"Duty is the pilot light of passion."

Bart Campolo, who writes down his thoughts, conveniently enough, over at http://www.batcampolo.com, has left up a really brief but really important post about the place of duty and passion in our daily lives.

He writes that "Passion waxes and wanes…motives are always mixed…but the kid still needs to get tutored, the old lady still needs a visit, the food still needs to be delivered. Do the right thing anyway, out of duty…and sometimes, in the midst of the dutiful act, the kid ‘gets it’, the old lady feels loved, the hungry delight in being fed, and in that moment of secondhand joy, something goes off in your heart and reminds you of why you thought this stuff was so important way back when you were passionate…and you are again."

I think that this sums up something that I have been thinking about in my own life, and a struggle that I have from time to time about the decisions that I make and the work that I do.
The thing is, I am passionate about a lot of things. One of the things I am most passionate about is justice. I always have been as far as I can tell. This passion has brought me to a lot of interesting places, and into a lot of interesting situations. I am blessed to have such a passion and to be able to share it with those around me (whether they want me to or not).

There's a big problem with this, however, and Bart hits the nail right on the head. Passion can make us do something initially, but it is almost always insufficient to make us see that thing through to the end. Passion can give us a conviction that we ought to do something, but it cannot make us do it when we just don't feel like it that day. In other words, passion often fades when it is confronted with the often gritty reality of daily life.

I have certainly found this to be true in my own life, and it continues to be true here in Agua Prieta. In theory I love the work that I am doing, and the work that I have chosen to do, but in practice it can seem more like torture than a calling. There are days, sometimes weeks, where I find myself wishing to be someplace else with some other people, doing something a lot more, well, a lot more normal. I think a lot of these feelings are pretty natural. The truth is, I love a lot of the things I have left behind. I love A LOT of people who are not here with me, and who would make my life that much more enjoyable if they were. And I can't escape the fact that I have chosen what is often a really hard job, and a really hard way of life. I don't always have a lot of time or money or freedom of choice. I don't live in the culture, or the country, in which I was brought up. I can't do many of the things that make me happy or feel relaxed. But it is a way of life I believe in. And I also can't escape the fact that, all of this excluded, everyone, at one point or another, wishes their lives were different in some way.

Ultimately, this is my choice, and I really like doing it, but sometimes I keep on doing it not because I want to, but because it is the commitment I have made. Bart is right when he says that duty is the pilot light of passion. More often that not I find myself really enjoying what I am doing, even if it didn't seem like I would. I do things out of duty that end up fueling the original passion that I had. I attribute this to a generous and loving God, but I trust that doesn't surprise anyone. In my present season of life I have agreed to do a specific job for a specific period of time, and I imagine that I am being prepared for a future without a forseeable ending and with fewer boundaries and guidelines. I expect I will have passion for what I am doing in future seasons of my life, but I also expect that I will need a sense of duty and commitment to carry them through to whatever end.

I have experienced both duty and passion today, I pray you have as well.