Not Pridefully Nor Begrudgingly

I went to Mass today at the hospital where I am now employed. It's a very small congregation that shows up for that, and at the beginning of his homily, the priest decided to ask everyone what their job is, or was. He is one of the Nigerian Franciscan University students, so he didn't personally know anyone there. He was applying this information to the reading from 1 Corinthians, so it really didn't come completely from left field.

But it sent me for a loop. I was the third person in order of answering as his eyes went around the room, and the question left me mentally scrambling. I believe I actually said I don't know out loud before I answered: A Mom. 

There's some irony in my fumbling, because in part it brought me back two years to the day, to the beginning of my Spiritual Direction program. There, as I shared meals with my new associates, the topic often gravitated towards "What do you do?". I wrote a few blog posts or reflections on this very experience of suddenly needing to pull my identity into a neat descriptor.

Today, though, I could have said I'm a chaplain, because I am. But my mind fumbled through how I'm on-call though, so maybe my job is waiting for the phone to ring. But I also sell books. I also drive for Wingz. I'm also a spiritual director. Do I pick the one that earns me the most money? Which one has my identity? 

Perhaps because the people in front of me were retired, my mind raced towards what I used to do full time. So it came out, I'm a Mom. 

I could have said, "This question is too complicated," because that's what I felt. 

But I listened to his homily unfold. He spoke of a job as an obligation God gives us, to be carried out willingly and not pridefully. Able to listen to others. Able to receive correction or suggestions from others. Not wishing you could just check out and go home. 

And at the same time, what was unfolding in my head is how I have defined my sense of "job" since I started looking for one in my early 20s: Being Me. 

It's not about being paid a lot for this task (I never have). It is really about my deepest desire, and something I am really only beginning to own. 

And then what was forming in my head met his homily, and my eyes got a bit watery. 

[Being Me] is an obligation God gives me. I am not to carry this out pridefully (and I've done that -- pride is really about masking pain). And I am not to carry this out begrudingly, or unwillingly as St. Paul puts it. 

You know, I'd been asking the Lord to help me get ready for a good confession, and I think this spears it right in the heart.  

There have been times I've thought about how I would be willing to give a kidney to a person I know who actively hates me. Absolutely, I'd be first in line to be tested. But to willingly and ungrudgingly embrace all that is entailed with being me? To refuse to muffle, silence, oppress, reject, deny the creation of God that is me.... ooh. Wow. An obligation God gives me, huh? That's pretty intense.  

Yeah, I'm gonna have to think about that one some more.