What Moana Taught Me About Calling

How Moana Inspired Me Toward Calling

I don’t cry much, but I fight tears every time I hear this song. This is why:

It’s because I have purpose in this life, appointed purpose, purpose which calls to me and the closer I get to it, like Moana staring out at the water, the more alive I feel.

It’s because there are people who love me who have a path in mind for me, a good path, a worthy path – but it’s not God’s path.  

It’s because when I chase my calling and stumble and fail at points, there will be people who love me ready to tell me “See? That isn’t the way. Come back to this path over here.”  

It’s because the desire to be the perfect daughter, mother, friend, sister, sometimes feels like it contradicts the calling. Because sometimes going out into the water is going away from them, away from what they want for me, for themselves.

It’s because we don’t know the whole story. Those people who love me don’t know the whole story. I don’t know the whole story. But the path-maker – He knows the whole story.  

It’s because He didn’t give me the calling to take me away from the people or set me against the people – He gave me the calling FOR the people. Moana left her people, defied her father, snuck away and took a path lined with waves instead of sand. She felt alone. Her people felt abandoned. But at the end of the wave-paved path she saved the whole dang world and she set her people free – reminding them who they were.

If this is you, feeling pulled toward a path – a path with an uncertain ending, a path with an uncertain middle – remember who marked out the race for you. Remember people are great guides and mentors and running mates, but they are not the path-makers.  

If this is you, staring out at the edge of the water – I hope you will go.

If this is you, and you went, but the waves pushed you down and spat you out coughing and choking - I hope you will dust yourself off, find soul refreshment on your face before God, and go again.

If this is you, and you’ve gone, but you’re looking back because things are hard and the path they laid is starting to sound wonderfully simple compared to the path He laid – I hope you will turn, turn to look at the line where the sky meets the sea, turn to look toward your calling, eyes on your race, eyes on your prize.

Because “they said” and “they did” and “they wanted” will fall flat as excuses for why you stared out at the sea, but never got on the boat.