Nov 30 2019 Isaiah 49: 1-6

The Lord called me before I was born, while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.
There’s something about this idea that God called me, by name, well before I had any awareness of me. I am intimately known by God, and God had a plan for me, before I had a plan for me. This is comforting, and a little daunting, at the same time.

On the comforting side, I definitely don’t have all the answers, despite my best attempts to come up with them. When I don’t have the answers, I try to convince myself and others that I do. But I don’t. There’s something nice about God having a plan for me, even when I don’t. Perhaps it’s true, God only knows . . .

On the daunting side, it feels like a lot. It feels like the worst kind of pressure. Sort of like the child whose parents expect her to go on to be a major league soccer star, or astronaut. It’s a lot of pressure, to have to live up to someone else’s big expectations. What if I can’t?

The past few days have felt like a lot. We had some friends over for Thanksgiving dinner. It was lovely to host, something I haven’t done for nearly a year, between a new town, new home, new life, and now sick loved one living with us. We had a wonderful time, and our loved one sat in the kitchen all day, chatting with us, commenting on the progress of the preparations, and making a collage of their future plans.

But once our friends arrived, our loved one started a running monologue, peppered with non-sensical, rude and vulgar comments. It was mostly easy to ignore, or to move into another room. But as they spun up, getting increasingly agitated, it became clear that our evening was over. We had gotten to the wonderful pumpkin pie, though so the evening was only a little truncated. Our friends were very understanding.

Since then, our loved one has broadcast their life on social media, calling us out by name, and commenting that we are not helpful. Meanwhile, many people watching this live broadcast are trying to find out who our loved one really is. They’ve figured out their ‘real name’, and found pictures, and found our town. Comments vary from supportive and loving to investigative to mocking. Me, and 1000 of my closest friends watched this live broadcast.

God knew me and called me by name in the womb. Really? This is what I’m supposed to manage? To live with and love? How in the hell… Some days, it feels like the same kind of parental pressure kids must feel. External expectations that far outstrip internal confidence.

God knew me and called me by name in the womb. The feeling of a lack of confidence wanes, when take to heart the rest of this reading from Isaiah. I am honored in the sight of God, and God has become my strength. Maybe I cannot manage on my own, but I am not on my own. God has known me from the womb, and called me to precisely where I am. 

  

This morning, I’m thinking about how to skip the sense of personal inadequacy, and jump to the fact that I am not alone; I have been called to this, and am not alone.

One of our friends from Thursday night said something that I must remember. Amidst the angry and scattered comments coming from our loved one, she thanked us for inviting her over for dinner. She seemed at a loss for words, at how to describe our dinner. Finally, she said that this felt like holy time and sacred space. It is, and it is daunting. But I am not alone.