Send Me

I have a complicated relationship with Sundays. I don’t hate them, but I don’t love them either. Sundays can be delightful, filled with family and friends, or favorite activities such as bike rides, kayaking or the tail end of a road trip. On the Sundays I go to church - especially when it is followed by brunch and a nap - all feels right in the world. And while they aren’t necessarily my favorite things to do, I even enjoy wrapping up my laundry or cleaning the kitchen before the start of a new week.

That’s where my Sunday love ends because Sundays also hold the anticipation of the work week. My job is demanding and often stressful, but I am thankful for it. I have smart, creative and kind colleagues, and I work in an organization that is making a difference in teenagers’ lives.

Yet 10 years in, and I feel like life has become somewhat stale. I go to work, do the work things, come home, make (or order) dinner, chat with my children and my boyfriend, clean up the kitchen (maybe), and then do one -- or some combination -- of the following: drive my son to soccer, watch a show on Netflix, go on a walk or read until I fall asleep. The next day I do it all over again. I say these things at the risk of sounding ungrateful and spoiled. I assure you that I am so very thankful for my relationships and that I have a happy, healthy family. But I wonder if I’ve somehow stalled.

I used to live with greater intention, but I’m afraid I have fallen victim to skepticism. I wonder if all really matters. I’ve talked to a few of my fellow mid-life peers and I suppose it’s not uncommon for us to feel this way. We question if our lives are making a difference. We wonder about our significance in our workplaces, in our homes, and in our relationships. And ultimately we worry that maybe we will be stuck in the day to day drudgery for the rest of our lives. 

The other morning, I decided I needed to set my intentions differently for the day. I was sick of letting the days happen to me so I turned to my source of comfort and inspiration. I opened my Bible app and the verse of the day was Isaiah 6:8: 

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”

And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

I nearly laughed at how relevant this verse was at this very moment. Not only that, but it reminded me that twenty some years ago, when I attended a spiritual retreat, this verse was the focus of our theme song, and I had turned it into my life’s mantra. In 2016, we sang it at my dad’s funeral since he had also attended the same retreat. But somewhere along the road the song faded. (You can read the lyrics here. https://genius.com/Dan-schutte-here-i-am-lord-lyrics)

When I read the verse and recalled the song, it all came rushing back to me. God asks who will go love his people, who will hold their pain, who will be light to them. And that morning, I stopped wallowing in my existential crisis and said, “Here I am, Lord. Send me,” just as Joshua answered centuries and centuries ago. That morning, I recalibrated and went to work with renewed passion for the work I had to accomplish, but more importantly for the people who would cross my path. Honestly, it wasn’t a huge change but the slight shift helped me understand that for now, in this season of life, this is where God has put me.

Today, as my son Eli and I were running errands, he read a quote from an email he had received from his university. “The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” (Nelson Henderson) 

That! That, my friends, is what it’s about. But it’s not easy and it often feels like so little to just plant the seed.  These students I see each day may never know my name or remember my face after they receive their diplomas, even those to whom I have become close in their four years of high school may never come around again. But I’m going to trust that I am sent to love them for “today”. I may never see how they grow or what they do with their lives, but today for the students, for my co-workers and for my friends and family -   I will hold your pain. I will celebrate your joy. And most importantly I will try not to become so (lowercase) agnostic that I forget to be a light when all you see is darkness. 

I know the days may still feel mundane, especially when I start comparing my life to others I know or see on Instagram or Facebook. Maybe I will always question whether my life has made a mark, but if I turn from comparisons, and move out of this idea of what I’m supposed to DO and instead focus on who I am to BE, I have a feeling that the drudgery will turn into sacredness.