Discernment Woes

Discernment can be a terrible thing. A wonderful, terrible, not-to-be-missed-in-this-lifetime kind of thing. As I enter my third year of what's called "testing your vocation" I sometimes have to laugh. Out loud. The alternative would be crying, and although I no longer wear make-up that would run like Tammy Fay Bakker's (anyone remember her?) I still get a red nose when I cry. I actually get one when I even think about crying, which is embarrassing enough. So I laugh.

One time my best friend and I watched the movie "Howard's End" and when it was over, we sat in the lobby and laughed ourselves silly for more than half an hour. Taking turns, we'd get ourselves under control just long enough for the other to start the sequence again, and then we'd roar. I've no doubt blocked it out, but I probably wet my pants from so much laughing. Whatever unconscious nerves that movie touched, they were way too dangerous to face head on. But they couldn't be ignored either. So we laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more.

This week has been a bit like that: roller coastering all over the place emotionally, and watching myself do it… and laughing.
Here's a recap of my ping-ponging for the past week: Several days ago in a fit of desperation I went online to look for a job in my old field. And found one. Oops! Two nights ago I was railing over my loss of independence… the ability to decide things for myself without having to take a whole community into account. The next day the decision I would have made on my own was handed to me on a golden platter, and I was embarrassed. (Lack of faith?) Last night on the subway I was approached by a young woman with demanding questions about my faith. In answer, I told her I had no doubts about God, but many about my capacity to commit to that God. (I guess I feel if some stranger wants to ask an honest question, I should give them an honest answer.) But my glib tongue came back to haunt me later when I couldn't sleep. Just why is it I'm not able to commit? Sure I'm in a restless phase. Been there before. Why do I keep fantasizing about life possibilities I deliberately turned my back on… several I deliberately retreated from for all the best reasons. And why did I retreat? They weren't enough. Yet at times this life is too much. Go figure. Testing a vocation is not like any testing I've ever done, and I'm closing in on sixty. When I think of who I was ten years ago, five years ago, and who I am now, I realize God was pretty astute to wait so long with me.