Despite having had a major experience of God's consolation over the past several days, my everyday life is one of deep discouragement. It's filled with frustrations: the lack of employment means that much around the house that we had to neglect during my seminary years remains undone; the profusion of rain and cold means that the yard looks as if no one has lived here in a decade; my double vision means that almost everything I attempt takes twice as long as it should and that I have to depend entirely on others for transportation.
The hardest thing is the empty hole where the call process should be. RevGals today optimistically and joyfully addresses the process for those just graduating from seminary. It's been a year since I graduated, six months since I was certified ready to receive a call, and . . . nada. I remember how incredibly excited I was about the future on both of those occasions, but now I find myself baffled and bewildered. I'm not alone; my best friend from seminary, a remarkably gifted and accomplished woman, remains call-less, and I keep hearing stories of folks two and three years out, still hoping. There is one church possibility at the moment for which I am both optimistic and enthusiastic, but possibility remains the key word there.
It's not as if I have nothing to do. In fact, I have begun to receive enough invitations for spiritual direction, retreat work, teaching, and community work that I am even more uncertain: How is it that my own church can't come up with work for me, when other people and organizations and institutions seem interested in my contributions? and: Am I being called into something else entirely?
Among the many non-pastor items on my plate are a couple of writing projects which may turn into something. And so I'm going to step back from blogging for awhile and head down that path with as much focus and discipline as I can muster. I'll still be reading, and I have book reviews to post, but I'm going to start limiting my online time , dramatically, effective . . . NOW.
Image: Path through Atsena Otie, a tiny island off Cedar Key, Florida
