Come Walk with Me

Many thanks to readers who commented on my post, The Price of Success. You gave me much upon which to reflect, including some ideas I had not considered, as I pondered how to respond to the fact that my job, as I know and love it, is going away. Not that I wanted this job to begin with. No, this job was God's idea, not mine. However, I have since made the job mine. I realized that when I learned that the job would take on such a different character.

I thought about a number of approaches I could take, and leaving was right up there at the top of the list. I noticed that some folks worried that I might leave; well, they'll cope, I figured. Of course, they would. But that is not the issue. I have been their scaffolding, and removing scaffolding all at once instead of bit by bit can cause even the most beautifully constructed buildings to collapse. I was not thinking of that, though, in the latter days of last week. I was not thinking of anyone's collapse except my own. I was angry, too, in some ways. I have spent four years building this division from a ragtag collection of people trying to learn to do international work to a pretty highly respected set of departments that has more than doubled in size since I came and is set to explode by fall to 350% of what it was. Although I was told that the split was being occasioned by success, not failure, there was a part of me that considered the split a vote of no confidence even though logically and by everything that has been said to me I know that is silly.

I also wondered where God fit into all of this. He sent me to a job, then let the job be fractured and me shunted off to work with only a portion of the projects I had developed -- and for someone to be placed above me who would do the international negotiating and representation while I made sure that the work got done well. Unfair! Or was this a sign that it really was time for me to move on? Had I completed my task? Early on, I was getting no answers to my pleas for clarification. Or, if I was, I was unaware. I am not good at subtle discernment. I need that conk on the head kind of of clarification.

I got it. A gentle conk. Friday evening as I was driving home from work, still distraught and again begging for guidance, I heard a gentle "Come walk with Me." Huh? It has been some time since I have taken my nightly walks around the mission. I have been coming home later and later from work (that growth and success has demanded more and more of my time) and have been too tired or had too many other chores to accomplish. I have missed them, those quiet times with God, just walking and talking, walking and listening, and walking in silence. Of course, I will come walk again, especially when coaxed in that gentle manner which I felt in the words, "Come walk with me."

And so, when I reached home, I grabbed something to eat, then put on a light jacket (summer evenings in our part of California are cool, even cold), and headed out the door for that walk. It felt so good to again be in that Presence in the twilight hours when there were few sounds and little light to distract me from enjoying the Company. I walked and walked, and I was not alone for any of that walk. Finally, I understood. Whatever the purpose for me to take this job four years ago, there is a purpose for me to retain it now. I don't know whether the two purposes coincide, but I do know one very important thing. I had been asking all the wrong questions, looking for the wrong kind of guidance, reasoning through the situation with the wrong kind of logic. You see, I thought the issue was about me -- what I should do, where I should work, what kinds of goals I should have, how I should respond. I learned on that walk that it is not about me at all.

It's about those will be most affected. It is about the nervous newbies whose hands I have held, the heavily burdened have used my open-door policy to bring family and personal matters to my attention and seek support and advice, and and the junior managers have looked to me for mentoring. Someone else will have to do that now, but who will facilitate the transition if I do not stay and do that? It is about the department that was planned to be broken apart -- I have already been able to snuff out that plan. It is about the department planned to be transferred to a division head who would derail its success and growth for reasons of lack of knowledge and the skills to continue its support -- I have already been able to get it transferred to another division head instead. I would like to have kept these departments. They were two of my favorites, and their successes have been outstanding. Now two of my peers will oversee the continued success of these projects. Sigh! My ego would like to feel injured, abused. But my ego does not have a role here. I insist that my managers use a servant leadership approach. So must I. In that approach, there is no room for the ego, and so, too, my ego must be pushed aside for the sake of those who need my help.

As for the long run, we shall see what happens. Two years remain until all the transitions are complete and I get "demoted" into reporting to an intermediary and not directly to my current boss, before the new guy gets to handle all the glory and I get to handle all the problems. There may be options in the long run. There are usually options. The critical thing is what God wants from me. I think I can rest assured that if I start to stray again from the path He would have me take, I will get another call to "Come walk with Me."

Blest Guest Wednesday #1: Stand Back and Let God Work (Anne Bender)

Since early August, it has been difficult for me to post regularly although I have somehow managed not to let more than a few days go by between posts. Considering that my crazy travel schedule is definitely going to continue for a few more months, I have come up with an idea for bringing a little sanity to the blogging part of my life: ask for help. For that reason, I am asking some fellow bloggers to write posts for me on Wednesdays, hence the name "Blest Guest Wednesday." As today's "Blest Guest," I asked Anne Bender, who writes a blog that I follow closely: Imprisoned in My Bones - Releasing My Inner Jeremiah. As you will see here, she has several children; two of her sons are considering the priesthood. Her stories are uplifting and insightful, and I thank her for the touching one she wrote for today's post. (Oh, the image of a priest's hands is hers, too, and can be found on her blog.) Here is her post:

When things seem really bleak, and I feel full of worry and stress over little things, God always seems to find a way to pull me out of myself and remind me of the important and meaningful things in life. It seems to me, that his favorite way of doing that is through my children. When I’m aware of how He works in this way, I can only stand back and let the tears of astonishment overflow from my heart and fill my eyes.

Jack is ten years old, and will be eleven next month. He is in the 5th grade. But to me, I can’t ever imagine him as anything except a sweet and innocent little boy and I’m amazed every time I realize that he’s growing up so fast. He was born with developmental apraxia of speech, but we didn’t realize he had this disorder until he was two years old and wasn’t talking. The apraxia means that in his mind, he knows what to say, but something breaks down between his mind and his mouth, and the words don't come out, they stay kind of stuck in his head. It was extremely frustrating for him. So, just before he turned three years old, he began speech therapy, and he continues to require this weekly service. Of course, he really speaks very well now and most people can understand him and don’t even realize that he has this disorder. I am most aware of it when he is sick or tired and that's when his speech becomes more garbled and difficult to understand.

Jack works very hard to overcome this difficulty. Most of the time he is a very quiet boy and he easily disappears in our loud and unruly family. When he is stressed, he can barely express himself except through tears. But when he is relaxed and happy, he can turn into a real chatterbox, especially if he is talking about the current sport of the season. I always thought that God gave Jack the gift of athleticism to compensate for his speech difficulties. As he began his school career, I worried that he would be teased because of the robotic way he spoke and that friends would be few and far between. But Jack found a way around his speech difficulties by bringing a ball of some sort to school every day. Other children always gathered around him to play and he quickly became quite popular. Nobody cared about whether or not he spoke well because he was fun and kind. He included everyone in his games and shared well with others.

Whenever the talk of future careers would come up in our household, Jack always spoke of a career in sports that is typical for most boys. Whether the season was football, baseball or basketball that is the sport he wanted to play as a professional when he grew up.

Until last year, that is. Then Jack started expressing an interest in the priesthood. I didn’t pay too much attention thinking he was just copying his older brother John, who is feeling called in this direction. And when I would watch him fidget in church, constantly checking his watch to see how long the Mass lasted, I would completely disregard the possibility of priesthood for Jack.

I like to visit the Seminary Library, and when I’d take Jack with me, he began to ask the librarian for books about the priesthood. She would apologize to me because she didn’t have much on the subject for younger children. I always said, “It’s ok. He really doesn’t read much anyway, you’d just be wasting your time hunting some down. As soon as we get home, he’ll be outside playing instead of quietly reading, because that’s what Jack does best.”

But this week God had a surprise for me. Jack had an evening with a few hours unattended while the rest of the family was busy with other activities. He told me that he spent that time looking at our Seminary’s “Think Priest” website. I smiled and told him what a good boy he was and that I was glad that he was interested in that, and then sent him off to bed. I didn't give it another thought.

Last night I received a phone call from our Associate Pastor. Fr. Dennis asked me if I knew that Jack had sent him an email. (I didn’t.) He told me that Jack had complimented him on his All-School Mass Homily and then said that he wanted to be a priest. Fr. Dennis said the email surprised him because Jack never says a word to him in person, he won’t even crack a smile, but rather is always very serious.

I went outside to find Jack racing up and down the street on his scooter and told him that I wanted to talk to him. He immediately assumed he was in trouble for something and the tears began. I assured him that he was not in trouble, but that I just wanted to spend some time talking with him. He sat on my lap and I asked him about the email to Fr. Dennis as I wiped his tears away. He said yes, he had sent it. He also sent one to our Pastor, Fr. Dave, our friend Fr. Don, who is the Rector at the Seminary and to Mr. Wisniewski, the school principal. He said he established his own email address and told all of these men that he wanted to be a priest and was wondering if they had any tips for him. He took me to the computer screen and showed me his list of sent emails, and there they all were, just like he said.

Now it was my turn to cry. My mind raced with questions. Could God really be calling two of my four sons to the priesthood? What moved Jack to send these emails without telling me his intention? Will this desire for the priesthood last or is this just a phase that he is passing through? Does God really send the call to priesthood to such young boys?

I watched him closely at Mass this morning. I saw him fidgeting with the eraser that was in his pocket during the homily. I saw him looking intently at Fr. Dave during the consecration. I noticed him smile and wave at Fr. Dave during the sign of peace. My heart is pondering the wonder of it all, but I know that all I can do is stand back and let God work. After all, Jack has always been His child, long before he was my child. In the end, it will be God’s will that wins. It will always be God’s will.