I think that it should be easier. That things should fall into place as I want them to. Once I had made the leap of faith, things should just be what I had hoped, right?

How about wrong.

The days have been stretching me. Moving from our home to this place has been harder then I had thought. I had hoped my restlessness could be contained, that my need for being settled wouldn't be so great, and all the things that I had been struggling through would be gone. I knew that these things don't magically disappear but I guess I had hoped vainly that they would.

I realize that this last year has been one of deep wrestling, with my hopes, desires, and the unknown. My wrestling has not produced answers but only more questions. I have read an enormous amount of books, written pages upon pages, and had many attempts to try and find where I am to be in life.

Nouwen writes that "The question is not how many people take you seriously? How much are you going to accomplish? Can you show some results? But: are you in love with Jesus... In our world of loneliness and despair, there is an enormous need for men and women who know the heart of God; a heart that forgives, cares, reaches out, and wants to heal."

I know that there are whispers being said to me. Something far greater then I can imagine, but I am unsure of what is being said.

"What is next?" I keep asking myself. The question echoes through me again and again. When I am paging through religion textbooks, grading lesson plans, holding babies, and writing.

Can knowing and understanding your calling be this difficult?