Over 30 years ago in 1975, I was finishing my last year of high school. My plans for the future were coming together nicely in my mind for what I would do after high school. I was planning on returning to summer camp to work on staff as a lifeguard that summer, get a good tan, earn a little money and have some fun before the grind of university studies. In the fall I would buckle down and focus all my energies toward some career that would guarantee a lucrative income and the possibility of living the rest of my life in the Pacific Northwest, enabling me also to play in the gaps around career and family. “God’s country,” is what I used to call it. It was a place where you could do outdoor sports in both the summer and winter. What a paradise really. I remember the small bit of regional pride and arrogance about the Northwest. I think I still like to tell people I am from Seattle, as if that makes me a more interesting or superior person.
Well, back to the story. Somewhere in my final year of high school my youth pastor invited me to consider taking a short-term mission trip to Europe with an all city Young Life group. I think he even asked me to pray about it. This was before it became commonplace to send youth groups to Mexico so it was something kind of serious to contemplate. I probably said I would consider it but deep in my heart I thought the idea kind of foolish. As time passed people I respected encouraged me to go. They must have also been praying for me more than I was. Adding to this, my youth pastor said the church would help with some scholarship money. Others said it would be only a month out of my life. I warmed to the idea after an informational meeting showed us the potential itinerary, which included a rest day in the Austrian Alps, with a chance to do some hiking. I was crazy about the mountains so thought this would be fun. The prospect also of seeing some things behind the Iron Curtain in East Berlin and the former country of Czechoslavakia peaked my interest. We were in the midst of the Cold War back then and I liked James Bond movies and anything that might resemble espionage stuff.
To make a long story somewhat abbreviated, I went on the trip to Europe. I had a good time but more importantly was deeply impacted by ministries we encountered along the way and godly people following Jesus, some at great risk to their lives and careers in situations of persecution and difficulty. It put my goals for life in perspective. How small and selfish and really empty were my dreams! I was significantly changed and began to ask questions I hadn't considered previously. Did God want something more for my life? Within a year of that first mission trip, I sensed a call to serve cross-culturally. I even wondered to myself if I might find God leading me back to Europe someday.
As I snapped pictures under the Eiffel Tower last week with my family I had a strange, but wonderful feeling of God's wonderful faithfulness and sense of call. I must confess that "call" is not always clear, at least in my experience. I have stumbled, taken detours, and otherwise struggled to discern where God was leading. I have also struggled to know how a personal sense of call can harmonize with having a family and how changes in geography can be difficult for them. It is not always easy to bring the many pieces together into a clear picture of what one is supposed to do with their life! Opinions about what it means to be called vary. I've come to the conclusion, at least for now, that God calls us to that thing we most want to do deep in our heart. When you take time to know God personally he helps you find yourself and the deep love he has toward you. In that process a certain passion and purpose for life begins to emerge. For me it began to slowly but surely blow my mind and heart wide open. Life became expansive instead of narrow, more interesting, and way beyond the limits of my self serving goals. An experience like a mission trip can help in that process. It did for me. One must be careful that mission trips don´t become just a vehicle for finding yourself without thought given to those you seek to serve. For me that first mission trip gave a huge hint as to his desire for my life.
Responding to the "call" can also be risky. Maybe I feel it more now, especially at my stage of life–mid-life that is. This is perhaps the part of call that is different than our culture's version of "going for the gusto!" Sometimes "going for it" can be just a way of sanctifying a selfish desire to have a new, raw experience or to pad your resume. I think the call from God actually follows the pattern of Christ who showed us how to walk in the desert and relenquish his will for the will of his Father in heaven. This is where the messy words of obedience and sacrifice come in. Change is not easy. Implications for others in your life can be difficult as well. Travail, suffering and dark nights of the soul come with the package. I guess that is where trust in the God who knows and loves and is gracious to us is a good place to start. Don't forget also that green pastures and still waters also are included in the call. And there is joy and deep contentment. It is not all "gloom, despair, and agony on me," in other words [remeber that Hee-Haw song?]. That is where I am today, taking pictures and enjoying being with my kids a few more days before they return to Chicago, Ecuador, and school here in Barcelona. What do you think about "call?" Comments are invited and clearly welcome.
