I want to arrive.
One of my hardest experiences in seminary was that I exposed to so much wisdom and insight, but I didn't have a box to put any of it
in. I hadn't experienced life or ministry in such a way that I could relate. But I continued on, in the hope that one day I too would have a calling.
Nearly three years later, I'm still waiting. Compared to the 40 years the people of God wandered in the wilderness, my journey is nothing. But I'm so tired of the repetition. I just want to arrive. I want to get there.
The worse part is that I don't even know what there is. I have a hunch (or maybe it's just a hope). My hunch is that living out your calling is living in the sweet spot--in that place where what you do is simultaneously the most challenging and easiest thing you've ever done--the perfect mix of blood, sweat, and tears--because you are doing what you were made for.
I want to do the things I was made to do. I want to feel alive. I want to act. I want to write. I want to teach. I want to think deeply and challenge the status quo. I want to face life with someone. I just want to get there. I want to arrive.
But at the end of the day, my theology has to trump my experience.
My experience tells me my calling is elusive; my theology tells me my calling is to glorify God. To be his image. To know him.I've always said I don't know what I think until I write. I guess John Bunyan had it right all along. This pilgrim is still on the journey.
My experience tells me I'm not there yet; my theology tells me if I've arrived, I'm dead.
My experience tells me I've been forgotten; my theology tells me I'm the apple of God's eye.