I am married to a midwife. If that isn't a calling, I don't know what is. She works harder than almost anyone I know - her hours are long and unpredictable, and she is always on call. She is quite literally responsible for people's lives, and so the work is stressful, hard on her body, hard on her mind. Sometimes she goes days without sleep. I don't know how she does it; I never could.
But it is so clearly her calling. She catches babies. She ushers other human beings into the world. With her hands. I am in awe of her every time I think about it.
Frederick Buechner describes a calling as "the place where your deepest gladness meets the world's deepest need."
I tell stories. It is my deepest gladness. And I believe the world needs stories. Stories teach us how to live; they insert us into complex moral situations and help us think our way out. They act as an escape valve. They allow us to imagine, and reason, and reflect, and change. They have existed for all recorded time, and they persist. They fill something in us that can't be filled in any other way. We need them.
And so storytelling is my calling. It is not quite so impressive as helping new life into the world, admittedly, but I think it reaches toward the same primal instinct: to live. To carry forth.
I feel called. Do you?
One month. 26 posts. A to Z. (Don't know what I'm talking about? Check out the Challenge here.)