The way of trust is a movement into obscurity, into the undefined, into ambiguity, not into some pre-determined, clearly delineated plan for the future. The next step discloses itself only out of discernment of God acting in…. the present moment. The reality of naked trust is the life of a pilgrim who leaves what is nailed down, obvious and secure, and walks into the unknown without any rational explanation to justify the decision or guarantee the future. Why? Because God has signaled the movement and offered his presence and his promise.
(Brenan Manning, Ruthless Trust (London, UK SPCK Publishing, 2002), p13.)
As the end of the year begins to move into sight, more and more thought space is being taken up with what the next chapter holds upon our return home from traveling for the last few years. Travel has provided the perfect excuse for procrastinating answering the all important question of what exactly we will do with our lives. Both of us, yet while still not out of our twenties, have experimented with a number of career paths, from the TV industry, to law, to chefing, to the bike industry. Far from finding our niches, we’ve resorted to escapism in travel.
For the past year we have been seeking guidance from God, lightening bolts, writing in the sky, a nudge, anything really. But it’s been all rather quiet on that front.
I’m conflicted theologically on the idea of God’s guidance. Part of me desperately wants God to have a preference that he lets us know about, even just advice of some kind, after all if you want someone’s opinion on which is a better course of action, more likely to have a greater impact for good on this world which so desperately needs it, well who better to look to than the omnipotent God. On the other hand, I wonder if he is silent at this time of all, as deadlines for decisions come, because he wants us to choose. After all, the mature child most parents want to raise into adulthood, is the one who makes their own decisions without constantly running back to the parent, but decisions that are in line with the values that have been passed down to the child.
A number of options that I have been looking at don’t seem to be working out, I can’t seem to see the next step. I feel backed into a corner, with few options to pursue. One possible path that has lurked around for some time now, is not at all a sensible one, it would require retraining, more years of study (and considering six of my last nine years have been spent studying, this doesn’t recommend it), at a time when our savings are low, and my husband is also considering study, not to mention children are possibly in the not so distant future. The option doesn’t present great job security, or much control about where we would live, it seems risky, there is great potential for it to work out, to impact people, but it’s a hard road, definitely more risk in the messiness category. I’m scared too. I’ve already studied, and found one career less than a good fit and discarded it. If God pointed me towards this particular option I’m looking at, I’d be there in a flash. But as it is I just feel paralysed, desperate not to follow another dead-end career path, but not seeing another option present itself to lead me out of this place.
While God is silent, my husband and I have found ourselves in a non-english speaking country short on English bookstores, with one book to read. The book is on prayer, and has been challenging us on a number of issues, leading us to think about this decision in new ways.
One challenge, is that hard isn’t necessarily bad when you think about life in the long run, in terms of spiritual development, and your relationship with the creator. When things are hard, the way unsure, that’s when you tuck in close, cry out in prayer. This possible path, given its focus, will be harder, and also require us to spend more time thinking about this God thing, and what that means for those around us that we would work for and with.
But is this just silly, choosing reckless for recklessness’’ sake, because it is harder? Everything in me tells me this is just plain silly.
In God on Mute, Pete Greig had the following to say:
I have often experienced the smile of God due to the risks I have taken in his name. In fact, with hindsight I can see that, without exception, the biggest blessings of all my life have been the result of taking some terrifying step of faith into the unknown. (Pete Greig, God On Mute (Eastbourne, UK, Kingsway Communications Ltd, 2007), p 218.)
Risk, daring risks, confidently taken often work some kind of magic. I don’t want to romantisce this, and trust me, taking risks doesn’t sit easily with my nature. But we have one life, one choice at a time to make, that will shape the next, and the next. And ultimately all we will have is our relationship with our creator, so perhaps taking this risk, as the world would see it, is the more prudent path from this perspective.
Possibly the biggest challenge for me lies in my fear of repeated vocational failure. Somehow my confidence has become wrapped up in my achievements, my competency, and the present state of paralysis which has been with me for some time now, hasn’t exactly worked wonders on my outlook on life and perception of self. All my life I have longed, and strived to be effective, to make a difference, to impact this world for good. I’m the type of person who gets out of bed each day asking herself, what is the point of today? What am I going to do to make it worth it? In this vocational black hole, I’ve found myself stalling. I can’t answer those questions sufficiently. And this effects my confidence. I have potential, I have strengths. But what if somehow I just sort of keep stalling, and life passes me by, and I never really make my mark, never really make an impact. Is God watching me with a sort of detachment, thinking ‘if only she had made a different choice a few years ago, then her life would have had impact’.
So, I sit and I wait, listening for a whisper, a nudge, something, anything, to guide me. I weigh the risks involved in going forward regardless. I list deadlines. I talk and I journal. I struggle and work to trust the God who, while I can’t predict how he will choose to be involved in my life, is a God who cares about this decision, who desires for me to be used for good, and who is more than capable of stopping attentive children from at least going down the wrong road. And then I sit down and listen a little more, and think about how long it has been since I listened this hard, and spent this much time with my creator. And that in itself, is very very good.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment