On Being Called (and how I wasn't)

*Writing this, I sat in a park and watched butterflies, stink-bugs, and the sky. It's a beautiful day!

People often talk about being called. About how they have or haven't been called to this, or how I have been. This talk of "call" always makes me feel like an impostor. I haven't been called. Or if I have, so has everyone else. Quite honestly, I think the idea of "being called" is quite silly. I won't discount the incredible stories of people who have received clear messages from God to go somewhere or do something. He certainly can and does use incredible ways to get ahold of people. Indeed, sometimes we need a bit of convincing.

I do not have, by human standards, one of these stories. I simply went on a whim, fell in love, and went again. There was one sentence I heard when I was in the process of deciding whether or not to return to Hungary (in 2013) that swayed me. It was just that, "the need is the call." And oh, my friends, the world is full of need.

I believe that there are many different ways I could go, we all could go, many different paths on which God could use us. And God doesn't need our help. I wanted to go. And He either wants me to go, or is graciously allowing me to.

I wonder if sometimes we use "the call" as an excuse not to walk. But the truth is, that Jesus said to go. I know that God can redirect me as I walk, and I invite Him to do so, but I want to be walking. Certainly, we do not all walk in the same way, in the same place, at the same pace, or with the same people. But I think as Jesus' followers, we are all sent. We're all to be in the business of bringing hope.

It's not fair, my friends, to pretend that I am called and others are not. I'm not special. I'm not, without Jesus, qualified. At all. I don't have any special skills. I don't pray constantly. I'm a pretty poor lover of people, but I'm His.

I do not refer myself as "called," because I think we're all in that boat. I'm simply walking. Let's walk together.

In the morning,

memories of you exhale into

dawn’s light and leftover fog.

Still you cannot see.

Climb up,

step through.
My bones are for you.

(excerpt from RIBS by myself)

real.life.

moose pajama'd boys

The Super Moon

Mama's Book club

hand-written letters

flowers in every room

generous neighbors

cricket sounds

cool air

wearing long sleeves all day

french braids

open windows

i'm happy, yo!

"poetry, like the moon, advertises nothing" -william blissett

Significance

I have a friend named Beezy. (Not her real name, but it works well for a blog.) Tomorrow, she embarks on a yearlong journey of life in the city of brotherly love. I’m beyond excited for her. I think she’s brilliant for doing this instead of something “traditional” right out of college. (Me, I’m sitting in my bedroom licking envelopes and stamping stamps. But that’s beside the point.) Anyway, I’m excited for her. She knows this. However, I didn’t start this blog post to talk about my excitement. I started it to talk about the significance of her leaving.

A few things rushed into my mind when we said goodbye and I hung up the phone this morning.

The first was, HERE WE GO. Graduating college was a significant transition. Leaving a life of independence in my college town and moving back home with my parents was certainly a significant transition. There were other things too: milestones of driving, a friend getting married… And now, Beezy leaves for the beginning of her mission, her sending, her journey, and I stay for the beginning of mine. Here we go, because she is, in my mind, basically going to another country, not because of the distance, but because of the limited communication and drastically different experiences. Here we go, because we have begun. I’m staying back home to raise money, but it is nonetheless part of the mission, the sending, the journey. Here we go, because we have chosen the hard, narrow, slippery road, and here it is before us. We have chosen the hard places. We’ve chosen the challenge.

and Here we go, because though I dearly want to see her before I move to Rome, there is a possibility that I could leave before she gets back. Though the mountain to get there seems far too large to reach the top by my goal of next summer, it is a possibility.

I guess what I’m trying to say, is that my chum is leaving. I’m excited for her, but more than that I am keenly aware of the significance of her leaving. She’s going, and I’m preparing, and then I’m going to go too. And that’s significant.

Hap Hap Happy!

In typical Phoebe phasion, I need to go to bed. But suddenly my joy is too bubbling for that!!

So, some ramblings, perhaps?

Today I went to the grocery store (because I go there every day- I'm serious) to buy asparagus (because I forgot them), eggs, and yogurt. I went through u-scan and I took. my. time. It drives me bonkers that people are in such a rush! The woman in line behind me actually took a few steps in my direction, instead of patiently waiting at the beginning of the line. So she was sort of crowding me. I mean, I still had plenty of space, but she was crowding me with her rush. So I looked over my receipt a few times, slowly gathered my bags, slowly picked up the basket, slowly walked away. I think part of u-scan is that one shouldn't have to rush. I could have stayed there for hours if I had wanted to. I wish people could just take a breath and realize that going to the grocery store might take a few minutes.

Later, I drew Peebs and Geebs comics on the deck while the evening sun lingered, and then I received some great encouragement, and made some super fun plans.

My day was productive and is ending with joy.

Italian, skyping my pal, Kim, working on support letters. I ran out of stamps! :)
Plans with Asheebs, lovin' Geebs and Beebs, sunshine and waitin' for fall.

God is giving me people and things to fill my time.

Favorite things of evenings

taking my hair down after it has been up all day, and it is soft and smells light, holding soft waves.

walking into my room (in the summer) after it has been closed up all day, smelling the old, and opening the window to let in the night air.

the warm glow from a lamp.

finding boots, "good quality but wrong color for me" from my mother sitting on my bedroom floor. WHY YES, I will most certainly take them off your hands! I don't know enough about fashion to know if they are my color or not, to me they look simply brown, and elegant-- oh, I cannot wait for fall.