Vocation.

I often wonder what it is like to find your vocation.

I haven’t.

Obviously, based on my first statement.

I’ve been pursuing “vocation” my entire adolescence into adulthood.

The first thing I ever wanted to do was raise chickens and work with computers. I dreamed of selling eggs and writing video games. I’m 42. I haven’t sold eggs yet but I have made some video games.

I find myself torn to shreds over this topic. My current job is a blessing; it pays me well enough that Kendra can stay home, we can pay our bills, and (if acting wisely) save money for large future expenses. My boss gives me a lot of leeway and allows me a good amount of freedom. I’m supremely blessed in many ways.

At the end of the day I don’t know what value I’ve provided. I’ve made money for home, I’ve served my earthly master, but I have nothing to note; nothing to discuss. I’m the guy who, when he gets off work, doesn’t want to talk about his day. His day has been a waste, as far as he knows.

It’s hard reconciling that waste with the blessing. I know I’m being an ungrateful child of God when I see it like that. I am treated well; many, many men would kill for my position. Me? I’d kill to know that my work created genuine good and that the skills I was learning applied to my life and interest.

I shouldn’t complain. I hope I’m not complaining.

Suffice to say, “vocation” is a heavy word, drenched in meaning. I hope to have it one day.