Call Me Maybe?

I've gone through a lot of career aspirations in my life.

For a while, I wanted to be Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. But then I found out that me talking to myself was not quite as interesting as two spunky blonde twins. Moved on.

During the era of the Dream Team in the 1996 Atlanta Olympics I wanted to be a professional gymnast. Then, I was only able to master the log roll, and discovered that fried chicken is not on the daily diet of a gold medal winner. Moved on.

I went through an entrepreneurial phase and opened a neighbor lemonade stand. I somehow managed to forgot we only had 6 neighbors. I also managed to forget to put the sugar in the lemonade. Moved on.

I attempted to be the next JK Rowling and write the next American Novel. Turns out that you don't get much social interaction with anyone but characters you have created- and what was on Maury that day was much more interesting. Moved on.

I tried to convince my dad to let me be the receptionist in his office and answer all of the phones. Those pesky child labor laws got in the way. Moved on.

I thought the Broadway stage was my calling. Turns out overweight, clumsy girls with no dance ability is not at the top of the "to cast" list. Moved on.

I even tried my hand at being a vagabond, packing up my bags and living off of the land, just me and the open road. I made it as far as my garage and when I finished the bag of microwave popcorn I brought along, I made the short trip back to civilization. Moved on.

I have never really known what I wanted to do.

I've never really known what I'm supposed to do.

I've never really been called to do anything in particular.

And I do believe, with all of my being, that some people are called to a certain mission field. And some people are uniquely created for that job that only they alone can do.

But what happens for the rest of us? The ones that are still staring at our phone, waiting for that call from the Big Man Upstairs, explaining exactly what we're supposed to do with our lives.

As I'm nearing the end of my graduate school program, I've been thinking a lot about my job opportunities.

And I've been stressing about my job opportunities.

And I've been worrying that somehow I missed that day in Sunday School a long time ago, describing how we are interpret our calling from the Lord.

Why haven't I been called for anything?

Does God not have a cool enough plan for me? Is that why I lack a deep passion, a burning desire, for one particular mission field?

To be honest, I was starting to feel like that girl, sitting alone on homecoming night because no one bothered to ask her to the dance.

And then, tonight, I decided to go off course in my devotional calendar and read Romans 1.

And the Lord spoke directly to my heart.

It states very clearly in the very first verse that Paul was called to be a servant, called to be an apostle, called to be set apart.

Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart for the gospel of God

And honestly, as I was reading this chapter, the first thing that popped into my head was

"Great, another person with another calling".

But this attitude would only be around until verse 6  when I read-

And you also are among those Gentiles who are called to belong to Jesus

 Christ.To all in Rome who are loved by God and called to be his holy people:

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.

I. am. called.

I have been called.

I was called the moment that I accepted Jesus Christ into my heart when I was 8 years old, sitting underneath a table at Vacation Bible School.

I am called to belong to Jesus.

I am called to be part of His holy people.

And I may one day figure out my calling in the career field.

I may figure out what I finally want to be.

I may be called to another country.

Or,I may never have that sort of calling.

But if you are a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ, you were already called.

You were already claimed.

And it doesn't matter if you are a CEO of a national organization or the janitor of the local McDonalds.

That calling doesn't go away.

And I for one, find great hope in that.

Secrets Secrets Are No Fun

I've never been very good at keeping my own secrets.

My friends secrets?  I can take with me to the grave.

Surprises? My lips are sealed tight.

But when it comes to intimate details about my own life, I tend to blab to anyone that will listen.

It all started off when I was in second grade, and I was banned by my mother from going to the guidance counselor's office because I'd made too many visits during allotted class time. She had puppets, and she let me talk as much as I wanted.

I was always the first to confess who I had a crush on at middle school sleepovers, usually after the sugar high wore off . We would be crowding around the desktop in the house, waiting for the internet to dial up so we could IM with the "cutest boy in school" and I would just, spill my guts.

I was that girl that filled out the surveys on myspace, and wrote "deep, soul searching" blog posts that usually revolved around relationships that I hadn't experienced quite yet. (For purposes of being transparent, here's is the link to my myspace that I embarrassingly found).

If you ask, I'm usually willing to share. No part of my life is extremely off limits. I'm willing to talk about my small successes, big defeats, and embarrassing moments with anyone willing to listen.

But somehow, in my prayer life, and in my relationship with God, I am extremely picky in the things that I pray about.

Relationships? Check.

Career choices? Check.

Major heartbreaks? Check.

Deepest desires of my heart? Check.

Small, everyday things that I would get advice about from every stranger I passed on the street?...Not so much.

God desires us to talk to Him about the big things. He wants to know the deepest desires of our hearts, help us make tough decisions, and lead us to a path that is ultimately pleasing to Him.

But he also wants us to talk to him about the little things too.

The girl that annoyed you in class today.

The fact that you feel fat and not so pretty sometimes.

Or to overanalyze the text message that came from the cute guy down the hall.

All the kind of things that you would want to tell your best friend, or your sister, or your Dad.

Your Abba.

Your Heavenly Father.

God desires that kind of relationship with us. A relationship that consists of coming to Him with the good,

the bad,

the petty,

the funny,

the embarrassing,

and everything in between.

And as I read this prayer from David tonight, I was ever grateful that I had a God that even cares enough that he would want me to pour my heart out to him, no matter the situation.

Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him,for God is our refuge.