What am I doing with my life?
It's a daily question of mine.
They say your 20s are a natural time of existential dread. The quarter-life crisis or so it's called. Seems a little presumptuous.
Whatever the preferred nomenclature may be, I'm in it.
As a kid I remember wanting to be a pastor. I can remember telling people that I wanted to be a pastor. I watched my dad be a pastor, a good pastor. I thought to myself, "Just do your best impression of him and you'll be fine."
If only I could go back in time and punch that kid in the face. I hate that guy. He had no idea what he was talking about. No idea what he wanted.
I've never, ever felt at home in my professional calling. I don't know why. I can't explain it to you, but being a "Pastor" feels like a costume I put on every week.
Don't get me wrong:
I like costumes! Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, specifically because of the costumes! I just don't like this costume.
The suit doesn't fit. The whole thing smells. And I hate the way the strap from the mask feels on my ears. It gives me a headache.
This role makes me feel less like myself than I ever have before.
Some of you may very well say, "Believe me, Jeff, that's not such a bad thing."
I am far from perfect. I know this. I am not the father I want to be. I am not the husband I want to be. I'm not the son, or the friend, or the neighbor I want to be.
But I'm working on it.
I'm not the pastor I think I should be. I never will be. I'm certain that I'm not the pastor many people had hoped I would be. But the truth is that I cannot possibly live up to all the convoluted expectations that people have for their pastors.
I knew that before I took the job.
This post isn't meaning to suggest that being a pastor is somehow the worst job in the world.
[It really isn't. I know it's an honor. It's a privilege to teach people about Jesus. It's a privilege that people trust me to help them understand the Scriptures. I take it all very seriously.
And I am extremely grateful to the congregation that I've had the chance to serve. I love them.]
Nor should you read this and think, "Jeff's gonna quit his job."
To be sure, there have been points in this job where it feels like I'm experiencing a spiritual breakthrough. Moments where I start to think that maybe I have found what I have been looking for... Maybe now I understand God's great plan for my life! Maybe this is my calling! Maybe I should stop wishing to punch my child-self in the face for all his wide-eyed optimism and naivety.
The feeling never lasts.
What am I doing with my life?
I really don't know.
It all feels untenable.
I'm trying to be "faithful". But I'm no longer sure what that word means in this context!
Am I less "faithful" to my life's "calling" if I no longer serve as a pastor in a church? I'm not convinced. If I work any other job, and if I do that job to the best of my abilities, is that somehow wasting the gifts God has given me?
I've been told for so long that the way to serve -- as a young man in the LCMS -- is to become an ordained minister. Hours and hours of study, years of school, multiple moves, all to wind up (existentially) exactly where I started. Deep discontent, lots of dread, and the feeling that the thing I'm looking for is just out of reach.
Maybe that thing just needs to die. I'm reminded in my line of work that death and Resurrection are the name of the game.
Maybe I'll be a pastor forever. But probably not
All that I need to be I already am - Father, husband, friend, brother, son.