One of the most difficult parts of
being a person of faith has been discerning the will of God . . . understanding
God’s will for my life. I firmly believe
that God created me for a purpose . . . for a reason. That I am unique in what it is that God wants
from me . . . just as I believe that God created each of us for a certain
purpose. And, I believe that God calls
me to be who God created me to be . . . in that way, I reach perfection. That is the journey of faith . . . to be all
that God created me to be. It just would
have been nice if God gave me a book of instructions to follow in getting
there.
Yeah, I know . . . the Bible is that
instruction book, but I think you know what I mean . . . I wanted the specifics
. . . the step-by-step details: after all, I am human and desire the easiest
path. But, no . . . God did not make it
that easy. Instead God has decided that
the it would be best if I—we—learned the fine art of discernment. The problem with discernment is that it is not
easy . . . it is never, ever, easy. Even
at my age, I have not yet mastered the art of discernment.
Mythologist Joseph Campbell stated
that if an individual found his or her bliss that there was his or her
purpose. What he did not say, or maybe
he did and I just wasn’t listening, was that sometimes that purpose is not what
the individual wants to do. That he or
she struggles against that purpose despite all the signs pointing to a perfect
match. That he or she does not see him
or herself in that role . . .
How does one respond to the voice of
God when one is not sure that he or she wants to listen? As we enter into Holy Week we are reminded
that Jesus struggled with God’s will . . . he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane
and finally declared, “Not my will, but thy will be done.” Peter, too, struggled with his love and
allegiance to Jesus, and in the end, denied Jesus three times. Responding to God’s will is not always a neat
and clean process . . . nor is it quick.
Peter later redeemed himself . . . but not before realizing what he had
done. I think that most of us are
somewhere between the two . . . I know that I am.
It has been said that hindsight is
20/20. I would agree. Looking back over my life I have determined .
. . no, discerned . . . that there is a fairly clear path that God has called
me to trudge down. The ministry is a
part of that path. From a young age,
when I had to write an essay about what I wanted to be when I grew up, ministry
was on the list. I had to pick three
occupations or careers . . . I chose the military, teaching, and not being able
to think of anything else, I chose ministry.
No, I was not drinking in the fifth grade! It was a whim to get the assignment
done. Several decades later, I am about
to celebrate my 30th anniversary of being ordained into the
ministry. More than 50 percent of my
life has been as a minister . . . I am probably where God wanted me. Yeah, the whim became the call.
The other call upon my life is one
that I have tried to ignore . . . that is in the area of disabilities. Having grown up in a family with siblings
with disabilities and witnessing the crap they endured . . . our family endured
. . . the second class (if that) they were placed in . . . I was determined not
to fall into that trap. Then I had
children with disabilities . . . went through the same crap . . . watching them
be thrown into a lower class than everyone else . . . I was even more
determined not to hop into the fray.
Yet, surprisingly my voice is strongest in this area despite my efforts
to not jump into the fray. Instead of
wholeheartedly embracing this call upon my life, for the most part, I stand
back and remain silent.
Richard Bach used the term “reluctant
messiahs” in his book Illusions: The
Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah.
Basically he was referring to the fact that often people do know and
understand their purpose in life . . . God’s call upon their life . . . but
chose to either ignore it or to step into it with reluctance. To use my father’s phrase, to do it half ass
. . . with, reluctance. I understand
that . . . I understand that because I dabble in the second half of God’s call
upon my life . . . to be an advocate for those who are disabled. More often than not, I stand in silence.
It is only with reluctance that I step
into the fray . . . only when I am dragged into the discussion . . . into the
fight. It is only when it affects
someone I love, someone I care about, that I get involved. Otherwise, I remain silent. Silence does not get the job done. Silence does not solve the problem. To remain silent is to ignore the voice of
God . . . it is to refuse God’s will . . . it is to refuse to be whole and
holy. That is the sucky part of
discernment. To know God’s will and to
refuse to participate. The sounds of
silence are deafening . . . they kill.
Ministry is a part of God’s will for
my life . . . I do it well enough. But,
as I have said for many, many years, I am not sure the ministry I do is the
ministry that God desires me to be involved in.
That ministry, in my mind, involves working and advocating with those
who have disabilities and their families.
As much as many will doubt me, I know that this is a population that is
overlooked, ignored, and on the brink of being eliminated . . . even within the
church where all are supposed to be welcomed.
I hear God knocking on the door, but it is only with reluctance that I
even crack it open when I do open it.
Shame on me.
In Nikkos Kazantzakis’ book, The Last Temptation of Christ, it begins
with Jesus running from an unknown stalker.
Jesus can hear the footsteps behind him.
Though he acts as if he does not know who the stalker is, he does—it is
God. Jesus tries to run, but he cannot
escape. In the end, he gives in to God’s
will . . . the journey and ministry begin.
The bottom line is that we can run, but we can never escape God’s will .
. . God’s purpose for us. That is
another part of the suckiness of discernment.
So, I stand in the sounds of silence .
. . the day will come when I can run no longer . . . then God’s will will be
done.
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