I struggled earlier this week not so much about whether I was called, but wrestled with what I was called into. And on Monday, I wasn't so sure I could endure this pursuit of my Master's of Divinity degree. Yes, the work, the theological concepts thrown at you and just the transition into this particular graduate program is just that heavy. Or at least it can be, particularly because it is on a much higher level of any graduate program. Here, you're trying to make intellectual sense of one who can not be fully explained within the contexts of the human mind.
I mean, he calls himself, "I am." How do you wrap your brain around that?
Of course the thought crossed my mind to maybe leave the program -- but only for a split second. I mean where was I going to go? It's not like I could go back to my old life, lest I lead one of unfulfillment. At the time, I just felt that I had to get the hell up out of here. But like the child running away from home with his little sack thrown behind his back, who only travels as far as the curb in front of his house, I too had no other place to run, save to the curb and stairwells of Candler.
So here I sit, pondering and praying without ceasing for the Lord to bring me through. I'm only about a month in and got three years to do.
But I was reminded last night and today of what it really means to accept this call. First and foremost, it means releasing my will for my life to do a greater work that only God knows I will do. It means availing myself to the journey and what it will reveal. And it is a calling I must submit to daily as I'm subject to waiver back and forth on whether I am willing to go the distance.
Today I am, but there are other days, I'm not so sure. And that's because the burden is so heavy and the responsibility so great. I'm caught in that space as one theologian describes, the confusing nowhere of in-between.
But around Candler they say this is normal.