Email: Jessie Jennette

Dear Friends,

This month is all about discernment in the Young Adult Volunteer Program. So in the midst of March Madness and April Extravaganza, the YAVs are taking one long  weekend to stop and listen to what it is God is calling us to do with the rest of our lives. I know this must be the best kept secret in the whole of the Gulf Coast Mission site, but most volunteers that are willing to give up a year to do service and nothing else usually don’t have a definite plan for their futures, not to mention career path. That’s probably the reason behind the statistic that 75 percent of YAVs will attend seminary after their year of service.

At least twice a week, I’m asked the question, “So, what are your plans after this year?”  My answer has always been the same: “I’m not really sure. I plan on getting a job and becoming a responsible, tax-paying member of society, but beyond that, the future is unclear.” And it’s terrifying. My personality is one that hates to be idle. Idleness is a sin in our society, and I’m pretty sure it’s a sin in the Bible too. There are so many things I’d be interested in doing­—a nice long list of careers that sound interesting, valuable, and fulfilling. Then right next to it is a much longer list of reasons that I should not pursue those careers. Too much time spent in schooling or training; is the destination in the career worth the investment of the schooling; career is not enough to live on; career is impractical as a goal due to lack of resources; career will not feed my soul; I don’t have the skills, strengths, or gifts to succeed in the career; These are all valid reasons to let go of those dreams and move on.

Before, I would have been satisfied to let the most practical answer trump the others. In that respect, the decision to come here was the worst decision I have ever made, because now I can’t put the practical first. I want to be part of something selfless—something that is driven by a cause and a desire to make the world a better place. That was the easy decision to make. The difficult decision is what part of that system to become. You can be the muscle—the one who works for peanuts and righteously budgets to get the job done on the front lines. Or you can be the food—the one that feeds the poor cause and lives a double life, a simple, safe, straightforward career by day who moonlights as a philanthropist. There are pros and cons to both. Neither can function without the other. How do you choose? People do it all the time, and I can’t seem to find the motivation to just pick one. I guess the only decision I have already made is not to become the third type—the one that is too wrapped up in their own issues to realize others have even bigger problems. That’s something right?

I can only conclude that I haven’t found it yet—that role that I have to do, no matter how difficult it gets. “Just keep looking. You’ll find it.” That’s often the response that I get to that question I’m asked so often. It really is a great answer, so why do I want to hear anything but that?

Jessie