It’s quiet again. The late evening muse has settled in. And I reflect on my day. My life. I am thankful, though a bit bemused. Thankful finally to be done with formal schooling. Bemused about where it has gotten me, far from my original hopes and dreams. I am not disappointed. Well, not too much. I am surprised, more than anything. But not really. Who I have always been is coming full circle. Or maybe a more apt description is that it is coming to the surface. Yet, it emerges not in its infancy, but in a more mature form. I am who I have always been, only more so. Yet I have changed in important ways and continue to change, particularly in recent months.
In small group last night we were asked to share an area of personal struggle. I volunteered. I spoke of my lifelong struggle concerning the issue of calling. I know I am called. Called to follow Jesus. Called to minister. Called to share the gospel. Called to be a missionary to those around me. Yet, I struggle at times with doubt. It goes something like this:
Who, me? You have GOT to be kidding. Look at me. I am a loser. I am shy. I am ugly, and socially awkward. Are you sure you got the right person?
Lies, all. Yet they pierce my heart in those dark moments when disappointment or hurtful behavior from others matches wits with memories of my own wrong choices and perceived shortcomings to raise to the surface doubt about God’s call on my life.
I don’t know if my readers go through times like this. If not, I understand if my admission surprises you. It’s the reality of life in a world at spiritual war, at least for me. It is the stuff of hearts once broken and still scarred, yet being transformed by the grace of Jesus Christ. It is in those moments that the memory of the beloved disciple leaning against Jesus for reassurance speaks volumes to me. For in that memory I can almost hear the heartbeat of Christ sounding steadily in my ear and bringing confidence to my heart.