And the scribe said to him, “You are right, Teacher. You have truly said that he is one, and there is no other besides him. And to love him with all the heart and with all the understanding and with all the strength, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself, is much more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” And when Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” And after that no one dared to ask him any more questions.
God, what’s your will for my life? I hounded God with the question as a highschooler, envisioning some sort of supernatural insight regarding majors and careers.
The reply he gave was frustrating at first. To love me and know me, he repeatedly said.
It was as if, standing at a fork in the road, I asked God what turn to take and he said instead, let me show you how you can always find the North Star.
Without a doubt, his answer has changed the course of my life.
A man speaking to Jesus asked a question of similar nature to mine. What is it that God wants most?, he wanted to know. Your heart, your soul, your mind, and your strength, Jesus replied. For you to love him. And after that, for you to love others. (Mk. 12:32-33)
Here is Polaris.
I am needing to reorient myself these days because I’m hitting the same slump I did after my other kids. Inching (or barreling, how is it that it feels like both?) towards the 12-month mark of sleep-depriving infant care, the one year slump is different than the initial exhaustion of newborn days. I recognize it by my restlessness. It’s just a season, Jeff said recently about my being at home with our young kids. It’s a LONG season, I said back. The force of my reply both betrayed and surprised me, but the sentiment isn’t unfamiliar.
During my first year as a stay-at-home mom, God reworked my paradigm of productivity, fruitfulness, and service in God’s kingdom. I wrestled with living this strange disconnect between what I felt was true (namely that my work as a mom was valuable) and what I had up until then heard about what it meant to live a life unto God’s glory. But once I understood the vocation of motherhood was a calling to love little neighbors, I parented with purpose. I woke tired with long days ahead of me to the refrain, Love God, love neighbor.
Days caring for young children are full and repetitive, yet can feel frustratingly futile and impossible to schedule. Now that my youngest is becoming more independent, I feel the desire to do more. At the same time, my body feels the cumulative effects of sleep deprivation and the reality that baby girl still needs me a lot. Not only so, but there are school schedules, commutes, and other non-family related circumstances that seem to run my days. Thus, my restlessness and frustration. I want to have more energy, time, capacity for other endeavors. I want to feel fruitful and be passionate in service. Instead, I feel like I am stuck and fizzling out.
I know it’s not just in motherhood where it feels circumstances and seasons keep us from living fully unto God. We can be constrained, it seems, by singleness, by marriage, by children. We are limited in our ability to do God’s will, it feels, because of our job, location, church, and health. Different circumstances would give us a better shot at glorifying God, but we are just our limited selves, living within the boundaries set for us. And life keeps us from doing all we wish to do for him.
But what if the greatest commandment really is his greatest call for our lives?
If in all things, what God desires from us is love for him and others, our current seasons and circumstances are not constraints. Rather, they are the terrain we have been called to walk through as we trek northward.
Of all the possible points and places in history we could be in, God has determined our here and now. Scripture says he has assigned each person’s exact place and time so that we may reach out and find him (Acts 17:26-27). And having responded to this most important calling of our lives (to be reconciled to God), wherever we are, we can remain with him (1 Cor. 7:24) while walking into the good works he’s prepared for us in advance to do (Eph. 2:10). If where we find ourselves is right where he wants us, and what he wants for us most is to love him and neighbor, we are actually wondrously free to accomplish all he wants for us to do.
I remember when Jeff first taught me how to find the North Star. It was surprisingly simple: Find the Big Dipper. Follow the line from the outermost stars in the bowl to the tip of the Little Dipper. It may not be the brightest light in the sky, but there lies true north.
So, this is real time, two of my children asking me to read a book to them as I attempt to write? The baby shifting from arm to arm and on my hip having just woken up from a nap? These texts and calls that keep cutting off my train of thought? If I take a moment to reorient myself, I’ll confirm these as trail markers on the road of God and neighbor-love.
Here is both the orienting call on my whole life and the simple task ahead of me. And though it feels like I’m barely trudging along right now, looking up, I know I am northbound.