coincidence?

As I wrote yesterday, I find myself unsure of what to do with my life. I find myself pulled in two different directions, and at least on one level, it is the difference between Vocation and Ambition. In other words, there is something I feel called to do--or, rather, be--and something that I want to do and be, but something which may or may not result in God's glory. As I crawled into bed last night, I confessed all this yet again to God, and I prayed for guidance and wisdom in my quest for what to do. Following my prayer, I began a devotional my little sister got me for Christmas: "Reflecting the Glory" by N.T. Wright. The very first devotional ended with these words (a sketch of Paul's train-of-thought in 2 Corinthians 2.14-17):

Yes, I am called to be an agent of Christ, part of the very body of Christ; and I recognize that I am unfit for a ministry like this. So, as [Paul] will say again and again throughout this passage, the sufficiency he has does not come from himself: it is the gift of God.

These words really resonated with me. Today I had a mentorship meeting with my friend and boss, good ol' Wade, at work. During the forty minutes we had together, I told him that I am a pretty introverted, timid guy. It's part of my personality makeup (INFP all the way, baby!), and the result is that I really dislike confrontation, find it hard to talk to people I don't know, and generally would rather stick to myself. All of this leads me straight to 1 Timothy: everything we know about Timothy tells us that he may have been an INFP or something similar. Paul had to tell him, in no uncertain words, "Do NOT dare to let people walk all over you." He constantly writes to Timothy, giving him encouragement amidst his ministry. One wonders why Paul wrote so often to Timothy? Most of his letters (with the exception of the pastoral epistles) are written to congregations; yet we find four pastoral epistles, two of which are written to this enigma named Timothy. It seems that Timothy was unsure of himself, hesitant, always questioning his ability to do perform the task at hand, to advance God's kingdom and to lead churches. Again and again Paul is there, pushing him along, and we can even taste a sort of frustration in Paul's tone from time-to-time. Nevertheless, despite his timidity, Timothy continues--albeit wrestling and struggling--in his vocation.

I find myself similar to Timothy. I know what God wants me to do. The thing about vocation is that it's not something spelled out on your birth certificate but something ingrained within you. It's something you just know, but something you know differently than how you know your own name or know facts or figures or mathematics. It's a heart-knowing, if that makes any sense. And I know, in my heart, in the deepest part of who I am, that God has called me to something: but I am consistently unsure of myself, always questioning--"Me? Really? Come on!"--, and always trying to find excuses (much like Jonah) to get out of it (perhaps I should remember that big-ass whale; be it metaphorical or literal, it was still one hell of a nightmare). Wright polishes off the section with this statement:

We cannot have a theology in which human beings, whether apostles or ordinary Christians, simply decide that they are going to pin their flag on God's map, and that they will attempt to do something in their own strength, for God. What we have is a theology of vocation and enabling--a theology, in other words, of the Holy Spirit.

Perhaps, at the heart of all this struggling, is my own knowledge that I can't do it. And that's a legitimate excuse made illegitimate by the Spirit: yes, I can't do it; and yes, the Spirit will enable me to do it. If I were able to do it on my own, would it even be considered a vocation? "Who is sufficient for such things?" A rhetorical question with a rhetorical answer: "No one." And alongside that negative answer is the presence of God and the empowerment of the Spirit, not so that I can attain my own dreams and ambitions but so that God's kingdom can advance.