Have you ever wanted someone to explain your life purpose? Have you craved an answer for the internal longings that remain unfulfilled? Do you find yourself wishing you could discover what you were really meant to be doing - and pursue life with the passionate view of the world you imagined as possible? Who doesn't? When I think of these questions, I'm reminded of Dorothy on her search for the Wizard of Oz. She followed a path that would lead her to the one who would show her how to get home. Like Dorothy, I have often craved a guru-like representation -someone who has significant wisdom to help me on my journey. Without this assistance, I can get mixed up trying to decipher the map I've been given; I want someone to point me in the right direction when I come to a crossroads.

Thankfully, Mr. Guinness showed up.

Not the infamous Irish beer master, although there have been moments when that particular Guinness would have been a welcomed comrade. I'm referring to Os Guinness and his book, The Call: Finding and Fulfilling The Central Purpose of Your Life (Word Publishing, 1998). Allowing someone unfamiliar to offer assistance regarding your future doesn't come easily. I've been pretty skeptical about books on calling or vocation. These types of books seem to find their way onto the shelves of bookstores where unsuspecting sojourners seek a quick fix to the timeless questions of purpose. Because I have found that there is no quick fix, you can imagine why I might not choose one solitary book to curb my quest. In spite, I felt a bit like Dorothy taking her "yellow brick road" to the wizard; hopefully the words in this book would help me find a way home: the purpose of my life.

The main focus of the book is to argue that our "purpose can be found only when we discover the specific purpose for which we were created and to which we are called. Answering the call of our Creator is the 'ultimate why' for living, the highest source of purpose in human existence - apart from such a calling, "all hope of discovering purpose will end in disappointment" (4). Guinness defines calling as "the truth that God calls us to himself so decisively that everything we are, everything we do, and everything we have is invested with a special devotion and dynamism lived out as a response to his summons and service" (4).

Devotion is something I identify with but purpose met with dynamism hasn't always been the case. I only need to reflect on some of the less than ideal jobs I've held. These were often done as a means for survival but I didn't necessarily engage them as part of my calling. Guinness highlights that early on in his Christian life he was nearly swayed by others to head toward spheres of work they believed were worthier for everyone and right for him. If he was truly committed they figured he should train to be a minister or missionary. Guinness invited me to embrace the idea that (using the words of Kierkegaard) "The thing is to understand myself, to see what God really wants me to do; the thing is to find a truth which is true for me, to find the idea for which I can live and die" (3). Yes! That's what I want - but how do I find that thing for which I would live or die?

I guess sometimes I expect the "Good Witch" to provide me with the red shoes that when clicked three times will take me to my destination. But the red shoes never seem to show up. In working through this search for "something I'd stake my life on", I realize part of the problem lies in the fact that I am constantly distracted by things that masquerade as images of a call worth dying for but in fact, aren't remotely close to the call itself: doing the "right" things - those things that media or well-meaning friends suggest are more valuable than actually listening to and obeying the things God asks me to do. The false ideas leave me materially stuffed but spiritually empty. Guinness reminds me that only in finding the call of my Creator can I find grounding in the purpose of my life. He doesn't offer a 12-step program or the "Top 10 list" of how to know your calling. What he provides is the reminder of the obvious but often-neglected notion - "Listen to Jesus of Nazareth; answer his call."

For so many years I have wanted to find the one thing that made my heart soar. I thought that university would yield a task I could put my hands to; missionary work would provide me with a response to the "Great Commission" call and a bit of traveling would round out my experience with a monastic search for soul. As I've continued the search, I found that there are so many options; people suggest you could do anything you put your mind to which actually causes me more angst than enlightenment. What if I pick the wrong thing? What if I do the right thing for the wrong reasons? What if I do what I want not what God wants? Thankfully in the midst of this rampant questioning, I am offered some grace - I can find comfort in the fact that I am a seeker. True seekers are looking for something - they are "people for whom life, or a part of life, has suddenly become a point of wonder, a question, a problem, or a crisis. This happens so intensely that they are stirred to look for an answer beyond their present answers and to clarify their position in life" (11).

So like Dorothy seeking her way home, my search for meaning could actually serve a purpose. One of the benefits of membership in this True Seekers of Truth Club is that I am allowed to freely desire: "The very fact that we humans experience desire is proof that we are creatures. Incomplete in ourselves, we desire whatever we think is beckoning to complete us" (13). And in knowing that my Creator is the one beckoning, I can pursue his form of desire: The way of agape - "By all means love, by all means desire, but think carefully about what you love and what you desire"(13).

There have been times when I couldn't imagine living a life out of desire. Instead, I've often found myself as either a victim of my circumstances, searching for the strands of meaning throughout my history or attempting to create some sort of life that sounds noble and exciting. Why have I wrestled with the idea that I could both desire and serve God? Why have I created a chasm that tells me it must be one or the other? Guinness takes the reader through a review of history to help understand how our modern mindset has kept us in this place. The dichotomy is dubbed the Protestant/Catholic Distortion. Protestant distortion suggests that it is better to elevate the secular at the expense of the spiritual. This has led to the all-to-familiar "protestant work ethic" which, in very lay terms, suggests that if I choose to do my work for the Lord, He will honor it regardless of what the service might entail.

On the other side of the issue the catholic distortion suggests that you can do something that is either spiritually perfect or spiritually permitted. The secular is avoided. Guinness reminds us that there is value in both the spiritual and the secular - when both are melded together, we see all things as belonging to Christ. Recently, as I read an article about the concept of quality writing, I began to dream about the possibilities of doing what I desire - I'd like to write well. I wondered if this great feeling might be the part of me that had been longing to be unleashed - that moment when something triggers inside and you feel like yourself, somehow complete in letting a particular thought resonate through your entire being. I set it aside as some random thought- tired by my never-ending list of what-ifs in this guessing game. The next day e-mail arrived asking me to consider the idea of living the dream - actually writing for someone. Something inside me felt the dynamism and the devotion married together - the fusion of being and becoming met in one moment (30).

Guinness proposes that we are "called to be" which means that we are in fact - unique, exceptional, precious, significant and free to respond. This means that by my being human I am following God's call. By responding to Christ, my real self can be revealed because my false self is no trying so hard to control the outcome: "Rather than a place to sit or a pillow on which to rest, human identity is neither fixed nor final in this life. It is incomplete. As such we may refuse the call and remain stunted - unresponsive and irresponsible. Or we may respond to the call and rise to become the magnificent creatures only one Caller can call us to be" (24). Therefore, calling is nothing without a caller (42). Being "called to be" assumes that we have a relationship with the caller in which we partner with him in our search. This means I can avoid striving for something that I think will fit with my skills and talents. In fact, these talents aren't mine to exploit. I am given these gifts as something to manage, not to dictate.

I can also rest in the fact that my Creator is actually in close proximity when he's calling me - not far off in the distance while I'm hanging by a thread hoping that I can reach the next dangling thread made available to me. When seeking God regarding my calling, it's often seemed like I have invited Christ to come to my company's board meeting: "Yes, Jesus, if you could take a seat.we're going to discuss the next item on the agenda: My calling". Instead, my Creator actually enters my world, walks alongside and points out the signposts I should take note of; all the while showing me that there is a place uniquely created for me. He's not outside of this experience. But am I willing to listen and trust his words? Am I willing to devote myself to what he tells me? Oswald Chambers suggests that "the greatest competitor of devotion to Jesus is service for Him.the one aim of the call of God is the satisfaction of God, not a call to do something for Him" (42).

Up till now, I have sided more with the idea that my devotion to God is exemplified in my acts of service. In watching Chariots of Fire, I was reminded that God could give someone purpose while also creating that someone to be the object of His pleasure. Eric Liddell had a call to missions in China but God also made him able to run fast - he could feel God's pleasure because he knew that God made him a fast runner. Somewhere in between serving and desiring is a place where I can discover the meaning of calling. And in understanding calling I can also discover the heart of the gospel itself (59) - that thing I would live or die for.

Knowing this should yield a response like that of the disciples: "an act of obedience, not just a confession of faith in Jesus" (67). To me, an act of obedience typically equals an act of service. I Samuel 15:22 suggests there might be a difference - obedience being better than sacrifice. Obedience hasn't always sat well with me. I often find myself inconvenienced by its demands. Then I read about "the discipline of dismay" - the soft-gospel invitation of our convenience-loving age the flies in the face of the no-concession summons of God's call. Oswald Chambers forcefully suggests: "If we have never had the experience of taking our commonplace religious shoes off our commonplace religious feet, and getting rid of all the undue familiarity with which we approach God, it is questionable whether we have ever stood in his presence. The people who are flippant and familiar are those who have never yet been introduced to Jesus Christ" (68). Suddenly my obedience isn't about whether I like it or not - it's about encountering the living God. This changes everything.

In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy ultimately finds her way home. If you recall, the wizard wasn't the one who held the ultimate answer to her questions; in fact, he was a mere man sitting fearfully behind a curtain pretending to provide wise and profound answers. In the end, he simply reminds her that she already possesses that which will lead her home. Os Guinness doesn't strike me as a fearful man hidden behind some guise. He simply acts as a guide for those who wish to find their way home - to the purpose they've been called to. Guinness, like the Wizard, reminds us that what God has already put in us will be called to be. And I only need encounter the one who has called me.

Since we are called to be, I wonder why Dorothy had to take that long journey through all those difficult obstacles? Why couldn't she have skipped all that? After all, she ends up where she started - at home in Kansas waking up from a dream. I can only assume that there is a message in this too - that there is beauty in the journey when we encounter other souls who are also learning what it means to be called. While we seek an audience of One, we are also invited to be part of the community of saints who eagerly listen to the voice of the one calling them. And while we long for clarity, there will always be mystery. But through it all, by God's grace, we will one day wake up and know that we are home.