[You have probably discovered by now that titles are the bane of my existence.]

It’s Columbus Day, and the schools are off, which means that day care is closed as well. My daughter and I are home, and she is watching Sesame Street. How much blogging can I get done between now (Global Grover) and the end of the program (Sesame Street has been brought to you by the letter U)? We are all about to find out.

I have been working for the past three days on a huge essay on feminism, faith, and motherhood. When I say “three days,” I mainly mean three nights, because that’s often when the mother of a toddler has the space and quiet to write. And when I say “huge,” I mean that I am trying to tell a 5,000 to 10,000-word story in 2,500 words. It’s easier to write long things than short things. Paragraphs I loved like they were my own children ended up getting cut. Actually they live on in a Word document I call “chaff.” Maybe they will re-emerge someday. My sister-in-law asked me to write the piece—she is editing a book of essays from young Christian women on the intersection of feminisn and faith.

(Elmo’s World just came on, which means I have about 15 minutes.)

C turns 20 months tomorrow. It is the coolest age. I know I say that at every age. (My dad used to say every December, “This will be the best Christmas ever.” He was always right. He also sang, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” Since we lived in a city with weather similar to Calcutta, I’m sorry to say, he was wrong.) She has started putting words together in short sentences (“Where’s the brush?” “Pizza hot.”) We all went to a fall festival this weekend and she enjoyed the hayride, slides, live music, and pumpkin patch. Of course we got pictures. Cross your fingers that they actually make it off the camera and into the computer, unlike the pictures from May that I discovered haven’t been downloaded yet.

(Elmo’s World is very cute, but it always features Elmo getting e-mail, and Elmo wanting to know more about the topic of the day [example: feet], and consulting the Feet Channel. Hey, Elmo, how about cracking open a book once in a while? Yes, I know my child is sitting in front of the TV right now, but she reads a LOT.)

Dickie Cronkite wrote last week about the thrill of meeting and hearing Anne Garrels. He was apparently a little starstruck, even though she is a rather minor celebrity. I had a similar experience last week, although I was starstruck about two preaching professors that most of you have never heard of—Tom Long and Peter Gomes (although Gomes has written some books that had some popularity). They were in town giving a couple of lectures at the local seminary.

I found myself listening and observing, not as a parish preacher, but as one who wonders and senses that I might be called to join their ranks someday. A friend and fellow pastor recently asked me to read his sermon and provide constructive feedback, and as I did, I had a sense of “This is what I’m supposed to do. Not just preach, but help others make their preaching more creative, and teach others.” Those of us in the church would call this a moment of vocational discernment. Frederick Buechner wrote that your calling is where your deepest gladness and the world’s deepest needs intersect. But we will see.

I told another friend about this experience, and she said that just as you can look at a person sometimes and see the child they used to be, you can also see the person that they will become. Time will tell. It’s certainly not a “today” decision, but one to think about some years from now.

(Closing credits roll. Time for some quality mother daughter time!)