Disciple

It's been an interesting week. I have no idea what I'm doing, but no one really expects me to. I've been doing paperwork, meeting people, and taking the mess that was left and trying to make sense of it.

I came from a system that was very organized, and although my own desk was a disaster area, there was a method; certain things were in certain places, and when they were no longer active they went to a storage area. Wheras I spent my last couple days cleaning up, it was easy because everything was marked for a particular place.

This week I stepped into an office both left completely disorganized and having been recently painted. So it was really messed up. I've reviewed the curriculum we're using and have tossed things that are theologically unsound, while informing the DRE that if she comes across X publication, toss it. She's trusting my judgment, which is very cool. But at the same time, I've also assured her that I'll not be making any huge changes to anything, especially considering I don't know the baseline of what I'm supposed to do! So all that will come. She's new in her position, too.

But something hit me hard this week; the actual call as a disciple of Christ. Yeah, yeah, we all know about it, we're all called, we're all serving, yada yada, yada. Yup, I agree...this is a no-brainer. But it hit me this week. Because I came across some liturgical scripts used throughout the year. Apparently I am the keeper of liturgical rites as they apply to faith formation, so I looked through what I have, being that I'll be directing a lot of that particular traffic in the right seasons. And there it was; the opening Mass last year, where Father asked the Faith Formation people to come up for a blessing, and cited words such as "Called" in the context of "Called to be Disciples of Christ in speaking his Word", and "Called by the parish", etc. And there it was. I was called. I am called. God called me to serve.

Wow.

On one hand, there's a moment of wanna-be pride, but it's crowded out by my terror at being so completely clueless. I can't do anything but shake in my shoes and realize that I'm completely unworthy, not to mention unqualified. I have no experience. I don't know what I'm doing or what my job is. In my professional world, I have never been so completely unprepared and untrained.

God has sent me into my weakness...and He called me there. So on one hand it seems nice to be "favored", but in reality, I see this for what it is; discipline. A call to HUMILITY. Because nothing that is about to happen in the coming weeks will be because of me or my past accomplishments; it's all dependent upon God, because I have nothing to claim. So Pride has no place here because I am now living on my knees in the dirt - which is a great place to be when you need to address the Almighty.

I hadn't realized we'd be called forward for a blessing at Mass, which I appreciate (I need LOTS of blessings!), but what a spotlight, when all I want to do is fade into the background and just do my job. But God holds those He calls before lots of bright lights, and says, "look at my Disciples, my Servants, but not really, because they're pointing to my Glory...and you just get to see if they do it right."

Although the church has Perpetual Adoration, I only visited briefly once earlier this week, and today, I was ashamed for my absence and failure to address Jesus even ONCE every day. I had to make a trip to the parish office and was handed a package for the DRE, the sort that has a plastic cover over a binder, but the bottom was opened, and there were packets of wrapped paper inside that were not part of the binder. It was slippery, noisy stuff, but I was managing just fine.

So, carrying this noisy package, I "heard" Jesus calling me to visit Him in the chapel. Obediently, recognizing this inner voice, I diverted and went in, trying to be as quiet as possible as I entered and shut the door. I knelt on the floor near the door, and just as my knees touched down, the cellophane-wrapped package fell out of the bottom of the binder and hit the ground. Loudly. I cringed, whispered an apology to a amused-looking woman to my right, and while bowing to Jesus, picked up the papers and put them away again. As quietly as possible. Right.

Hi. I'm the new Faith Formation person on the staff. Nice ta meetcha.

I think Jesus was snikering at me.

So there I was, and there I offered him the prayer that came to me during my Vocational discernment, timeless words that no doubt come to EVERYONE who seeks to serve God:

"Jesus, I offer you everything I have, everything I am, everything I have been, and everything I'll ever be."

Today, though, I offered myself to Him through my clumsiness, my cluelessness, knowing my past work experience is useless, knowing my future is a blank page, and speaking through my fears of being inept and incapable.

And Jesus just looked at me, loved me, and told me to trust him. He doesn't care that I'm clumsy, noisy, clueless and inept. He finds those traits endearing in all of us.

And then I headed back to our offices to live out the rest of the day.

God doesn't make mistakes, he can't be taken by surprise, and all he asks is that we follow him. Why is that so hard?