Your Calling Doesn’t Equal Career

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Ivan Mesa, writing for The Gospel Coalition, wrote a fantastic article titled “3 Things Your Calling Is Not“.

This might sound like an obvious point, but part of my angst has been due to the assumption I had to grab hold of my calling or else it would slip away. I’d be lost, I feared, wasting my life because I hadn’t been decisive or clear-eyed enough to know what God had called me to.

For a long time, the Church preached to men that your calling equaled your career. I personally found this line of thought to be hurtful and confusing. The night before college graduation, I remember breaking down and crying. I had no clue where God was calling me, no clue what a career might look like. Tears running down my face, I prayed that He would make a career path clear to me. That He would provide for me a job/career so that I could make ALL the money and further His Kingdom.

Photo by Marvin Meyer on Unsplash

Looking back, I can see how I took the preaching I had heard for years to heart. How when God didn’t immediately answer my career/job prayer, I took His silence and withdrew into anger, resentment, and bitterness.

Through His grace, God has nudged me over the years–He is a slow and patient teacher to my stubbornness–. Teaching me that He calls me where I am. He calls me at:

  • Church
  • Home
  • And Work

He reminds me that I do not have to set out on a mystical spiritual quest to figure out His will. Thank God for that.

If there is one lesson God has taught me over the years, it is this:

When I focus too much on myself, life becomes depressing. When I step out of myself and focus on/serve others, I find life and joy.

Which stirs up and boils down to this:

Embrace where you are called.

From Across the Net – “The One Life Dream That Makes a Girl Blush”

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I remember my wife whispering words like this to me:

“I know it’s silly,” one girl said. “I know. But…” she hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I really just want to be married. To raise some kids. To take care of a home.” She’s almost embarrassed by the time she’s finished saying the sentiment. As if admitting it has made any impressive strength and wit she had faded away into a pile of proverbial laundry and dishes. As if she’s ashamed for wanting something so “trivial” and simple. “Is that silly? I mean, it’s really all I really want to do.”

I hate that we live in a society where women feel like they can’t dream of just being a momma.

You can read more of Andrea Burke’s article here.

The Great Secret

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I dislike it when I have to keep quiet about something that is exciting. So here it goes, my wife and I are buying our first home!

Now, this isn’t just any old home. No, this is the home that has sheltered my wife’s family for decades. The house has no doubt seen many storms of both the physical and emotional; the house has no doubt been a place of great joy and deep sorrow. As we anxiously await the finalization of appraisal, survey, and other loose ends, my wife and I can only dream about our future in our very own home. To say that we are excited is to try and contain an enormous amount of energy in something that was never meant to store it. We are ready to put our own mark on the house and make it our home.

Memorial Day 2012

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Memorial Day weekend, 2012, is a weekend I will not soon forget.

Saturday, my family and I went to a close friend’s birthday party. As we all stood outside watching our kids run around the playground the unthinkable happened, my son slipped and fell.

The ER: Not where I thought I was going to be on a Saturday night.

As his body hit the ground, I heard a very distinctive “crack”. I knew he had broken a bone. Big W screamed and cried for quite sometime. My wife and I didn’t know what to do. We couldn’t tell whether he was just scared from falling or if he was seriously hurt. Thankfully, our God-given parenting abilities kicked in, and we soon found ourselves at the ER. 10 minutes later, we were admitted into a room.

Over the next few hours x-rays were taken, TV was watched, and my little boy remained resolute and strong. I am so proud of him! Turns out he fractured his tibia after falling 4-5 feet off of some domed monkey bars. He’ll be in a splint (not a cast) for the next six weeks. Good times and a very memorable Memorial Day weekend. I can’t wait to see the bill!