God’s call for us can be ever-changing

“If you could have your dream job, what would it be?”

This question tangles me up. My heart trips over my brain. Is the work I engage in 40-plus hours a week what I do or who I am?

My postgraduate vocational journey has been both illuminating and heartbreaking since completing a Master of Arts in Christian practice at Duke Divinity School in 2020. As my cohort wrapped up our final term, COVID-19 was sweeping the world. Our entire social structure was upended. I remember my pastor using the word “unmoored” during a sermon. I could not find a more appropriate word for that moment — unmoored collectively and individually, disconnected and adrift in this new way of being.

From the beginning, our hybrid cohort had thrived on community connection. We gathered on campus each term for intensive weeks of study and fellowship. We developed genuine, holy friendships. But in our last term, after the pandemic began, our cohort was unable to gather or participate in a graduation ceremony. It was the strangest imaginable solo ending to two years of tight-knit, elbow-deep theological work with friends.

Toward the end of my coursework, I was working with the Interfaith Food Bank in Clute, Texas, while pursuing diaconal orders within the United Methodist Church. The food bank directors and I had exciting plans to serve our community through education courses ranging from changing a tire to applying for financial aid.

The board of directors began creating a new position for me — community education director. My mission in this role would be to connect people living in poverty to local resources and opportunities. I would serve as a bridge between church and community. It seemed I had landed right where God wanted me.

Unfortunately, the impact of COVID-19 was so extensive that we had to cancel all in-person community education classes. Suddenly my new role disintegrated. I felt unmoored. Unsure. And a little bit undone.

Fredrick Buechner defines vocation as “the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Prior to ministry work I was an elementary teacher. I love children. They are hilarious, honest and the right amount of weird. They think I am a good singer (I am not), and my snack schedule aligns with theirs; every three hours will do. After discerning my call to ministry, I thought my time in the classroom was over. Silly me. A series of wildly devastating and Job-like experiences led me back to the classroom, where teaching has led me back to myself.

In his book, “Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation,” Parker J. Palmer says, “Vocation does not come from a voice ‘out there’ calling me to become something I am not. It comes from a voice ‘in here’ calling me to be the person I was born to be, to fulfill the original selfhood given me at birth by God.”

I am my most authentic self when I am teaching. Maybe it is teaching 6th grade science, a painting class for community members, a CrossFit class in my gym, or a Sunday school class of wiggly 6- to 10-year-olds. I feel my best when I am doing the work of a teacher, no matter the context.

After completing seminary but not landing a career in full-time ministry, I thought I failed. I wondered if I misunderstood my calling. Why did I get a graduate degree in Christian practices only to go back to teaching in public school?

But I have witnessed the fruit of my time at seminary in my classroom.

Students come to me to pray with them. I have been invited to lead colleagues in prayer. When my students are testing their boundaries (and mine), I can offer more grace and patience than I would have before I attended seminary. The classroom is my ministry.

Vocational calling is not about titles, accolades or organizational affiliations. It is about honoring one’s selfhood as created in the image of God. Maybe “the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet” is indefinite. The place shifts and changes. Our gifts and gladness may lead us to new places of need many times in our lives.

There is a common thread of dislocation and mission in Scripture. God called Abraham by saying, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you” (Genesis 12:1).

Gideon was harvesting wheat and hiding from his oppressors when God called him to be a warrior: “And the Lord turned to him and said, ‘Go in this might of yours and save Israel from the hand of Midian; do not I send you?’” (Judges 6:14 ESV).

Nehemiah was serving the king as cupbearer when, through prayer and fasting, he discerned YHWH’s call to leave his esteemed position and work to restore Jerusalem (Nehemiah 2:12).

Mary was preparing for marriage to her betrothed when she received God’s life-altering call to become the mother of God’s own son. The angel told her, “Don’t be afraid, Mary. You have found favor with God. You will become pregnant, give birth to a son, and name him Jesus” (Luke 1:30-31 GW).

Peter was probably enjoying a normal day of fishing with his brother when Jesus called to him: “Follow Me. I will make you fish for men!” (Matthew 4:19 NLV).

I used to cling to the idea that longevity in the same career was the measure of success. My perception has shifted to something more curious and less absolute. The location and context of my ministry can change, while the mission to expand God’s kingdom remains constant. I am finding peace in knowing any place that nurtures and expands God’s call on my life is the dream job.