One of my favorite stories to tell involves me and a library. At 9 or 10, I was small–a peanut of a kid. I wasn’t tall and I didn’t have very much meat on my bones. On this particular summer day, I was slotted with the very important job of running our library books back in to the counter. Mom dropped me at the curb and I went skittering towards the building, books in hand, and reached the door–which did not open.
I looked up at the motion censor but it did not look back down at me. It gazed on over my head into a world of fully-grown bookworms and college students, waiting eagerly for their arrival but unconcerned with my measly chapter books. I was a motivated, driven, and bossy kid (incidentally, I am a motivated, driven, and bossy adult) and I would not be undone by this door. It was too heavy for me to push, but I remembered being told once that some automatic doors are triggered by weight on the mat. So I did what any intellectual library-goer would do: I jumped.
I jumped up and down on the mat, thinking surely if the weight didn’t work then my bonus height from leaping as high into the air as I could would get the attention of the choosy door censor.
To be honest, I don’t remember how I ended up getting into the library that day. My memory ends at this moment: me, arms full of books, jumping up and down with fierce determination, in front of the library door.
I think about that day once every few months. In many ways, it’s how I see myself taking the course God is setting out before me. That the fervor with which I choose a path can actually blind me to a greater call. Perhaps I’m being gently called to try another way, another door, but I stand at the one I’m sure is right, and I jump and plea and beg for it to be opened to me.
Which is how I ended up here. I am trying to abandon any path and go wherever He calls me. In John 2:5, Mary the mother of Christ, tells the servants at the wedding at Cana, “Do whatever he tells you.” And what happens when they do? Jesus’s first miracle and the beginning of his ministry on earth. What a powerful testament to following where you’re called in the moment, instead of trying to anticipate God’s next move. I love this verse because there are levels of faithful obedience. Mary doesn’t know what she’s asking of the servants specifically–she just knows that for Jesus to become the Savior he was born to be, he needs willing participants in the ministry; so she finds them. The servants don’t know what Jesus is going to do; just that they’ve been told by his mother to get it done.
In the recent weeks, I’ve felt a stirring to start sharing with people. I’m very passionate about a handful of things, but none of them have ever felt noble enough (or I’ve not felt worthy enough) to talk about them. I love to organize the world around me, but it seems boring to others. I enjoy crafting and creating, especially calligraphy and handlettering, and have a small Etsy shop, but I’m not a professional artist. And I love the Lord and choosing each day to attempt something resembling holiness, but I’m hardly an expert at getting it right.
And yet, I feel called to share now. So I’m going to step away from whatever mat I’m jumping on at the moment and I’m going to follow this new path. As they saying goes, “God doesn’t call the equipped; He equips the called.” I’m not sure whether I’m building a boat in the water or building the plane as I fly–but either way I’ll trust whatever blueprints He throws at me.
I’m Erin, and it’s nice to meet you. 🙂