God’s Call is Enough

God’s Call is enough, and that’s a good thing, because it’s also binding.  This is not from the daily office, today, but as I was doing my reading, my mind couldn’t help but wander to Romans 11:29, “for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable” (NIV).

Confession: Sometimes, I have wondered…

So the truth is I feel as if I spent my entire morning making plastic tags for the blessing of the backpacks that will soon take place at my local church.  There was a moment when I was tempted to send out an SOS that would have looked something like this:  Help!  Please provide controversial theological subject matter… willing to argue either side of the issue, even if I don’t agree with it… dying of children’s ministry!

Now, let me be clear.  I value children’s ministry a lot.  I think Jesus is abundantly comprehensible when he speaks of the kingdom of heaven belonging to children and the importance of bringing them to him (see Matt. 19:14).  The Hebrew blessing often adorns a wall of my home and always resounds in my heart when I think about my own little people (see Num. 6:24-26).  I was just having a moment with my paper cutter and glue stick and backpack tags (which, by the way, turned out really cute).

But back to God’s call…  Wow!  Sometimes it sure doesn’t manifest itself in the ways we (I) imagined it might!

Now… the daily office, for real: 

Isaiah 41:9-10, “I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you.  I said, ‘You are my servant’; I have chosen you and have not rejected you. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (NIV).

Wherever you go…

Whatever you do…

(Oh, crap, cue 1980s music, completely irrelevant, too…)

However the call plays out…

Whoever ends up in your wheelhouse or on your accountability list…

God upholds you.

And so here I sit, looking at a desk full of stuff that has been accomplished in the office this week, hoping and praying that it translates to something redemptive in the lives of families, over the weekend.  I’m pretty sure it will, since God’s hands are all over this.  Believe me.  It’s true.  Because speaking of music, I am about to kick off a youth ministry program with my third least favorite song in the world, so I know this is not about me!

 
L.

Leadership

II Chronicles 20:12, “…We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you” (NIV).

Yesterday, I ran across a post on social media that talked about humble leadership.  The original post directed me to the scene from the LOTR trilogy, in which Frodo accepts the great responsibility of carrying the ring to Mordor.  He says, “I will take it… though, I do not know the way…”

The whole scene is quite captivating, and I’m not sure any part of it is as beautiful as the look on Gandalf’s face when Frodo accepts this challenge, this position of leadership, for which he is both entirely unprepared and unqualified, but to which he has also been called. 

Of course, this is also the point at which the Fellowship of the Ring is formed—the community that will surround Frodo on his journey, because one cannot hope to lead, alone.  The very nature of leadership, at its core, requires cooperation.

I often feel a little like Jehoshaphat, when he prays to God and trusts that God will hear and save his people, even though Jehoshaphat has no idea what he’s doing… 

I often feel a little like Frodo, when he takes the ring and trusts that he will be able to carry out his task, even though Frodo has no idea what’s he doing…

I think I’m just trying to confess that I have no idea what I’m doing…

But I’m looking to God, I’m looking at God… and God sees me, and I see God… so I guess I’m going to stumble along, hopefully just one step further forward than backward as I go.

Leadership is not sexy.  Leadership is not power.  Leadership begins and ends with servanthood.  At the end of any quest or any calling, it is often accompanied by layers upon layers of dirt and grime and blood and sweat and tears and scars.  And then we die.  But at least we lived…

 
L.