Did you expect that your life would look like it does? Did you imagine that you would marry earlier, or marry someone different, or not be still single? Did you imagine children in your life, when you have none? Or none where you have plenty? Did you imagine that you would be a missionary but you are mechanic? Or a production manager and you are a priest instead? Isn’t it interesting the journeys that God takes us on?

When I was little I wanted to be an Eskimo. I just thought they were really cool. I had a comic (not sure which one) that had a character in it called Ella who was of Innuit-type lineage. She wore a great coat with just the right amount of becoming fur, trimmed tastefully around the edge. She had sassy fur-lined boots and a wonderful sledge. Come on! What’s not to like when you are four?

But God knew that perhaps being an Eskimo wasn’t the greatest use of me. He also knew that being a nurse wasn’t for me either. I’m not at all squeamish. But I can’t tell the time. Nor can I work blood pressure cuffs, add up or use maths in any capacity. I have the scientific knowledge of a goldfish with dementia. My bed-side manner is fine, but my leaving bed-side manner is not-so-fine. I would spend all day with one person and forget the rest of the ward.

So today I’m glad that I am not an Eskimo, or a nurse (and I’m sure the NHS is heaving a collective sigh of relief too.)

So what am I?
Well that is a blooming tricky question to answer. And it depends on who you ask. Some people would call me a mummy, others a wife, a sister. I am a daughter and a daughter-in-law. I am a teacher. I am singer. I am a preacher. I am a writer. But none of that defines me.

My assignment is not my confinement. Nor is it my definement. The same goes for you. You may be a pharmacist, or a footballer, a fire-officer or a farmer. But that is not who you are. It’s just what you DO.

The thing is, I am who God needs me to be today.
Yesterday I did a bit of writing and made a huge pan of soup for my builders. (A cookery writer?)
Today I am a child-minder for a friend’s baby.
Tomorrow? Who knows?
I have given up trying to label myself.
I always do it unsuccessfully.

My definement is not about in what I do, but in who I do it for. What about you?

“May all your expectations be frustrated.
May all your plans be thwarted
May all your desires be withered into nothingness.
That you may experience the powerlessness and poverty of a child
and sing and dance in the compassion of God who is Father, Son and Spirit.
Amen.”

“”Brennan Manning, Closing Prayer