Lent: Call

All his life Rourke wanted to hear the call of God the way others did.

He heard about them in church or in Sunday school; and Rourke understood from the hushed reverential tones their names were whispered in that these were men and women who heard the call of God on their lives. They answered it unreservedly, and blazed a path in service to heaven, that glowed years after they had trod it. For that reason their names were remembered and held up for inspiration. George Fox. Clara Barton. Jim Elliot. Cate Blanchett. Hudson Taylor. Melvin Fenwick. Keith Green. 

It must be something to hear the call of God. Rourke imagined himself on a gray and dreary day, laboring away at the tedium when the world would split with a trumpet blast and it would happen. He would hear God's calling.

The call of God! Rourke shook at the very thought of it. When he heard it, Rourke would leave the ordinary world behind and embrace a life of faith and daring, like a spiritual Indiana Jones bringing the good news to the Jabberwalkies and the Hottentoads, standing alone against the hordes of darkness.

But the call didn't come, and as he got older, Rourke entered art school. He began a career as an artist. drawing pictures for children's books, teaching art to elementary students, and making watercolors of the animals people often missed, like the red foxes that lived in the city's parks, or the coyotes that migrated along .the railroad tracks.

Then one day the phone rang. An old friend needed help. The friend talked, and Rourke listened. They passed the hours in conversation, and as days turned into weeks, Rourke called his friend regularly to check in and see how he was doing.

Rourke got older. He published a few books of his photography through a niche publisher; and donated the money to a local watershed conservation group, to protect the fields and waterways in the area where he lived. Someone noticed that, and he was invited to address a few civic organizations about the importance of the local environment and ensuring that everyone had access to nature.

God never called. 

One day Rourke woke to find himself alone. His wife was gone, their sons were gone, and he realized he was entirely on his own, standing at the brink in a place of unbearable darkness. In desperation he called a friend he knew.

He spoke. She listened, and before they hung up, she made him promise to call her in the morning so she would know he was all right.

Years passed and Rourke mended.

When he died at the age of 72, Rourke had never heard that trumpet he had hoped one day to hear. He never preached good news to the Hottentoads, and he never carried a lit torch over his head to show crowds of Jabberwalkies the way. 

The call of God is strange and wondrous, and easy not to see.

Perhaps it was in the care he showed for the earth and its inhabitants as he drew attention to the gifts of nature all around and asked to preserve them for everyone to enjoy. Perhaps it was the night someone called and he picked up the phone and was present in a way they needed; or perhaps it was even when he called someone else.

But Rourke's legacy was no greater nor less than any other man's, yet none doubted he had answered his calling.