Did God not give me a calling?

Dear Hannah,

People always talk about a calling. “God is calling me to ______.”

Sometimes, the blank is a person. Sometimes, it’s a place or a career.

I just graduated college during a pandemic and I don’t think I have a calling. I feel like I have no direction or sense of purpose. I feel lost.

Did God not give me a calling? Did I miss it? Any direction would be helpful. Please and thank you.

xoxo,

Dear J,

Calling.

It’s a word I’d never heard until stepping into the church at the age of 22. Quickly, I realized that word was falling off of everyone’s lips.

I’m called to _________.

She’s called to __________.

We are going to ___________ because we’re called.

I felt like maybe something was wrong with me. Like, maybe I missed the Calling 101 course. How could all these people be so “called”? Where was the call? Did I miss it?

These questions swarmed in my head for a long time until I felt my own kind of nudge.

I was 25. I was sitting in the window of Starbucks at 7 am on a Sunday morning. I’d laid in bed the night before unable to fall asleep. The second I knew a coffee shop was open, I got dressed and headed there before church.

The night before I’d broken up with my boyfriend. Or he broke up with me. We mutually agreed it was a necessary ending. We wanted different things. You’re allowed to want different things and it’s okay if those different things are the reason you two can’t be together.

But I felt so heartbroken— like I’d given everything I had to the process and was turning up single once again. I felt lost. I felt tired. I felt frustrated with God.

I sat in the window and cried, feeling like I was back at square one with nothing to show for myself. At that moment, in a way I can’t fully explain, I felt the nudge: It’s time. It’s time to pack up your suitcase and go.

The voice felt sure. It felt sturdy and right. I’d been avoiding the place I’d wanted to go for so long. Even before we started dating, I knew I wanted to move to Atlanta but I was scared. I only had this sense in my gut that I was supposed to spend time there and I wasn’t sure if that was enough.

But when I met my ex, I used our relationship as an excuse to stay put. To not follow the fear. To convince me that I had everything I needed right here.

“I think you’re going to Georgia.” That was one of the last things he said to me. He was right.

“It’s time. It’s time to pack up your suitcase and go,” the Nudge said to me.

It was time to take the next necessary step.

…

From that point forward, J, I was called and there was no stopping me.

Do you know the annoying person at your church who is constantly talking about their calling? That was me. That was absolutely me.

I am certain I oozed with annoyingness.

Let’s be honest: the way we talk about callings within the church is exhausting. We talk about them like they’re a train we will miss if we’re not standing on the platform at 4:10 pm. We talk about them in a way that alienates other people into believing that they don’t hear from God, at least not in the way they do.

I look back at that younger version of myself and I think, “Pump the brakes, ya little chiclet. You don’t have to tell everyone about your calling. You can chill a little…”

Do I believe there are clear callings? Yes.

Do I think you will experience some in your lifetime? Absolutely.

Do I think God hides them across the planet as foil-y gold tickets tucked into Wonka bars? Not really.

I just don’t think the point of this lifetime is to spend it searching for something that always feels a little out of reach. I don’t think God placed us here to uncover our calling but to wake up and realize that all of this lifetime is just responding to his call to be light and love to others.

…

I think we can all agree that 2020-2021 has been incredibly hard. It’s like a hard that keeps coming.

You’re not the only one feeling a little jilted, like you’re not sure if God is there anymore. Maybe take the pressure off yourself to feel like you need a step-by-step plan. Look around you and start here… start where you can.

As social media turned into various dumpster fires during election season, my mom would often tell me that she had one mission during that time:

But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do,
what God is looking for in men and women.
It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,
be compassionate and loyal in your love,
And don’t take yourself too seriously—
take God seriously.

-Micah 6:8, MSG

Other translations state: be fair, just, merciful, and to walk humbly with your God.

During a time where none of us had a lot of answers, my mom would continually say that she mastering the art of Micah 6:8. That she was just out there in the world “Micah 6:8-ering” it. And I can tell you there were a handful of times where that was my guiding point as well. When I felt lost, scared, upset, or confused by the world— I would look for the thing to do in the moment that looked like love. Like mercy. Like putting others before myself. Filtering life through the lens of Micah 6:8 led to a lot of good in those darker days.

…

There’s a book I want you to read. Yes, that’s right. I am giving you homework. I want you to order this book and read it. It’s a new favorite of mine.

In the book, Nouwen writes about how the calling of Jesus is more subtle than you’d imagine. That anyone who is really spending time with Jesus is rarely given these big and grand missions.

Are the missions we live still big and grand? Yes, but he typically calls us to the small steps. To the missions broken up into bite-sized pieces.

I’ve gotten into a rhythm of asking the Lord during my quiet time, “What do you want me to do today?”

I can be so inflated with my own to-do list that I miss out on the most important callings of that day.

I sit there. I wait. I wait for that still, small voice inside of me that isn’t proud or boastful. And I write down what I hear.

Most of the time it’s the smallest of things. It’s a call to write Lane a love letter and leave it on his bedside table. It’s a call to turn off my phone. It’s a call to make cookies or pray over Novalee before naptime. It is a call to go into my email and encourage someone. They are small tasks but they end up being the golden threads within my day.

Don’t worry, chiclet… you’re doing just fine. You are right here— so there’s something good, and merciful, and just for you to do with this day.

Your calling isn’t something you step into once. Your calling is something you are constantly stepping into. There are many facets to it. Don’t make the mistake of thinking your “calling” is just one thing. You are called to God. That, alone, will take up your entire life.

And when you get stuck next, because you will get stuck, I want you to steal this prayer and soak up these words. God will meet you there.

“Dear God, it is so easy to miss out on the simple ways you’ve called me to this day. Sometimes I am guilty of thinking the missions should be bigger, nobler, louder. Something the rest of the world can see and applaud. Help me clean out the clutter in my heart and really devote myself to what matters. Show me how to love justice, act mercifully, and walk humbly with you throughout this day.” Amen.

Keep fighting forward,

hb.

p.s.

You might wanna read this one also.