The Call

I've been wrestling with some kind of "call" by God to "ministry." I don't know what that means. It waxes and wanes, but the call has been there for a few months now.

Right now, I'm a bit stressed at work. If I could just be a lawyer and focus on the actual substance of my job I might feel better. But I find myself working the phones and trying -- with staff help -- to line up a bunch of witnesses for a trial. For one reason or another, I can't seem to get to the point of actually working on the trial stuff itself.

At the moment, the last thing I want to do is work or think of work. But it's all consuming. When work gets like this, sometimes I run to God. Sometimes I run away from him. Now I feel like I want to run away from work, into the safe arms of some sort of work that has actual meaning and purpose.

This is a lousy way to look at work, especially for a Presbyterian. We, after all, helped make the so-called Protestant Work Ethic what it is. Work, for work's sake, has value in that worldview. Now, though, I struggle to see value beyond my paycheck. I only see value in service to others on a spiritual level. The stress, though, puts me in a position of not seeing value in the work that I am given to do.

Within a week, I'll get a short reprieve and life will be good again...

Nine

I can't believe it! My little girl is 9! Well, she'll be 9 in two days.

Parents will understand the paradox that the years seem to have flown by, yet, it seems like an eternity since she was a baby. Without photographs or video -- luckily we have a lot of both -- I would hardly remember what she sounded like and looked like when she was small.

The so-called "tween" years are a lot of fun. I love watching her grow. I'm convinced that my daughter, somehow, is my purpose, my raison d'être. As she becomes more mature, more of a complete (for lack of a better term) person, I see my destiny, in a sense, unfolding. It's really cool . . . and kind of scary. I just hope that I've done the right things so far and will continue to shephard her through this crazy life until she is ready to start her own flock.

I love her so much! She's my baby girl! I can't wait to tell her this in the morning.

Happy Birthday, Munkins. You're the best thing -- or at least tied for first with your mom -- that ever happened to your old man.

"I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure."

These are words uttered by Eric Liddell, "The Flying Scotsman," in Chariots of Fire. Mr. Liddell was a devout Christian and an Olympic gold medalist. He was incredibly gifted but put his faith in God before his own personal goals and desires. He surrendered his chance at a gold medal in his strongest event because he wouldn't run on "the Lord's day."

Our family watched Chariots of Fire last night (my third time seeing it) and it was as if those words grabbed hold of me and shook me.

My wife and I -- more her than me -- have lately been trying to feel God, to experience Him on more than an intellectual or even doctrinal level. We have both been seeking heart knowledge moreso than head knowledge. I've not wanted anything mystical or supernatural necessarily. I just want to feel God in the details of my life.

My wife has been reading lots of great stuff. Just in the last few days, we've talked about or read about worshipping God just in the doing of our daily activities.

She read and related to me something by Parker J. Palmer and since I heard it, I've been asking God to help me give Him my work; every letter I type, every phone call I take, every conversation I have. Those mundane things are our lives. I've been all but begging God to show me how those things have meaning, to show me how those things can even be worship.

I am not there. Sitting through a conference this morning, I wanted to gouge my eyes out in frustration. Nothing of that could I see as having any significance. Hopefully someday I'll be able to replace the frustration and boredom with joy.

Eric Liddell's words shook me because he voiced what I hope to someday feel: God's pleasure. He felt his reason for being. He could feel God's love.

Someday perhaps...