A Song in the Night

"He did not spend his life for the people because he was a parson, but he was a parson because the church of England gave him facilities for spending his life for the people." - George MacDonald

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

This is the question every kid is asked numerous times throughout their childhood. The question has a little bit more of an edge when asked of a senior about to graduate with a degree in "liberal arts" or of a 26-year-old using his master's degree to work at Starbucks.

My husband and I have asked ourselves this question over and over as we have encountered the various forks in the road that came with marriage, having children, job changes, church changes, etc.

What do we want to be when we grow up?

When I decided to attend seminary, I felt completely confident that I was on the right path. I wanted to be a "marrying, burying" pastor. I wanted to oversee a church that would welcome people in for both the major milestones in their lives as well as the day in and day out stuff of living. I wanted to pick a place and live there for the next forty years until I retired. And then, presumably, I would retire there. I wanted to spend my life for people.

As Anne Lamott says, "If you want to make God laugh, tell her your plans."

I think I thought that spending my life for people would somehow be whimsical, evoking tears at times, laughter at others. I thought it would have some kind of soundtrack in the background--something like Lord of the Rings, a combination of dramatic runs and peaceful melodies.

I think the composer of my soundtrack is temporarily on hiatus.

What I am hearing instead is the gentle breeze of beautiful red, orange, and yellow trees on a fall day. The peaceful stillness of a sleeping baby. The echoes of laughter and music from the evenings spent listening to Southern Gospel and dancing with the baby.

It's possible that when I wanted to spend my life for others, I really wanted to spend it for me. I wanted it to look and feel a certain way. I wanted to decide what I would "be" instead of just allowing God to decide who I am becoming.

I pray this day for grace to spend my life for the people standing in front of me and for grace when I fail in those efforts. I pray for attention to the opportunities I have and the fulfillment that comes with seizing those opportunities--whether it is accomplishing a task while the baby is sleeping or being okay with accomplishing nothing. I pray that I would hear the notes of the soundtrack around me and recognize that the future day of being "grown up" is here and now, and this is, in fact, who I am.

"A brown bird sang on a blossomy tree,
Sang in the moonshine, merrily,
Three little songs, one, two, and three,
A song for his wife, for himself, and me.

He sang for his wife, sang low, sang high,
Filling the moonlight that filled the sky,
'Thee, thee, I love thee, heart alive!
Thee, thee, thee, and thy round eggs five!'

He sang to himself, 'What shall I do
With this life that thrills me through and through?
Glad is so glad that it turns to ache!
Out with it, song, or my heart will break!'

He sang to me, 'Man, do not fear
Though the moon goes down, and the dark is near;
Listen my song, and rest thine eyes;
Let the moon go down that the sun may rise!'

I folded me up in the heart of his tune,
And fell asleep in the sinking moon;
I woke with the day's first golden gleam,
And lo, I had dreamed a precious dream!"
 - George MacDonald