An Altar in the World: A Geography of Faith

by Barbara Brown Taylor

Then one night when my whole heart was open to hearing from God what I was supposed to do with my life, God said, “Anything that pleases you.” “What?” I said, resorting to words again. “What kind of an answer is that?” “Do anything that pleases you,” the voice in my head said again, “and belong to me.” At one level, that answer was no help at all. The ball was back in my court again, where God had left me all kinds of room to lob it wherever I wanted. I could be a priest or a circus worker. God really did not care. At another level, I was so relieved that I sledded down the stairs that night. Whatever I decided to do for a living, it was not what I did but how I did it that mattered. God had suggested an overall purpose, but was not going to supply the particulars for me. If I wanted a life of meaning, then I was going to have to apply the purpose for myself.