“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.”
—Howard Thurman

Many of us grew up with the concept of a “calling”. For some of us, it was a sense that our ideal career path would feel like a perfect fit, as though we had been nudged by every academic decision toward a destiny prearranged by the heavens. Our best gifts and talents would find their fullest expression in our life’s work, and our greatness would be easy to see.

For others, “calling” was understood in a strictly religious sense, that God had a plan for each person, and that our task was to listen really hard to hear what that calling was. For some, the calling was heard by someone else, an authority figure such as a religious leader or a parent, and given to you with the understanding that their wisdom was sufficient to guide you.

The gold standard of call stories is the story of Samuel, the Hebrew prophet who, as a child, was awakened in the middle of the night by the voice of God. And I don’t want to deny that some people experience a calling with just as much certainty as Samuel. While I can’t say that I heard the voice of God calling me to the ministry, I can say that it was an idea that, once it got under my skin, became so loud and so obnoxious that I felt I had no choice but to respond. It was less a still, small voice in the night, than the whine of a persistent mosquito!

It’s easy to admire those who know from childhood how they want to serve the world, and seem perfectly equipped from birth to do so. Most of us, however, have to flail about for a while, trying things, failing at them, trying something else, driving everybody around us crazy while we figure things out. What we sometimes lose sight of is that this, too, is work. This trying and failing is one way that we are listening to the world – gradually removing, one by one, the barriers to knowing who we are.

What if the question isn’t about what kind of work we are suited for, but rather, what sort of work will allow us to get out of our own way and serve the world with generosity and joy? What kind of work frees us from the cycles of endless self-examination, to observe the world around us and its suffering? That is true calling: it’s not a voice from above, but the voices all around us, asking for help. It’s noticing that we are all trying to get free, and the only way we get free is by helping one another.

Thurman says that the true guide is “the voice of the genuine in yourself”. I believe that what is truly genuine in each of us is our common humanity, our common struggle to be who we are. Each person we meet, no matter how strong or “together” they seem to be, is carrying a heavy load, and longs to share it with someone else. When we are able to share our load with someone else, and help them carry their load, we find our true calling. My wish for you this year is that you will find part of your calling in our community of hope and love, and that you will be fulfilled in this work we are doing together.