by Audrey West

This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. There is so much to do, and there’s so little time!

Some people jump out of bed at daybreak, eager for another day filled with exciting possibilities: activities to energize their spirits, friends to feed their souls, commitments to express their passions.

Others are more sedate in their approach to the morning, easing into it with a quiet cup of coffee or a leisurely reading of the daily news, yet still looking forward to whatever the day might bring.

Still others experience the dawning light with a sense of dread for all that must be accomplished, all the chores that must be done before the sun sets in a wearying cycle of days, seasons, and years.

I recall some years ago when I found myself situ­ated squarely in that last group. I had a job I loved that involved long hours and frequent and extensive travel. In my spare time I coordinated the youth ministry pro­gram at our church, sang in the choir, participated in a community action program for underprivileged girls, and did my best to stay in touch with my extended family on the other side of the country. I understood each of these activities to be a part of my vocation: God’s call to use my gifts in service to God and other people. Still, I found myself wishing that God would quit calling quite so much.

One afternoon between trips, exhausted as I con­templated how I would pick up groceries, fix dinner, and still make it to church to meet with a room full of exuberant teenagers, I stopped by my friend’s office, hoping she might suggest a strategy for managing all the responsibilities I was juggling. She listened to my to-do list, smiled, and asked, “So which of those things is God calling you to stop doing?”

Reality check

My friend knew what I was too exhausted to see: It is nearly impossible to embrace the day, much less to rejoice in the Lord, when we are overworked or over­whelmed. As responsibilities expand and the calendar is crammed with more and more activities, it is easy to be snared in the trap of believing that once we mark a few more tasks off of the to-do list, we’ll be able to respond to God’s call. Take the children to school: check. Plan the committee meeting: check. Volunteer at the library: check. Shop for an elderly parent: check. We work our way through the lists, but the tasks seem never to end. For every item crossed off, two more magically appear.

Martin Luther understood that each person is called to multiple vocations (or to a single vocation with multiple expressions). That is, by virtue of her relation­ships, one woman’s vocation may be as daughter, sister, farmer, and friend, while another shares some of those same callings as well as vocations as parent, scientist, and caregiver. Luther’s insight is grounded in the radi­cal affirmation of the priesthood of all believers, that is, the notion that God calls everyone–not only the clergy–to respond to God’s gift of grace. We respond by living lives of service to God and to one another.

There is freedom in this call, particularly freedom to respond out of the unique constellation of gifts received by each person. As Apostle Paul so aptly reminds the Corin­thians, “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone” (1 Corinthians 12:4–6). We all are called, but not all of us are called in the same ways.

However, in a dominant culture that values individual effort and hard work, there is enormous pres­sure to take on greater responsibility in order to demonstrate one’s value as a productive member of society. The ideas of gift and freedom get lost in an economic climate that makes it necessary for many people to work many hours or take multiple jobs simply to keep food on the table. These cultural pressures may lead us to believe that we need to prove our worth before God or to feel that “it’s all up to me.”

Even as our lips confess that God already saved the world through Jesus Christ, our actions suggest otherwise as we struggle to take care of that expanding list of things to do. Perhaps we even begin to resent God for calling us in the first place. Please, Lord, there is so much on my plate already. Can’t you call somebody else? In our hearts we long to join the prophet Isaiah, saying, “Here I am, Lord, send me,” while in our heads we add, “just don’t make me go anywhere.”

Saying Yes by Saying No

In the story of the exodus, Moses, that great leader of God’s people, finds himself in a similar predica­ment. In his effort to fulfill God’s call, he nearly burns out trying to take care of everything and everybody–including the task of settling the disputes that arise as the Israel­ites journey through the wilderness. His strength is renewed only when he follows his father-in-law’s advice to hand over to others a sizeable portion of his workload so that he can focus more effectively on the core of what he is called to do (Exodus 18:13–27).

The Book of Acts recounts a similar situation in the early church, when there was more to be done than the apostles could handle. After Jesus’ death and resurrection, the apostles were unable to fulfill their particular calling to spread God’s word if they were also engaged in the distribution of food (such as, “in order to wait on tables” [or keep accounts], Acts 6:2). Both tasks were equally important, but the apostles could not do everything themselves. So they asked the church to select seven people who were “full of the spirit and wisdom” to be appointed to one task so that the apostles could devote themselves to another (Acts 6:3–4).

When we feel led to respond to God’s call in a particular way, it is worth asking whether our yes to this call signals a time to say no to something else.

Slowing Down

There came a time in Jesus’ earthly ministry when he called the 12 disciples and sent them out into the cities and towns, where they proclaimed the gospel, cast out demons, and healed the sick, even as Jesus himself had done (Mark 6:7–13). Anyone who has traveled away from home knows that it can be exhausting enough simply to be in a new location, and even more so when job responsibilities are added into the mix. Jesus must have known this too, for when the disciples returned and reported all they had experienced, he did not simply congratulate them for a job well done and send them back out to do more. Rather, he invited them to take a break: “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while” (Mark 6:30–32).

There were still plenty of people who needed healing, and even more who had not yet heard the gospel, but now it was time for the disciples to step back from that calling for awhile in order to be refreshed and replenished. As we respond to God’s call, it is worth asking ourselves whether it might be God’s desire for us to slow down, as the disciples did, or to seek help, as Moses and the apostles did. If nothing else, we can seek support through prayer and the counsel of others in order to discern our faithful response.

Pray First, Act Later

In all of the gospels, and especially in Luke, Jesus frequently takes time for prayer. He withdraws from the crowds and sometimes even from his disciples in order to pray alone (Luke 5:16; 9:10), and he prays before major turning points in his ministry, for example, at his bap­tism, and before choosing the 12 disciples. These prayer times are not always peaceful and quiet. At the Mount of Olives, before his arrest, Jesus acknowledges the ter­rifying reality that awaits him in the crucifixion, praying in anguish that God would “remove this cup” (Luke 22:42–43).

For our part, when we feel like God is asking too much, or if we do not know for certain whether a particular call is really from God, it is time for prayer: time to cry out, to question, to rant and rave, to be honest with God about whatever we are feeling and whatever we need, to seek God’s wisdom and clarity, to align our desires with the desires of God.

Through prayer we let go of the false belief that everything is up to us, and open ourselves to awareness of what God is already doing. Perhaps we will hear anew the promise that Jesus gives, his invitation to “come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Perhaps we will recall that this Jesus, who is called Emmanuel, is “God with us” (Matthew 1:23), and that the God who cares for spar­rows cares also for us (Matthew 10:29), even (especially!) when we are frustrated, confused, or over­whelmed.

God is Calling—Now What?

My former neighbor, Mary, belongs to a church with an intentional ministry with and among the poor. Recently the pastor announced a need for additional volunteers to serve in the church’s homeless shelter, and many of Mary’s friends responded by signing up for regular shifts to serve food and hospitality to the shelter’s residents. Mary, however, was unable to make that commitment. Not only was she helping to care for her terminally ill father, she also had a job that required long hours and significant leadership responsibility. She sim­ply did not have the time or energy to do what the pastor had asked.

At first Mary felt guilty. But then she realized that volunteer­ing in the homeless shelter was only one way to respond to God’s call to feed the hungry and serve the poor; indeed, there were many ways to serve. Mary could donate canned goods to the food pantry or collect toiletries for the shelter’s residents. She could hold the volun­teers and shelter residents in prayer; she could make a point of greeting homeless people with a smile when she passed them on the street. She could teach her children compas­sion and vote for city leaders who would attend to the needs of home­less people in their community. As Mary let go of needing to respond in only one way, she discovered many additional options that felt right for her in this particular sea­son of her life.

Whatever is God’s call for us, and in whatever circumstances we find ourselves as we discern how to respond, perhaps Apostle Paul has the best advice:

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplica­tion with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understand­ing, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:6–7).

Audrey West is the author of the award-winning 2004 LWT Bible Study, “Everyday Surprises: The Parables of Jesus.” She has served most recently as visiting associate professor of Lutheran Studies at Yale Divin­ity School. She lives in Bethlehem, Pa.