What the heck am I going to read to get my life together?

Today I'd like to share two of my favorite books for the young and the "too empowered"--those twentysomethings who are wrestling with vocation, calling, and whether they should move back in with their parents after college.

1. What the Heck Am I Going to Do with My Life? by Margaret Feinberg

With grace and wisdom, Margaret explores passion, talent, abilities, and vocation in God's Kingdom. This book is practical, readable, and chock-full of nuggets of wisdom.

When I first read it about a year ago, my favorite part of the book was learning I wasn't the only one who didn't have it all together. As anti-hipster as it sounds, I'm just going to say that sometimes it is darn good to know that I don't have a monopoly on self-obsessed neuroses, that I'm not utterly, uniquely screwed up.

As I've been re-reading Margaret's book over the last couple of weeks, I've resonated more with her constant call to submit our callings, vocations, and desires to God.

She reminds us,

“The fact that you have a passion for something doesn’t mean that desire is meant to rule you; your passions are always subject to the cross.”

I’ve been learning this the hard way this year, as I’ve felt God saying to me, “Your job at Plant With Purpose is not yours to hold on to. Your passion is not yours to hold on to.”

Margaret writes,

“He designed us to live openhanded lives so that the passions we possess don’t possess us."

Inviting others to join in the transformational work of Plant With Purpose has been such a passion for me, a joy for me, but if He is calling me elsewhere, I want to be willing to open my hands and follow His lead.

2. Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation by Parker Palmer

I love Parker's views on this topic because he frames our search for vocation as the search to recover our 'true selves.'

"The figure calling to me all those years was, I believe, what Thomas Merton calls "true self." This is not the ego self that wants to inflate us (or deflate us, another from of self-distortion), not the intellectual self that wants to hover above the mess of life in clear but ungrounded ideas, not the ethical self that wants to live by some abstract moral code. It is the self-planted in us by the God who made us in God's own image-- the self that wants nothing more, or less, than for us to be who we were created to be.

True self is true friend. One ignores or rejects such friendship only at one's peril.”

Ever the intellecter and introspector, I appreciated Parker's emphasis on self-examination and learning to receive God's love. 

He writes,

“Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic self-hood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be. As we do so, we will not only find the joy that every human being seeks--we will also find our path of authentic service in the world.”

He also offers a candid, yet hopeful discussion on depression, burnout, and healing, which has been a reality in my life in the lives of many of my close friends. Parker also authored one of my favorite, paradigm-shifting quotes on weakness: 

"We will become better teachers not by trying to fill the potholes in our souls but by knowing them so well that we can avoid falling into them.”

If you've been thinking about vocation, calling, and what the heck you're going to do with your life, I highly recommend joining Margaret and Parker on their journeys to discover God's call on their lives. They are both well worth the read.

Have you read either of these books? What books or resources on vocation and calling would you recommend?

On Calling and Cultivating Mustard Seeds

Today we continue our weeklong focus on vocation here on Memoirs of Algeisha. To read the first post, click here. I'm excited to delve into vocation, calling, passion, and obedience together.

On Calling and Cultivating Mustard Seeds

“Oh, so you’re completely messed up right now,” she replied when I told her about the study abroad program I had just returned from, more of a statement than a question. She sat cross-legged in the corner of our on-campus apartment, the soles of her thrift store sneakers worn and ragged, unaltered like her gray-streaked hair.

My friends turned to me in a whoosh of curls, highlights, and curiosity.

“Yes, I’m completely messed up,” I responded, unapologetically.

“Wait, what?” “Yeah, Aly, what?” My friends wondered, but I offered nothing more.

She gave me a smile and I knew right then that we shared a secret language, a code.

A code that would bring me back from the edge.

***

I have a friend and mentor who is incredible with college students. When I came back from a traumatic study abroad experience, she was the only one who understood right off the bat. She saw my questions about God and the church and U.S. foreign policy as engagement of my faith, not a rejection of it. She saw my anger as a sign of compassion, not rebellion. She listened, she validated, she understood my shopping guilt and inability to open my Bible. She challenged me to move beyond the anger. She called me out of wallowing. She demonstrated a life of compassion and intentionality. She gave me hope in the body of Christ.

When I graduated she gave me a present, a small, glass picture frame that at first glance looks empty. But if you look hard enough, in the center of the white paper backing is a small yellowish dot—a mustard seed. It’s tiny, smaller than I pictured when we recited the verse in Sunday School, “I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17:20) 

In an angry, questioning, depressed college student, she saw and cultivated a mustard seed of faith.

Recently I had lunch with her and the topic of calling and vocation came up. She said to me of her work with college students, of the shattering and rebuilding of worldviews, of developing a faith of our own, “I could do that cycle over and over again, forever.”

It wasn’t just me that she impacted. Her faith in me transformed my life and, in turn, spilled over into my relationships, my career, my spheres of influence. And it’s not just me that she’s mentored. I can’t even begin to count the number of students who would call her a most trusted friend and mentor.

She has a calling, a vocation, to work with college students.

When I think of Frederick Buechner’s wise words, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet,” I think of my mentor.  (Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC)

I think of the deep gladness she finds in friendship with college students. I think of the deep hunger for understanding and connection I felt when I returned from Central America, broken and despondent. I think of the mustard seed that blossomed into a flourishing tree in my life and in the lives of so many other students.

That is what I want to find. A calling that brings me deep gladness and meets the world’s deepest hungers. I have ideas of what this looks like. I experienced it for a time at Plant With Purpose, finding deep gladness in writing for an organization that meets deep hunger in developing countries.

As I move forward, I will continue to keep my eyes peeled and my spirit open to the mustard seeds of hope, of joy and faith that God is calling me to cultivate in the world around me.

Quarter Life Crises, Schmuckdom, and Other Neurotic Musings

It’s VOCATION WEEK at Memoirs of Algeisha. No, the vacationwas yesterday, the remainder of the week we will focus on vocation.

In honor of the perfectly punctual quarter-life crisis that has hit me square in the nose, this week I will delve into the topics of vocation, calling, career, faith, trust, and obedience. I will be sharing about my upcoming transition to what I hope will entail living the life of a bohemian bum in Guatemala, my struggle to hear and heed God’s voice in my life, and how I believe ministering to women with eating disorders and serving the rural poor are two sides to the same calling.

If you don’t happen to find yourself in your tumultuous twenties, I hope you can still relate to the search for meaning, purpose, and passion in our careers, homes, families, and friendships.

And don’t worry, I’ve already found some wonderful T.S. Eliot and body image/identity tie ins.

First up, I'll share a little background on how I've viewed vocation, calling, and careers in my own post-college life. 

Allocating Resources or Surrendering Lives?

Straight out of college I made a deal with myself: I would take whatever job allowed me to use my skills to do the greatest good for the poorest people.

For four years, that meant working as a grant writer for international development organization, Plant With Purpose.

When God started calling me away from Plant With Purpose, my pride stepped in. I told God He was crazy. There was no way He could use me outside of Plant With Purpose to do as much good for the poor. By my social justice calculations, it just didn’t add up.

In a fascinating New York Times op/ed piece, David Brooks attributes this kind of thinking to a “vocabulary of entrepreneurialism.”

He writes, “Many people today find it easy to use the vocabulary of entrepreneurialism, whether they are in business or social entrepreneurs. This is a utilitarian vocabulary. How can I serve the greatest number? How can I most productively apply my talents to the problems of the world? It’s about resource allocation.”

Dang.

For better or worse, those exact questions have formed the foundation of my life planning, dreaming, and scheming for the past several years.

I used to think I was wise, strategic, a conscientious compassionate.

But these last few months, God’s been teaching me a new litmus test for my life and my work. And the question is simply this: Am I moving in the Spirit? Am I going where God is leading?

I took my job at Plant With Purpose before I started praying, before I believed the Holy Spirit could speak, before I ever paid attention to God’s leading. 

In the last four years, my heart has changed, my prayer life has changed, my whole way of living has changed. So why am I still operating under the utilitarian mentality when it comes to vocation?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it’s a bad thing to think about impact, to weigh the benefits and consequences of our actions, and to make strategic decisions. I believe we are called to be good stewards of our time and resources, talents and gifts, but who am I to think I know better than God?

In his article, David advocates for an expansion of the discussion around careers, vocation, and community service. David argues that, “People are less good at using the vocabulary of moral evaluation, which is less about what sort of career path you choose than what sort of person you are.”

And this sort of person has less to do with what we do in the 9 to 5 than how we orient our lives. David writes, "It’s worth noting that you can devote your life to community service and be a total schmuck."

God has challenged me to give up my identity as a grant writer, and take on the identity of a follower of the Spirit. To become what Henri Nouwen describes as a mystic, “a person whose identity is deeply rooted in God’s first love.” (Henri Nouwen, The Discipline of Contemplative Prayer)

God is challenging me to become a person who obeys His leadings even when I’m a skeptical of His ultimate plan. He’s challenging me to follow Him to Guatemala even when my utilitarian conscience tells me that it doesn’t add up.

He's given me a chance to show what sort of person I am. Do I trust Him when it doesn’t make sense or do I lean on my understanding?

Even though I’ve been given incredible opportunities to work with organizations doing transformational work while I’m in Guatemala, it still doesn’t add up.

Not yet at least.

But I want to be where He wants to use me, whether it’s raising millions of dollars in poverty alleviation, sharing how God's moving in my life on this blog, or relocating to another country.

As I contemplate vocation, calling, and careers, I want, first and foremost, to surrender even my strategizing to His Spirit. To seek Him first, and, regardless of my occupation, to not be a total schmuck. 

***

What is God calling you to surrender? Can you relate to the utilitarian view of vocation?  Also, please check out the full David Brooks article, The Service Patch.