Calling and Called

I think one of the greatest compliments I could ever receive is one that doesn’t really point to me at all. It points to the Lord in me.

Last night I was at Gateway House of Prayer for an equipping night, and part of our worship was spent praying for another country. We were praying for the Middle East, specifically Iraq and Iran. As we worshiped, two people joined my friend and me, and the four of us began to pray and intercede on behalf of people we may never meet, in places we may never go. And as we prayed, there was something deeper happening in my heart too. The whole night had been stirring thoughts about calling, about the desires God places inside of us, about the things we find ourselves continually drawn toward, and about how sometimes the things that we cannot stop caring about may actually be connected to the places God is calling us.

I was battle thoughts in my own mind, battling the negative emotions and fear of the situations I currently find myself in. And the heartbreak of a few of those situations. But the Lord was stirring calling even deeper as I wrestled.

I have been thinking a lot about that lately. There are certain things that just keep coming back in my life. Prayer. People. The hurting. Those who feel unseen. Those walking through trauma, suffering, grief, disability, fear, and circumstances that have completely changed their lives. Intercession. Ministry. The nations. There are desires in my heart that I did not sit down and manufacture. There are burdens that I didn't ask God to give me, but somehow I keep carrying them to Him. There are things I have tried to put down, only to find that the Lord keeps putting them back in my hands. And sometimes I wonder if we are too quick to dismiss those things as simply what we want, when sometimes they may be the very things God is using to reveal what He has called us toward.

I don't know exactly what every one of those desires means yet. I don't have every piece of the calling figured out. I don't know what all of it will look like years from now. But I know there are things that make my heart come alive in a way I cannot explain, and there are people whose pain makes something inside of me say, I have to do something. I have to pray. I have to care. I have to show up. And maybe calling isn't always a lightning bolt moment where God gives you a five-year plan. Maybe sometimes it is simply the slow realization that He has been placing the same things on your heart over and over again, and eventually you realize they aren't going away because they aren't just your desires. They are invitations. They are things that go deeper than desires like marriage and being a mother and wife one day, deeper than the desire to be healthy and healed, deeper than all those desires of the flesh.

Then, as we finished praying, the woman who had joined our group took my hand, looked me directly in the eyes, and said something I will carry with me. She said, “I've never prayed with you, but I want you to know that you are a true prayer warrior. You have the heart of an intercessor. You have a gift. You are truly a gift.” She told me she could see the spirit and fight of an intercessor in me simply from that short time of praying together.

And my heart absolutely filled up.

Not because I have never been called a prayer warrior before. Not because those words were something I had never heard. But because of the timing. Because we had just spent that time praying about calling, about the things God stirs inside of us, about the desires He plants in our hearts, and then someone who knew almost nothing about me looked at me after praying beside me for a short time and recognized something that the Lord has been cultivating in me for years.

She didn't know my history. She didn't know my story. She didn't know the battles I have fought or the prayers I have prayed when nobody else was listening. She didn't know how deeply I love people or how often I find myself carrying people before the Lord. She didn't know all the things that have been stirring in my heart or the questions I've been asking God about what He wants my life to look like. She simply prayed with me, and somehow, she saw Him.

And that will always mean more to me than someone telling me I'm strong. More than someone telling me I'm brave. More than someone telling me they admire my faith. More than someone telling me they can see how deeply I love and care for people. Because when someone tells me those things, I don't want to receive them as a trophy for myself. I want to turn them upward.

If you see strength in me, I want you to know where my strength comes from.

If you see courage in me, I want you to know Who taught me how to stand.

If you see compassion in me, I want you to know Who broke my heart for people.

If you see that I care deeply, love fiercely, pray passionately, worship boldly, and fight for people who may never even know I fought for them, I want you to see Jesus.

Because none of that is really me. It is Him. It is the Holy Spirit working through a very imperfect woman who keeps saying yes.

And I think this is one of the most beautiful ways the Lord reveals calling. Sometimes He speaks it directly. Sometimes He confirms it through Scripture. Sometimes He gives us desires that won't leave us alone. Sometimes He keeps putting the same people, the same burdens, the same passions, and the same prayers in front of us. And sometimes He sends another person into the room who has no idea what God has been doing in our hearts, and allows them to recognize something that He has already placed there.

Maybe those moments aren't always God telling us something completely new. Maybe sometimes they are Him reminding us of something we already knew but were afraid to believe.

I have spent a lot of my life wanting people to know there is something different about me. Not because I want to be special, and not because I want attention. I don't want people to look at me and think I have somehow figured everything out. I told some of the girls in youth group recently that if there is one thing I want my life to be known for, it is Jesus. I want to be the kind of person someone can encounter for five minutes and walk away thinking, There is something different about her. And I don't mean that in a fake Christian way. I don't want to pretend I never hurt, never struggle, never question, never cry, never get tired, or never have days where I don't understand what God is doing. I want people to see what it looks like to follow Jesus in the middle of all of it.

I want them to see Him in the way I love people, in the way I pray, in the way I worship, in the way I speak, in the way I serve, in the way I care, in the way I fight for people, in the way I show up, in the way I forgive, and in the way I walk through suffering. I want them to see Him when I am doing well and when I am barely holding it together. When I understand what He is doing and when I don't have the slightest clue. When I feel strong and when I feel completely inadequate. I don't want people to see a woman who never struggles. I want them to see a woman who struggles and still chooses Jesus. A woman who hurts and still loves. A woman who is tired and still prays. A woman who doesn't have all the answers but knows Who does.

Because maybe that is where calling becomes most beautiful. Calling doesn't mean I will always feel capable of what God asks me to do. In fact, sometimes the things He calls us toward are the very things that make us realize how desperately we need Him. I don't want to be so strong that people don't need Jesus after watching my life. I want my life to make it obvious that I could never do any of this without Him.

So when someone tells me, “I can see your faith,” or “I can see how much you love people,” or “I can tell you are a prayer warrior,” or “There is something different about you,” I hope I never become so comfortable hearing those words that I forget where they belong. They belong at His feet. Every compliment that reveals something good in me is ultimately an invitation to worship the One who put it there.

And maybe that is what made last night feel so significant to me. We were talking about calling. We were praying for people across the world. I was thinking about the desires God has been stirring in my own heart, the things I can't seem to shake, the places my heart continually goes, and the kind of person I desperately want to become for His Kingdom. And then, almost like a quiet whisper from the Lord through another person, I heard, I see it.

I don't take that as confirmation that I have everything figured out. I don't take it as a guarantee that I know exactly where this calling will take me. But I do take it as another little reminder to keep saying yes. To keep praying. To keep listening. To keep loving people. To keep allowing God to break my heart for the things that break His. To keep following the desires He has placed inside me while holding them with open hands and allowing Him to decide what they become.

Maybe calling isn't something we discover all at once. Maybe it is something we live into, one yes at a time. One prayer at a time. One person at a time. One act of obedience at a time. And maybe along the way, God will occasionally put someone in our path who sees something in us that we are still learning to see in ourselves.

So if there is anything good in me that people can see, I pray it is because Jesus is becoming impossible to hide. I pray the way I love people makes them wonder where that love comes from. I pray the way I pray makes them hungry for the God I'm praying to. I pray the way I walk through suffering makes them see His faithfulness. I pray the way I serve makes them see His heart. And I pray that when people encounter me, they don't leave impressed by Kelsay. I pray they leave having encountered Jesus.

Because I don't want my life to simply be a monument to what I have survived. I want it to be a testimony to Who carried me through it. I don't want people to only see what God brought me out of. I want them to see what He is calling me into.

And if He chooses to use my story, my scars, my prayers, my love for people, my brokenness, my gifts, my voice, and even the deepest desires He has planted in my heart to make Himself known...

then, Lord, here I am.

Use it all.

Because if people see something different in me, I want that something to be You.