Demoralizing

My 2008 Christmas letter morphed into a 2009 Epiphany letter, and I've spent the day personalizing them and addressing the envelopes, finally to get them sent out across the globe along with copies of my latest Christmas carol.

Being a prudent person (sometimes), I'm checking the addresses of my British and European friends, especially if I haven't heard from them in a year or two. Or five. Or ten.

The Internet is a marvellous tool for the purpose. If you have enough information on a person to avoid outrageous plunges into mistaken identity, you can track down about anyone, worldwide.

And I have to say many of my Oxford former fellow-students and friends have emerged as an illustrious bunch. The man I've tagged as Friedl* is the European coordinator of a major Protestant ecumenical alliance. Another man coaches fencing teams that have taken international championships. Others have posts at prestigious universities and have written enough books on meaty topics to supply half the missing couch legs in Christendom. They shine and shine, whereas I--?

I'm sitting here with no vocation because my church authorities in their wisdom think my next post should be an "easy" one, and easy posts aren't exactly current in the PC(USA)!

It's my own fault, really. I could claim gender discrimination, but plenty of women are wildly successful. I could say I'd do brilliantly were I simply given the chance, but why must the chance be "given" to me? I could argue that I wasn't raised to be ambitious or to have wide horizons, but what did I ever do to fight back against those assumptions?

No, while my grad school colleagues have used their guts and gone on to be wonders, I am a gutless wonder.

And I hope I get a fine sense of accomplishment from getting these letters out. Because unless I think hard about what I should and ought and can make of my life in 2009, that's about the level of fulfillment I can expect.