Freedom from tyranny is an admirable goal, and the things humans can accomplish when they pursue something wholeheartedly can be remarkable. But imagine how much greater if our human nature was in tune with God’s will! The possibilities are literally endless, and we as humans can participate in God’s will while doing something that pops us out of bed each morning wildly enthusiastic about the day.
It must begin with God, however. As Brenda said, I must come to the place where I let go and let God, give up and give in. And once the last school rejects me, that’s where I’m at. I looked in the mirror and said, “Well, God, I’m out of ideas.” Which was mostly true; I have ideas but they are pipe dreams, like being a professional golfer. But ideas, plans that I can produce on my own? Nope. I’ve failed at most things I’ve done in my life, and mostly because I’ve done them, not Him.
So God, help me. I’m ready to give up and give in. I’ve been saying this for a while now, ever since I discovered Ian Thomas’ sermons, but this affair with the doctorate programs was kind of my final crutch, and it’s been kicked away. I’m ready. I pray.
