In 2011, following the Nashville flood and downturn in the economy, in a time of uncertainty in my life, I prayed to God, “What do you want me to do?” God responded, “The question is not, ‘What do I want you to do?’ The question is, ‘Who do I want you to be?’” For me, a good sign that God is speaking to me and not just my own voice echoing in my head is when my questions are answered with another question. Apparently, The Socratic Method is not dead with God.
I thought for a minute. Carefully considering my response, then I asked, “Okay, who do you want me to be?”
Silence. No response. No answer. Three months. Six months. Longer, still waiting and left with the question, “Who am I to be?” For a year, I tried being good, competent, successful, effective. I tried being like Jesus, which in my mind, somehow meant being ‘nice’ to everyone even though few perceived Jesus as ‘nice’ in the gospels. I even tried being like Old Yellar, yes, the dog from the Disney movie, loyal, faithful, defending his family, sacrificing himself. I tried being anything and everything I could for about a year. I failed repeatedly at many different things. “Who am I to be?” went unanswered.
After a time of too long silence, God spoke, with another question. “Do you know who I want you to be?” “Not a clue,” I replied. God said simply, “Here.”
“Here?” I asked. I did not understand. In all the things I’d thought to try and be over the previous year, all the roles I thought my congregation and my family needed from me, “Here” never occurred to me. “Here?” I asked again.
“Here,” God replied. “You are everywhere but here.”
God’s challenge to be “here” was not about an address, or a location. “Being here” was about being present in the moments of my life. God’s accusation was accurate. I was many places in my mind, seldom was ‘here’ one of them. I embodied the ancient proverb, “People live their lives like an arrow shot into the air, so busy thinking about where they came from worried about where they might land that they miss all the heavenly glory around them.” I was carrying past pain and trying to prevent all future problems. I brought so many expectations to each moment that I clouded my perceptions of people and experiences. I recognized my challenge to be present and the work it would take as Henry David Thoreau encouraged,
