Planning: Day 13

Today’s Song: A Gift for Melody Anne by The Avett Brothers

You can’t bargain with God. You can’t ask God to promise anything that hasn’t already been promised in scripture, I don’t think. There’s no exchange of goods in the God-human relationship. You can’t make a deal with God. That’s what crossroads demons are for.

But boy, do I want to. When I was in 10th grade, I applied to go to the North Carolina School of Science and Math. I didn’t get in, but before I knew that, I made a deal with the sky outside my bedroom window that if I did get in, I’d go and do some science-y career and if I didn’t, I’d be a music minister. Clearly, I didn’t hold up my end of the deal and I’ve always kinda wondered about that. Was there some kind of fate I set in motion with my promises to the sky? Did God just listen to that whole interaction and smile?

When I was picking colleges, I chose Carolina instead of Florida Institute of Technology because I wanted an out. If this whole astrophysicist thing wasn’t going to pan out for me, I wanted to be able to change what I was doing. So I altered the deal- if I didn’t do well in science, I’d look into the religious studies major. I figured I was doing the right thing here. I was giving myself options while still pursuing what I wanted to do. It nagged at me, but I thought I was being smart and practical and I went on with my life.

During sophomore year, there were some retirements in the physics and astronomy department and they weren’t offering all the classes I needed to complete the astronomy part of my physics and astronomy major. Since that’s kinda why I went through with the physics major in the first place, getting that news set off a whole host of existential crises. I mean, if I ever wanted a burning bush, this was it. To be melodramatic about it, my major disappeared. Time to pick a new one, right? But I was already most of the way done with the classes I’d need for a physics BA, so I stayed my course. I mean, it’s not like you have to have a religious studies degree to apply to seminary.

Then they started the UNC-BEST program, where you can get a science degree and a teaching license at the same time. I figured it’d be handy to have a backup plan so I went for it. Also that year, I had taken a religious studies class to fulfill a philosophy requirement and loved it and signed on to a religious studies living/learning community. So even though I felt like maybe I was walking farther and farther away from what I should be doing (pursuing education about religion to put me on the path to being an ordained minister), I was making up for it by filling in a religious studies minor. 

Junior year, I think, I went with some friends from the Wesley Foundation to a program put on by the United Methodist Church called Exploration, which is like a giant seminary/divinity school fair with a couple of worship sessions and breakout groups to talk about calling. I had a bunch of thoughts at the time, but what I remember most is that at the end, they had us fill out a card during a worship service and you checked something like, “I’m definitely interested in ordained ministry” or not and then “You can tell my district about this” or not. I don’t remember what I put. I only remember being really on the fence about it, putting the answer I felt like they wanted, and… regretting it. 

I got the idea that I could use some more time to think about what I was actually being called to, if anything, and so I figured that, as long as student teaching didn’t suck, I’d teach for a couple of years. Then an internship opened up at the planetarium, followed by a full-time position that I was qualified for, and the rest of the past three years is history. I figured I’d accept that bargain I made back when I was sixteen after I’d worked for a couple of years. My fate was sealed long ago, right? I mean, you might not be able to bargain with God, but I want to be the kind of person that keeps my promises. So seminary it is, sometime soon.

I’ve a mind for remembering facts and ideas from sermons and books and bible studies. I was good at and enjoyed studying biblical Hebrew. I am so Methodist it hurts sometimes and I do church so well, the new pastor at my home church said, “Oh, I’ve heard about you” when I was singing in the choir on a Sunday visit home. I believe in the Church as an organization and in the Church as the body of Christ in this world. I believe in our ability to make the world better and I believe that our faith requires us to do that. I believe that people see something true when they say that I should be a pastor. I believe that the countless conversations I’ve had with people over the years about purpose and calling have been good things, helpful things, and insightful things. I believe all of these things, but I’m not sold on my call, my own personal following of the divine will for the world. 

And honestly, I’m kinda sick of thinking about it. I’m sick of going over the hows and the whys and the what-fors. I just want to pick a road and be on it, but I’m so scared of picking the wrong one that I’ve oscillated a million times over the course of my life. I want to know where I’m supposed to be, I want to be confident, I don’t want to have to turn around, shamefaced because something didn’t work out. I don’t ever want to look at a period of my life and think of it as wasted time. And I don’t want to have to sell myself on how that time was still used for good- I want it to be obvious. I want to be unimpeachable in the eyes of men.

I know it’s ridiculous. I know everyone makes mistakes and you just have to try things because no one’s got it all figured out. I know I’m lucky to have the chance to pick and choose like this. I know that if I’m seeking God earnestly, I’ll find God. I know I have been given untold grace in the face of my deep pride and self-absorption. I know that life has been good to me and that I haven’t been good back and I know that I’m sorry about that. But I just want some sort of sign, some confirmation that I haven’t gotten this all wrong.

What I’m most afraid of, though, is that the sign, the answer to the, “Why won’t you tell me what to do?” question will be, “I did.

“Feed my sheep.

“Care for the poor.

“Set the captives free and proclaim sight to the blind.

“Why won’t you do that?”