“Do you have something to ask me?”
I can hear the smile in his voice, the knowing. Of course I have something to ask him, and of course he would know that. I fidget at my desk for a minute. I add one more thing to my to-do list, a reminder to email my professor later about our upcoming final. I click the pen open and close a few times. I doodle on the edge of my planner. He doesn’t clear his throat. He waits, patient as always. He lets me take my time.
With a sigh, I push away from my desk, twisting in my chair to face him. He’s seated on my bed, one hand cupping his chin. He looks at me expectantly. Still waiting. I open my mouth, close it, and open it again. I suddenly picture myself clicking my pen open and close, open and close, just like my mouth is doing now. It's a funny mental picture.
I laugh, and he smiles again—kindly, warmly, and I feel foolish for hesitating for so long. “How do you know that you’re...called to something?” I ask.
He takes his sweet time responding, not as long as I took. “Think about what you feel called to do,” he says. “Does the idea of doing it make you happy?”
I think. I imagine myself in a little church office surrounded by all my books, cozying up with a cup of hot cocoa and a biblical commentary, ready to write a sermon. I imagine myself ministering to others and visiting parishioners in their homes or in hospitals, joining them in the most joyous times of their lives and in the midst of the most crushing times. I imagine breaking the bread and pouring the wine. I imagine all these things, and I feel joy dancing within me.
“Yes,” I say simply, because what more is there to say? I say it with laughter, and yet my eyes fill with tears. This is the strange joy I feel: Strange and magical and wonderful, so strong it makes my heart soar, so powerful it brings me to my knees, so beautiful I want to cry because I’m that happy.
“Then,” he tells me, “you are called.”
This is how I like to picture my conversations with Jesus. They aren't the wordiest things around; there's more than plenty silence. They're mostly feelings. They're special moments. They mean a lot. Anyway, I know this is a much different format than how I usually do things, but I hope you liked it. Peace be with you.