Dear Mentor: Is this all there is?

I love Bronwyn’s writing and her work has appeared at The Well before. When I saw this “Dear Bronwyn” question and her response here on her blog, I asked if we could re-purpose it for The Well’s Dear Mentor column. It is fitting, I believe, for many in our audience.  Thank you, Bronwyn! — Marcia

from guest mentor Bronwyn Lea

Yep: you are in a tough spot. It is a very, very hard thing to feel that you worked so hard to do something that would make a difference, and to be someone who would shine and sparkle — and yet to find yourself with a very mundane ordinary.

How does one make peace with that? I often wondered that of the many refugees I met in South Africa: men who had been surgeons and accountants in their home country, but who had had to flee for their lives, and were now working as unofficial car guards at night in South Africa — hoping for a dollar here, a dollar there. I still wonder similar things about myself: why did I go to law school, and then step it up a notch with another graduate degree in theology...only to find myself a stay-at-home mom who cannot stay on top of her house, doesn't homeschool, but who has ninja-like mom-skills like speed-diapering (oooh!), or parallel-parking a mini-van on a dime (aaah!). Go ahead. Feel free to marvel at my accomplishments.

It is so easy to feel like a failure. So easy to feel undervalued, or unseen, or that your education wasn't worth it, or (its insidious sneaky corollary,) that you aren't worth it. It is hard to feel you really contribute when your contribution isn't in cash. I get that.

When I took a job in vocational ministry and was making less than half of the starter job I had been offered out of law school, it was a little easier to justify the cut in salary because I still felt like ministry was "noble" and "worth it.” The pay cut from that to zero as a mom was much harder. And sometimes, I still struggle with the money side of things — but in truth, I struggle with the "is my contribution in life significant?" issue far more. For some reason, a salary feels like a good validation that your work is worthwhile.

That whole "a worker is worth his wages" verse is a double-edged sword. We use it to justify why people in ministry should be paid, and paid better than they are (because they are worth it!) But the flip side is this: when we are paid low/little wages, we feel like low-worth workers. 

For me, this has been a journey in figuring out what it is that God has called me to. Over the years, I am realizing that he has not called me to be Successful: an Optimizer of all my gifts and opportunities. He has called me to be Faithful: a Steward of all my gifts and opportunities. In truth, so many more of my opportunities are quiet, and unlauded — and the more I find myself in the humble places of life (wiping bottoms, doing laundry, tending fevers in the wee hours of the morning), the more I am noticing how many quiet, unlauded people there are in Scripture, and how God meets people there. He is, as Hagar-the-forgotten learned in Genesis, the God who Sees. 

I'm in a phase of life where nobody sees most of my day. But God does. And his calling to me, I believe, is to be faithful with what he's given me right now. I"m begging him to teach me what Paul talks about in Philippians: learning the secret of being content.

From your letter, it seems like God is already pointing out two things which maybe you've got misaligned. The idea that "being financially successful" or "loving what you do" are the rewards for following God's will for your life are red herrings. It may be true that you become financially successful (but sometimes it won't be). And it may be true that you love what you do (but sometimes you might not). Also, you may find you are really good at something you don't love doing. (For me, this is administrative tasks. Bleuch. But I can get it done if I have to.) Or you love doing something that you're not particularly skilled at (think of all those garage-bands). How we all long for the sweet spot where all those things coalesce. 

I am a sucker for a good Venn diagram. (I just finished reading The Fault in Our Stars, and my favorite part was the Venn diagram). And so, when I saw this blog post from my writer friend Katherine Wills Pershey with its beautiful Venn diagram, of course I had to click on it — because it depicts truth so beautifully.