Callings. Strange things really. So hard to catch and yet so easy to run away from.
As you probably can tell by now, I have a passion for writing. One of my first memories involves happily entertaining myself at the age of five by writing an entire story on my mother’s bright pink Post-It notes. To be honest, not much has changed since then. As I grew up, I said I would be a writer someday. And then someday came. I grew up. And I wanted money. Not just pocket change… but an income. So, I put writing on the back burner more or less without realizing it and pursued other jobs. I didn’t give up on words – I’ve worked as a writing tutor, an ESL tutor, an editor, a proofreader, etc. But, I slowly stopped writing the busier I became. Writing was pushed to “someday” again.
Maybe it was just a silly fancy after all. Maybe what I had to say wasn’t important. Maybe no one really needed to hear what I had to say.
However, God wouldn’t let it go. Periodically, I’d get pricked. I’d blog or research or go to writing seminars. But life would happen and I’d forget, caught up in the rush of trying to make and pinch pennies.
Finally, exhausted and frustrated I took three weeks off the most stressful job. (By this point I was working about 6 different contract style jobs.) While I was off attempting to write and rest, I received an email stating a client was upset. Meanwhile, my less experienced co-worker who was covering for me appeased them and looked like a rock star.
Angry and frustrated, I racked my brain for the cause. I had been with the company for a while, achieved raises easily enough, and yet… something wasn’t right. I’d sail smoothly for a couple of months and then something would go wrong again. My manager assured me I was great… but I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.
And then it hit me – I’ve been running away. You know that sense, so much stronger than any ‘feely’ feel that hits you at times? That revelation sense? Well, it kicked in then. As long as I kept dodging the calling to write, as long as I only pursued it haphazardly, as long as I was distracted… things were going to keep going wrong. God wasn’t going to let my calling go as easily as I did.
This motivated me.
Maybe my calling wasn’t silly after all.
Maybe it was a real calling.
So, I charged forward. Sometimes blindly, sometimes haltingly. Sometimes enthusiastic, sometimes discouraged. But onward and upward.
So what is your calling? What are you being asked to do? No matter how small you think it is, it’s needed.
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