Growing up in church and in a Christian school setting, I always wondered to what big things God would call me. My school kept a pretty decent rotation of visiting Christian speakers, and they all had amazing stories of overcoming the "big sins" and choosing to follow Jesus. They had all gone to do great, big things, it seemed. I needed a superpower. I often wondered how I would ever develop a love for Jesus if I continued to follow the rules. I know that sounds silly, but as a kid, my faith seemed to be so quiet -- I remember feeling, even into my adult years, that my faith was dismissed simply because I had the same basic spiritual beliefs as my parents, and I never really rebelled against that. Surely, God would call me to something big. I loved Him and obeyed Him, after all.

I fell in love at 17, so naturally I started dreaming about what God would call us to do together. Maybe we would be missionaries, or maybe we'd adopt 10 special needs kids and save them from the perils of state facilities. Maybe we would start a hugely successful nonprofit together. Or maybe I would find some way to serve God through travel photography, because that was certainly different and fun.

I finally realized, at some point in between getting married at 21, and having 4 kids over the next 9 years, what all of these idealized callings had in common: they were very fitting for my Enneagram 7 personality, and they were things easily SEEN by others. Being "called" to do such big things would not be hard for me, like they surely are for some people. They required no unattainable superpower. I love uprooting and spontaneously going on a new adventure. I don't mind being the center of attention (holla, middle kids everywhere). I love giving any sort of speeches or presentations. And I love the idea of starting new businesses from scratch. None of those things are bad at all -- In fact, God gave me those gifts and they all work on service to Him when I use them appropriately. But, God is calling me to something that -- for my personality -- is very difficult. He does this with people doesn't He? Moses comes to mind first. (He was probably an Enneagram 9, but God made him act like an 8.) God has tasked me to the invisible, quiet work of motherhood. That is my big calling, at least for now. It requires a superpower for sure: a cloak of Invisibility — something I don't have without His help, and something that I wouldn't naturally choose for myself. He is not asking me to travel (hello, pandemic). He is not asking me to give speeches at Christian schools telling young kids how to find Jesus like I did. There are so many big things that I've concocted in my head that I would love to do for God and for others -- But if an act of service that I want to do would be a big disservice to my family, then today is not the season for it. Maybe there will be a season for me to accomplish some of the things I'd love to be doing now. But today is very clearly my season to look inside the walls of my house for His calling -- which is less like audible words, and more like a mom-gut feeling.

My job is to be a little bit invisible right now, and be creative with ideas for service -- Look for ways to serve with my kids instead of all by myself. Things like sending cards, care packages, and meals are the quiet ways we have been able to serve safely during the pandemic. Teaching my children the joy of writing letters, cleaning up after oneself, and anonymous service.

Through the stillness of quarantine, I have been given the gift of what I call my "mother worship time." Worship does not happen on a stage for me -- it happens when I choose laundry over watching a movie, cooking dinner for my family even though my back hurts, APOLOGIZING after I lose my temper (this happens way more than I'd like to admit). Most of the time, no one sees mother worship. You don't see a freshly cleaned floor after someone dumps legos on it. No one hears me talking to God in my head, asking for patience, thanking Him for what we've been given, or trying to memorize verses. I know my calling looks small to the world. But I'm not invisible to my Creator, and my identity is in Him; Not in the temporary worth giving by a worldly stage. I wish I could go back and tell my kid self that you don't need a big turning point moment to fall into a meaningful relationship with Jesus -- you just need time to find Him in the beauty of the mundane. I know I can't be the only one who feels this way. And I won't say "I see you," because maybe I don't. But we aren't home yet, and our invisible work here is not in vain.