The Call

I’m sitting here listening to Praise Baby while my (almost) six month old stands at his play table, mesmerized by the music and momentarily hitting the pause button on what has become a mode of constant motion.  

And I’m taking this unexpected downtime to detox in the form of blogging.  Because lately, I’ve been finding myself with a whole lot of thoughts.

I’m not sure what started it.  I’m not sure what series of events played out first, because looking back, everything seems so connected.  I can’t really describe it.  I know I can’t, because I’ve tried and haven’t been able to find the words.  And that’s rare for me.  Because I’m nothing if not a words girl.

I guess all I can really say is this: my heart is changing.  It’s opening.  I feel convicted in a way that I’ve never felt convicted before. 

And it’s all about The Call.

It’s irrevocable. 

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.  Ephesians 4:1

Amen, right? 

I feel like we talk about it a lot.  'We' meaning Christians.  There’s a whole lot of lip service being dedicated to talking up The Call.

But you know what?  Reading that verse in Ephesians makes my heart clench.  I do the jitterbug with my eyebrows and cringe.  Because, let’s be honest…how often do I take a step back and evaluate my life?  Do a quick check-in with my inner self?

Hi Mandy, how’s it going?  You doing all you can each and every day to live a life filled with the grace of the Father?  Are you showing His love to this dark world?  What specifically have you done today?  This week?  This year? ….Have you even cracked open your Bible today? 

Uh.  Do I have to answer that?

It wouldn’t be pretty.

And I’m certainly not proud of the answer. 

I’m feeling convicted.  I feel like I’ve been sitting in a boat, anchored in the storm while I let the waters churn and turn all around me.  I’ve got a life vest snugly fastened around my chest and a raincoat hood over my ears.  I’m comfortable.  But I see the waters, and my heart understands that I’ll never get to my destination if I don’t move. 

I feel like I'm slowly giving up my seat in the middle row and starting to scoot towards the outside.  I want to jump into the deep end knowing that I can’t swim.   

I want to get uncomfortable so that I can learn to tread water.

I want to trust. I want to ditch the life vest and live with a reckless abandon for the things of this world, because I don’t need them.  I want to put feet to my faith because that’s what we are called to do.  No more lip service.

I want to share this blog post.  I read it last week by accident.  I’ve never read this person’s blog before, but I stumbled upon it quite randomly.  But this post hit me head on.  I love her heart.  I love her story and her passion.  

Truth be told, I’m still processing.  I was so moved that I shared it with Adam, and after he had read it, I told him that I felt like God was peeling back another layer of my life onion.  I know, you’re probably reading that with the same scrunched up face that Adam had on last night.  Life onion??

My life onion is a work in progress.  Each layer that gets peeled stings, it can get a little uncomfortable, and more often than not leaves me feeling a little weepy.  Because every layer that’s peeled away leaves me just that much more raw.  More vulnerable.  But, in the end, I know that the best part of me is beneath everything on the surface.  And I know God is planning to make something amazing out of the finished product.  Those cracked and peeling layers are no good for the final masterpiece.  They’d ruin it.  I have to let them go, even when it leaves me bleary eyed. 

Get it?  Life onion. 

As I processed with Adam last night, we talked about why it’s so hard to live a life worthy of The Call.  And what it exactly means to live that life.  We came to the basic conclusion that we are called to love the lost, to care for those who cannot care for themselves, to look on the broken with the rose-colored glasses of the Father, and to live today with eternity in our sights. 

We are called to fight the “good fight of faith” (I Timothy 6:12).

We are called “to glory and virtue” (II Peter 1:3)

We are called to the “pure and genuine religion” of caring for the orphans and widows (James 1:27)

We are called to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8)  

That last verse is a personal favorite. 

Act justly.

Love mercy.

Walk humbly with your God.

I want that. But it’s hard.  Adam and I agreed that, at least for us, following that Call is just uncomfortable.  It can put you in awkward situations.  It can burst personal space bubbles and put you on the spot.  Like really on the spot.  Try as we might to live our lives transparently and fully—leaning in and listening—we looked at each other last night and acknowledged what we were both thinking: we’re still very comfortable.  

And I think that means we’re not there yet. 

God calls us to do big things.  Loving a lost world should never be, and will never be, comfortable.  That’s just the nature of the beast.  Literally.

And so we held hands and prayed.  We renewed our commitment to living the life that we have been called to, and I know God is moving.  It’s scary, it’s exciting, and it’s uncomfortable....

...so I’m pretty sure we’re on the right track.

Once our eyes are opened, we can't pretend we don't know what to do. God who weighs our hearts and keeps our souls, knows that we know and holds us responsible to act..

Proverbs 24:12