Have you ever known deep inside something you were called to do?  Something purposed?  Something good?  You feel that burning inside you; you hear that voice whisper in your ear.  It is so clear and obvious.  Your gut tells you it is the right thing to do.  It sounds exciting.  Maybe scary.  You make a choice.  You pick up the calling.  You listen.  You heed the voice, gain courage, and it fuels you to action.

 

But . . .

 

How many of us discover that it is only after a short, first step of action when we notice things become difficult.  Resistance opposes our plan of attack.  An unexpected obstacle plops into view, right on our path.  A flat tire.  A traffic jam.  And the pin-pointed focus and vison we’ve used to carry out the high calling, purpose, or plan, becomes faded, distorted, and disappointed. 

 

How are we not supposed to give up when things get hard?

 

My recent trip to the Mid-South Christian Writers Conference near Memphis, Tennessee gave me some insight to this question.

 

My alarm sounded at an early 3:00 a.m., jump starting my mind and nerves with excitement.  I don’t do mornings, but with an adventure like this, who could sleep a wink longer?  Everything was packed and ready.  I brushed my teeth, grabbed my bags, and kissed my wife.  Adrenaline fired through me.  I could hardly believe this was happening. My pin-pointed vision: getting to the writing conference.

I got into my trusty pickup.  It’s my mobile office.  We work well together.  It hasn’t let me down, always being there to get me to a place to write, or think, or gather ideas.  So, when we headed off to get gas, I never thought anything different.  I filled the tank.  We headed out.  I was just about ready to get on the Parkway.

 

And the dash light came on: check gauges!

 

The ding of the alert shot a panic through my soul.  That’s what alerts are meant to do.  I looked the dashboard over.  The engine heat gauge was pegged hot.  Instant disappointment flooded over me.  How?  Why?  Now?  I have a brain injury for crying out loud!  It’s 4 o’clock in the morning!  Without anyone to help me, and with no daylight, I tried to think.  Turn the heat on.  I cranked it up.  Full blast.

 

The engine heat gauge needle went back down.

 

I was shocked. It worked. 

 

Considering my truck and I were in the middle of nowhere, I decided to keep driving until I found an exit to take and a safe looking place to stop.  A gas station.  I bought some anti-freeze and topped the reservoir off.  Keep going, I figured.

 

Heat full blast.

 

My eyes kept watching the gauges.  The engine heat kept at bay.  My legs were on fire from the heat being on full blast, but the truck seemed satisfied.  I put the windows down: A chilly, 32 degrees.  What a mix!

 

Just follow the GPS.

 

I never used a prepaid valet parking company before.  I didn’t even know where they were located.  I assumed it was at the airport, but when I heard Siri tell me to get off the Parkway exit, I knew my truck and I were headed elsewhere.  Will I ever make it?  I was nervous.  I saw the time.  My truck and I had spent too much time nursing anti-freeze into its veins.  When I saw the sign to park, my heart fluttered.  I couldn’t believe it was so far away from the airport!

 

I hustled to the front desk.  A woman much calmer than me looked me in the eye.  My flustered words sounded to her ears.  “The heater’s on full blast.  The fan’s on full blast. The engine is overheating.  Here’s the keys.  Bye.”  I turned and rushed out the door for the waiting valet service.  I can’t miss my flight!  When I got to the shuttle, I gave the driver my bag.  Didn’t even know it was the right guy.  But he took it.  I got on.  Just get me there, please!

 

And the seconds ticked by as we drove to the airport.

 

But he was kind, knew the way, and dropped me off right at the terminal.  He traded my bag for the tip I had waiting for him.  I hurried into the airport and checked in my bag.  “You’re headed for B27,” a helpful voice directed me. 

 

And off I went.

 

But after the blur of getting through security was over, I noticed that the flight information display system said my gate was C52. I headed that way.  Only to find out that with fifteen minutes remaining until boarding, only four other passengers were waiting there.  Not even an attendant?  Radio silence.  Crickets.  All was dead.

 

I couldn’t take it anymore with ten minutes till boarding.  I turned to a man behind me.  “There’s nobody here.” 

He realized I was right.  And all five of us stood at once in panic. 

 

It was then when I started to see my situation as hopeless.  The dark night of the soul, I suppose.  I had come all this way.  Endured so much.  Drove through impossibility with my pant legs burning and windows down.  All for nothing.  The time, money, and effort.  Wasted.  Honestly, I thought I was going to miss my flight.

 

But to make a long story and a much longer walk shorter, the man who had sat behind me called someone, and found out our gate was actually B22. 

 

We all hustled there like crazy people. 

 

When we got there, they were boarding.  I scanned my pass.  “I was at C52,” I said, out of breath.

“Yeah, we tried to change it.”

 

It is a miracle I made the flight.

 

So, to fast forward, I made it to Tennessee.  I checked in to my hotel.  I registered for the writing conference.  I met incredible people and made incredible new friends.  And when the conference started, my ears may have been the most alert in the whole room.  For the struggle was real in getting this far.  And a man got up to pray.  To open and bless the service and weekend.  And I heard his words as if a giant hammer pounded them into the core of my soul.

 

“We rejoice in You, Lord.  For You have opened a door which no man can shut.”

 

And I about fell over. 

 

Because it took that long for me to realize the truth.

 

You see in that moment, my thick skull got something.  A great truth had landed on my ears, and I sat mesmerized by it.  Nobody could have stopped me, I thought.  Nothing could have stopped me.  I replayed my trip.  The struggle.  The nightmare of getting this far.  The truck that might not run anymore when I pick it up.  God is in control!  And He opened the door for me to get here.  I saw the opposition.  The forces working against me.  And try as they may, they couldn’t do a thing about it!

 

I cannot tell you how this prayer set the tone for my conference experience.

 

Because God wanted me to be there.  To learn.  To make contacts.  To develop my craft.  So that I can produce fruit.  For His glory.  Because yes, I heard His calling correctly.  And because I listened and took action on that call, I received a spiritual blessing at this conference so special I cannot put into words.  It was an awakening of my spirit in ways.  A refreshing.  Something I needed.

 

Push through, friend.  Because you may be in that exact same place.

 

The Apostle Paul instructs us to do the same.  Don’t give up.  Press on.  He writes in Philippians 3:13b-14 that:

 

“But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

 

And isn’t that what I should have focused on all along?  Isn’t that what you should keep focus on? 

 

Following our calling, the whisper in our spirit, the thing we know the Lord wants us to do . . . these things are never easy.  But I challenge you today, friend.  Press on.  For if the Lord wants you to do something, He is keeping the door open for you.  He wants you to push through and achieve what He asked of you.  He is making a way.

 

Don’t give up. 

 

Catch the plane.

 

You’ll be amazed at what God will do when you keep pressing on.