Miscopalians

Mimi and I met at Orca Books a few nights ago. She's Orthodox, and worships sometimes at the mission that meets upstairs at St. John's. She told me this story: They were there at the same time as the Midnight Mass. Her nine-year-old son really likes talking. She asked him to be quiet, so they wouldn't disturb the Episcopalians. "What's an Episcopalian?" She tried to explain the belief systems. Then they went downstairs for something. Xavier saw an usher. He asked his mom, "Is that a Miscopalian?"

I told her to tell him that his Miscopalian aunt says hi.

We sat on a rather uncomfortable couch in the bookstore, and talked for a long time. Then we prowled the shelves. I paged through The Best American Spiritual Writing, and ended up buying it. Here is the first paragraph of the first essay, titled "The Gift of the Call" by Christopher Bamford:

The call comes gradually, or so it seems. We must be called over and over before we hear its whisperings. Then we begin to notice. We begin to respond. Unconsciously, hesitantly, we start to listen. Incrementally, our response deepens. Finally, we realize that we ourselves are the call; that call and caller are onein life lived in obedience to the gift of the call. We come to realize that we were called from the beginning, "from the foundation of the world," as Saint Paul says. Looking back, we cannot remember a "first" call.

I forget to listen, or I get distracted and other things speak louder. But this rang true for me. I'm going to explore that idea more, when I get back to California and my life there. I'm flying back on Monday, and I won't have class for almost a month. I'm going to consciously schedule time to take walks, write, listen, and just to be with God. To dig down deep into the roots of this longing, and then when I get busy again, to hold on and not let myself let go. This call--wherever it leads me--is the reason behind everything I'm doing. In it is where I need to be.