Sometimes I imagine God like a childhood friend tapping on my window. It’s cracked open just a bit, and I can hear him saying “hey. Hey Alex! You sleepin’?” It’s this soft whisper that’s packed with all sorts of adventure. It’s dark out. I should be sleeping, but how can I?
Vocatio, the Latin word, or kaleō, the Greek. They mean calling. Our lives are wrapped up in our callings. Where do we go, and why? Our calling is the source of so many of our choices, and our choices are the only proof of our convictions. A man who has the conviction to help children understand the joy in the world may have the job of a puppeteer. If you saw this same man working at the IRS offices you’d likely think “hmmm… maybe he didn’t really care about kids that much.” This is what I mean when I say our choices are the only proof of our convictions.
People take tests about vocation. They see counselors, they talk to certified vocation professionals. My wife says that some even take quizzes on “Kickinitteenstyle.com” (Unlike her, I don’t watch The Middle). But I see it differently, or maybe I should say I hear it differently.
“Have you been half asleep, and have you heard voices? I hear them calling my name. Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailor, the voice may be one in the same.”
It may not seem like the best way to make big life choices, but when I hear a voice calling me in the night, I go. Like Calvin hearing Hobbes knocking at the window, adventure awaits.
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I wasn’t always this way. The first time I felt called to anything was when I stopped studying Film in favor of Ministry. It didn’t feel magical, it felt practical. I wasn’t the best filmmaker, and I hated being surrounded by people who loved Quentin Tarantino. Church people were my people, and I already worked at a church, so it was only natural.
The second time I heard my calling, it was during a sleepless night. The thunder rolled outside the window while I was visiting friends in Kansas. The rain tapped. “Hey. Hey Alex! You sleepin’?” I knew I needed to move. I was working at a church in California and my life was anything but stable. My wedding had been postponed, my friend group was shaken, and since I had moved out to Los Angeles, my entire life felt unsettled. When I was in college my parents moved out to Missouri, and in the midst of any life crisis I would go visit them. This time I had the opportunity to visit friends in Kansas City, in the middle of a thunder storm. I wasn’t scared. I was impressed.
“Look at God showing off,” I thought. The rain tapping, and calling. This is where you need to be.
In the midst of all the chaos, making crazy choices didn’t seem irrational, it seemed exciting. It started with this seed of a thought. My friend’s church was likely hiring for a Youth Pastor position and their band needed someone to play bass on tour. This could be pretty awesome.
When the first church fell through, I was strangely undeterred. I started sending out applications, but there was one that felt special. There was this one church that I just knew was the right fit (funny in light of my last post, I know). I applied, I followed up, I felt like “this is the one”. I also felt a little crazy.
You can’t tell people you’re following the still small voice of an imaginary boy knocking on your window without people looking at you like you’re crazy. Maybe I was crazy. God uses crazy.
As you probably guessed, Kate and I did finally end up getting married. We had rescheduled the wedding, but it was interrupted when both of Kate’s parents landed in the hospital. There were a few nights that were spent in hospital rooms. It made an already unsure time even more unsettled and frightening. But for some reason, I still just knew.
I packed my bags, but Kate would have to stay back and care for her parents. I got a job at a factory while I waited to hear back from the church. I got an apartment. Finally, Kate and I loaded up a rental truck and hit the road in the middle of winter. That’s how sure I was. Or maybe it wasn’t surety that I was looking for. I had abandoned any hope of surety months ago. I wanted adventure. I wanted to give up. I wanted God to be in control.
That was my calling. It was soft but clear. Quiet but stern. “Let’s go, I need your help.” “Ok.”
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When I applied to Fuller I didn’t even realize that everything was changing there. They were completely redoing their MDiv program. They wanted a greater emphasis on… you guessed it, calling. Two years had passed since I had first heard that voice knocking on my window. My Kansas adventure had turned sour. It wasn’t the escape I had hoped for, instead God’s plan was to refine me further. I needed to be broken again. I looked at the questions in the application. They all asked about my calling. Why am I going to Fuller? What do I plan to do when I graduate? I remember answering each one with conviction. I want to pursue ministry in the American Christian Church. I want to show God’s grace to others. I had heard that voice beckoning me again. “It’s time for a new adventure.”
I didn’t just get accepted into Fuller, I received a Vocatio Scholarship. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who saw the childhood friend knocking on my window.
The strange part of this story is that it wasn't only Fuller that sent an acceptance letter, I also got into Dallas Theological Seminary. Up until I was fired, I was fully convinced I would be attending DTS online while working at the church in Kansas. I knew I had been called to apply to seminary, but I wasn’t sure where I would go. I prayed that God would make that clear. I was praying that my old friend would come back and take me on another adventure. Sleepless nights ensued, but if you’ve read the other posts, that’s not uncommon for me these days.
I had wanted to go to Fuller for years, and I hadn’t even heard of DTS until I got out to Kansas. When I visited the Fuller campus back when I was working in Montebello, they had a program in Theology and the Arts. I was excited about the thought, but it seemed somewhere in the distant future. There was no way I was going to be able to afford to go to school, and start a family, and afford rent in California.
This is the amazing thing about calling, it doesn’t just ask you to perform a certain task, it beckons the whole of your being into a greater adventure. All of these loose ends in your life start to come together, all of them are pieces in a greater story. I imagine laying there in my bed.
“Hey Alex, let’s go.”
“Ok, ok, I’m up.”
“Oh and by the way, you’re going to need that old Game Boy, and a yearbook from 2005. Wear shorts, but warm socks, and your favorite sweater”
“That’s oddly specific. Why would I…”
“Just get the stuff, let’s go!”
I’ve got all this stuff laying around. There are all these pieces of my life that I don’t know how to deal with. When I pursue calling, suddenly some of those pieces of junk become my most important tools.
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So things went to crap. I’m not going to retread all of that, you’ve hopefully read the other posts. Now, with no job holding me in Kansas, I could pursue that MDiv with an emphasis in Theology and the Arts, back in California.
But I don’t want anyone to get the impression that this is easy. As I said before, grace is a messy thing. Well, so is calling. I was going to need to get my pregnant wife and I halfway across the country. I was going to need to sell my house. I was going to need to find a job or two in California. We’d need money to get out there.
“What are we doing?”
“Don’t worry, I got this.”
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Right before I left for Kansas I heard that I didn’t get the job at the "special" church. I had moved myself, and soon my wife, all the way to Kansas so that I could work in a warehouse and play in a band. I was crazy, I was verifiably an idiot. Anyone who saw me at this point in my life and said “wow, he’s got it together,” had to be completely insane.
But I loaded the truck anyway. I quit my job anyway. I drove that truck to Kansas anyway.
I was at the 2nd hotel that I stayed at on the road, in Utah, and I got an e-mail. The guy they had hired for the position at the church wasn’t going to work out, and they wanted to talk to me. Apparently, he wasn’t willing to make the move to Kansas, or so I was told. And here I was, on the road.
I had an opportunity to tour with a band of my close friends. I had a chance to work in a place other than a church. I had conversations with people at the warehouse about God. One guy lost his trucking business because of a DUI, his wife left, and he went from making 6 figures to making $10/hr. I shared with him God’s grace. He started attending a church, and he sought help for his drinking. God’s adventure was much better than mine.
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So it ends how it begins. In pursuit of God’s call, I chose the hard road and allowed Him to work out the loose ends. I drove up the mountain. I found two jobs and started my MDiv. I’ve had a chance to talk to people about God’s grace and love. I’ve had an opportunity to meet new people and forge new friendships. I’ve been blessed with a new adventure.
We all are searching for some sort of purpose. I’d be lying if I said I still felt convicted to be in ministry. At this point in my life I have no idea where God wants me 3 years from now. I’ll stay up waiting for the knock on the window. So many of us are waiting for the knock on the window.
When we tell stories about calling it makes it seem like life is constantly full of adventure, but we know it’s not. So many of us are either sleepless, waiting for the knock on the window, or are sleeping soundly despite the voice calling us. This is the vast majority of our life. It’s not like you will wake up one day and never be bored again. Sometimes, the greatest call God has for you is to finish binge watching Arrow while you write a blog post (what? I’m supposed to write what I know…). But if the two choices are sleeping through the calling, and waiting anxiously for it, I’d rather God find me laying awake in my bed than for my snores to drown out his beckoning.
But there are those that wake up. They hear the voice and yet refuse to leave through the window. It’s a scary choice, the night is dark and the way is foreign. There is no promise of safety, and no assured success. The bed is warm and inviting. It’s familiar.
I can promise you this, the adventure is always better. Even with all the hurt and confusion, even with all the searching and questioning, I would choose to follow the call every time. For those of you snoring, wake up oh sleeper! For those of you who are timid, know that the bed grows stale, and eventually you will be restless, but when you are, there is no guarantee that Christ will be knocking, that calling will be clear. Go now. Go when you hear it. For those of you on the adventure, I wish you safe travels. I’m jealous, but I think I’m going to rest for now. I’ll be waiting for Christ to knock on my window again.
|| Posted by Alex ||
You really are a great writer. Glad to have your around!
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