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[In my earlier post, I linked to a Blogger post I had made. Blogger is being obnoxious, so I am copying it here.]
A friend of mine was ordained to the Episcopal priesthood last week. The rector of my church just left a very comfortable position in a well-established church to move his family all the way across country, to a new parish that is younger and looking for guidance.
I've never understood calls, not really. Oh, I've understood them at an intellectual level, but not what it must feel like to actually have one. I've known people who had them, and not just clergy: I am married to a man who knew very early that he was to be involved in the space program, who viewed it as a responsiblity to the future of the human race.
It must be nice to have a mission, I thought, as I gamely said "You'll be away six weeks in Spain for field work? Sure! Christmas in Antarctica next year? I've got your back. Don't worry. The kids and I will be fine." (Antarctica has not happened, not yet -- funding sources are erratic things.) People who are called to do work -- whether God's work in the church or in other ways -- sometimes baffle the rest of us, who lack such clarity of purpose.
And then came this book. At first it was a silly exercise in self-esteem -- see? I can do something other than drive kids to school and make lunches too! -- but it has metamorphosed into something else. First it was "I'm entertaining people -- this is a good thing." Now it is "I am educating people, hopefully." Somewhere along the line, I started telling stories of people that need to be told.
There is still a lot of fluff. It's a trivia book, after all. But in among the fluff are the stories of Charles Drew, and Rosalind Franklin, and the Hollywood Ten, and the Ft. Pillow Massacre, and the Ghost Dancers. Of Alice Paul. Of the Greenwood riots. Of the St. Bartholomew Day's massacre. Of how the Japanese were allied with the Russians, and hence the Brits and French, in W.W.I. Of Guernica.
I want people to be amused and entertained. But I also want them to be challenged. And if, somewhere, someone says, "Gee, I wish I knew more about that," and reads more, or if the story of Alice Paul makes them think twice before cavalierly deciding not to vote, then maybe it will have done some good.
Of course, this all supposes that I can get this published, which is a very big supposition. But I have to finish it. I just have to.
I am called.
A friend of mine was ordained to the Episcopal priesthood last week. The rector of my church just left a very comfortable position in a well-established church to move his family all the way across country, to a new parish that is younger and looking for guidance.
I've never understood calls, not really. Oh, I've understood them at an intellectual level, but not what it must feel like to actually have one. I've known people who had them, and not just clergy: I am married to a man who knew very early that he was to be involved in the space program, who viewed it as a responsiblity to the future of the human race.
It must be nice to have a mission, I thought, as I gamely said "You'll be away six weeks in Spain for field work? Sure! Christmas in Antarctica next year? I've got your back. Don't worry. The kids and I will be fine." (Antarctica has not happened, not yet -- funding sources are erratic things.) People who are called to do work -- whether God's work in the church or in other ways -- sometimes baffle the rest of us, who lack such clarity of purpose.
And then came this book. At first it was a silly exercise in self-esteem -- see? I can do something other than drive kids to school and make lunches too! -- but it has metamorphosed into something else. First it was "I'm entertaining people -- this is a good thing." Now it is "I am educating people, hopefully." Somewhere along the line, I started telling stories of people that need to be told.
There is still a lot of fluff. It's a trivia book, after all. But in among the fluff are the stories of Charles Drew, and Rosalind Franklin, and the Hollywood Ten, and the Ft. Pillow Massacre, and the Ghost Dancers. Of Alice Paul. Of the Greenwood riots. Of the St. Bartholomew Day's massacre. Of how the Japanese were allied with the Russians, and hence the Brits and French, in W.W.I. Of Guernica.
I want people to be amused and entertained. But I also want them to be challenged. And if, somewhere, someone says, "Gee, I wish I knew more about that," and reads more, or if the story of Alice Paul makes them think twice before cavalierly deciding not to vote, then maybe it will have done some good.
Of course, this all supposes that I can get this published, which is a very big supposition. But I have to finish it. I just have to.
I am called.
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Entertained and challenged is the way to go. Good luck!