To the Death

For a long time now I have struggled with the question of what has God made me to do.

I’ve listened to Beth Moore, and she did many things before she found her thing, but she had mentors and people who helped direct her path when she finally got there.

I have served in a lot of capacities, and my calling does not seem clear, and no one has said this is the way – walk in it. I’ve taught children both Sunday school and Vacation Bible School. I’ve written bible study materials, led bible studies, taught women, baked cakes and goodies, written encouraging cards, and just listened. I’ve felt led to missions, then to write and speak, to orphan ministry, to church plants. I did the room mom thing – not my strength. I tried to organize a contributor blog – again, I failed. I actually appreciate the failures because they show me what not to do.

If you feel tired reading my attempts at service, never fear, I find myself a walking enigma. As spring and then summer draws near, the year of shmita draws closer to its end, and I feel like there are so many “coulds” – things that I could do. I could start a women’s supper club. I could be secret card encourager. I could be the bake person. I could help with orphan ministry. I could help start a new church. I could homeschool my kids. I could do a number of combinations of these things. I could… but what should I do?

My (in)courage writer’s group is ending soon, and I’ve finished reading Annie Dillard’s “A Writing Life.” The last chapter was about a pilot named Dave Rahm. He was a pilot that also performed in flight shows, and according to Annie, he had a special gift for it. He knew how to fly a plane to his and its limitations and succeed in a way that created beauty, art, and showmanship. Of course, as Annie illustrated in her book, crop dusters all know that they will bite the dust performing their life’s work, and so Rahm did as well. He died performing a flight show for King Hussein.

Today as I ponder my gifts, I ask myself the question the last chapter of “The Writing Life” surmises in its prose – “What would I be willing to die doing?”

I don’t anticipate a throng of followers in whatever it is I do, yet I know that those who are passionate and willing to push the limitations of their work usually do have multitudes following them, because of their very willingness to die for their craft. We are attracted to the passion in others. Sacrifice and willingness to fly to the limits (perseverance) are what set them apart from the crowd. Sometimes I must admit I’ve looked to the measuring stick of success to see if a particular service is my gift, instead of my own passion and sacrifice.

My dad died while on the job. To be fair, he died doing something he loved. Those left living don’t always appreciate this kind of dying, but I am reminded of a line from my favorite movie, “Anne of Green Gables,” where Anne has forgotten to put the cheesecloth on the plum pudding sauce, and a mouse drowned in the it. She said,

“Well, I suppose in the end it was a romantic way to perish, for a mouse.”

This week’s writing assignment was to explore risk taking in our writing. I’ve meandered away from this to explore the question of dying and finding calling. I often think of myself so plain in my pursuit of living that my words do not feel risky enough. I love recognizing the risky writing of others. An old high school acquaintance of mine, Robin, wrote about the gay agenda, and this week, my bloggy friend, Rebekah, wrote about the way she’s being hounded by church people who don’t understand her journey and told them to defriend or unfollow her. I don’t know if my beliefs or journey lines up with either of these women, but I admire their willingness to risk it all and when I read these type posts, even if I disagree in whole or in part, I am happy because I know they are free! Wildly and abundantly free.

I don’t know if writing is that thing I’ll do passionately and freely. If so, I’m still exploring the edges and trying to make beauty, but wherever God leads, I want to be willing to go whole hog, living passionately, sacrificially, and freely. In the end, I suppose it will be a romantic way to perish – to the death.

What would you be willing to die doing?