Discovering the convergence of deep desire, deep love, and deep need

Resistance

When I pressed send, I never expected the answer to be “yes.”

I was just surrendering to a burden on my soul that wouldn’t let go.

It started when I asked my brother-in-law how I could pray for him. His answer was for their international move to Spain and the intense pressure it was creating. Being no stranger to long-distance moves, my heart went out to him and his wife. My wife and I picked up everything and moved to San Antonio, fitting everything we own into a twenty-foot moving truck. They’re stuck with twenty-inch checked luggage.

Then my wife tells me they need to leave by the end of the month—holy shit.

Conviction stuck to me like some existential glitter. I couldn’t shake it. Then I realized that I had job flexibility and a cache of Delta miles, and Michigan was an easy flight.

I texted, “What if I came out there for a week and helped with whatever you need?” I expected them to give a hearty thanks and tell me they’ve got it covered.

If it won’t totally disrupt your life, I won’t say no.

Time stood still while I stared at the response. There was a jolt of disbelief. I paced aimlessly around the house, eyes glued to my phone. But something in my heart gave way. It was time to step up.

Action

Serving has always been a struggle for me—I hoard energy, avoid intimacy, and bristle at prefab volunteer gigs.

This, by contrast, was a head spinner. I was figuring out dates, flights, and making decisions before I had all the info. I even booked a connecting flight home so I could accompany my brother-in-law and nephews on part of their journey to Spain.

It was as if all my resistance rerouted in a matter of minutes.

But it was more than action. It wasn’t just some kind of begrudging duty. The moment my flight was booked and I texted that I was coming, I was excited. You would think I had just booked a dream vacation. And yet, that’s what it felt like.

Years of doing the dance of service avoidance all of a sudden turned into a mission. I was focused. I was clear. I was decisive. And on top of all that, I couldn’t be happier. What the hell happened?

It struck me that it was less about me changing, and more about stumbling into alignment with who I’d always been.

Discovery

I’ve known for a long time that I’m hard-wired for service and contribution. I know I’ve been missing something vital with the lack of service in my life. But there’s often been a barrier. There’s a cultural narrative of what service looks like. Feeding the homeless, building houses for the poor, or saving the environment. I’ve read from that script, and I don’t see my part in it.

But something magical happened when I stumbled into the intersection of acute need, deep love, and unique ability. I love my brother and sister-in-law. I love the adventure they’re embarking on. I had experience that would meet them right where they were at.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I was built for a time just like this. An opportunity that I was meant to step into. How many of these had I missed in the past? How many was I going to miss out on by not leaning further into the things that truly mattered to me?

I’ve learned that I need to dig in more. Show up. Be present. Ask more questions. Get deeper into the lives of those I’m surrounded by. I’m blessed with specific people and specific talents for a reason. I need to search harder for the convergence of both.

Joy

The greatest surprise came when I landed in Michigan. Every day was filled with sweat, dirt, and a thousand micro-decisions. The work was hard. There was so much to figure out. There was so much stuff to get rid of. I don’t need to see another Goodwill or Salvation Army for a long time. Every night I went to bed exhausted.

But at the same time, my heart was filled with joy. Every morning, I was invigorated to get up and start all over again. Every night, I was blessed with food, laughter, and great conversation. I felt excited and alive and full of energy.

At one point, my brother-in-law asked me how I was doing, and I said I was having a great time. I didn’t blame him for not believing me, but it was true.

Resolution

As we parted ways in the Atlanta airport, I boarded my flight to San Antonio. Then the tears started. I can feel them now as I write this. They came because I felt even closer now to beloved family and friends who I just sent halfway around the world. But there were also tears of gratitude. Who would have thought that the opportunity to pour my life out for others would be just as great of a gift to me as my service was to them.

For so long, I thought that the burden to serve more was just guilt. That I just wasn’t doing enough. That I was refusing to take action out of fear and a desire to hold on to comfort.

I recognize now that burden is really an opportunity. Not to wait for the right thing to come along, but to open myself up more to the lives of others with intention. To probe beneath the surface. To seek out openings to use my gifts. To blend my greatest desires with the greatest needs of those who have been placed in my sphere.

I wandered, almost unintentionally, into a service opportunity that aligned a deep desire with a deep need and a deep love. What adventure and joy would I inherit if I was proactively trying to marry these things together?

Maybe the challenge isn’t that we don’t care enough, but that we haven’t learned to see where our most profound loves intersect with the world’s most profound needs. The question isn’t whether we’re missing opportunities – it’s whether we’re awake enough to recognize the callings that were meant for us all along.