Pressure

 

"God must have something for you to do.  He must not be finished with you yet," said the dear friend to the widow.  With sincere compassionate eyes and a heart to back them up.  With a swing at this-may-or-may-not-be-good theology.  But with sure intent to comfort.    

"There must be a new calling on your life."

"Ok."  I'm waiting.  I'm looking.  I'm willing.  Am I missing it?  This new calling?   Will it descend from Heaven like Jesus coming on the clouds?  Will a preacher speak directly to me during his sermon?  Will I read it in a paragraph from a library book?   Is it to be a librarian?  A missionary?  A never-in-a-million-years somebody?

The pressure is on.  

Should I make plans?  Should I fill out applications?  Should I alert the prayer chain?   Should I fall to my knees in prayer myself?  Morning noon and night?

The pressure is on.  On top of sorrowing, on.   The pressure to find my new calling because God must not be done with me yet.  

And then, from nowhere (ok, somewhere, but an unexpected somewhere) God said to my heart, "All I want from you and for you, the something for you to do is... to love Me.  That is your call." 

Whewwwww!  I can do that.  I can love You, Lord Jesus.  With everything I am, I can love You. 

The pressure is off.  I can stop waiting and wondering and searching.  I am smack in the middle of His call.  Love God, Kath.  Just love Him.  The pressure is off.