Why I Didn’t Become A Lawyer (Sorry, Uncle Jimmy!)

I miss my Uncle Jimmy. He was my great-uncle, actually. My grandmama’s baby brother – the youngest of my great-grandmama’s eleven children. And from the time I was 15 – when we moved close to them – he took a personal interest in my life. He and Aunt Daph (short for Daphine) came to hear me sing for three winters with the NC Symphony Orchestra in Handel’s Messiah. And when I graduated from Methodist College, they drove three hours to come see me walk across stage and get hooded. I knew he loved me, and when he died suddenly with complications from an emergency appendectomy, I was bereft. Truly, family holidays have never been the same.

Now, my Uncle Jimmy was a pistol – like all of my uncles. But one of the ways he stood out from the rest – (I come from a LARGE family) – was that he really believed that I was meant to be a lawyer. And once I got my English degree, he began in earnest, pushing for me to go to law school like his son, Jamie. The only problem was that I had no desire to be a lawyer. Still don’t, to this very day.

I know that it may seem lazy on my part. Or lacking in initiative. But there’s something I know about me that I’m not sure that Uncle Jimmy realized. (Possibly because he was biased where I was concerned.) And that’s the simple fact that I’m really not persuasive, at all. My brother? He can sell ice cubes to Eskimos. But me? As loquacious as I manage to be on paper, if I had to argue a case verbally, I’d be in big trouble. More to the point, my client would be sunk.

Let me rephrase this to more adequately make my point: The words which flow liberally from my lips do not have power.

In Chapter 5 of The Fire of Delayed Answers, Bob Sorge says, “The same power that initiated human history will also consummate human history. The mouth that said, ‘Let there be light,’ will once again speak to the darkness of the human predicament with the same words, and darkness will be vanquished.”

Now, see, there is a mouth that is powerful. God spoke and BOOM, it happened – the world was formed. I speak and half the time, people talk over me and I either get missed or I have to repeat myself at maximum volume just to be heard. And even then, I’m often ignored. But God, when He speaks, things happen.

I love that. I love that I’ve been given the promise that Jesus (who is God the Son) is sitting at the right hand of God (the Father), making requests on my behalf. Jesus is my attorney. And when He asks for things for me, He isn’t ignored, and He doesn’t have to get His Father’s attention or repeat Himself. He says, “Father, our Sarah has this need….” And the need is met.

And now that I’ve been real holy, let me be real real. It’s hard to be here where I can’t see or hear that conversation between Jesus and our Father. Because I see the needs here and while I know He’s asking for the things I need to meet them, I don’t see those things until they show up. And sometimes, I don’t understand the timing. My prayer is that each day, I’m able to remind myself of my Heavenly attorney, and that my needs are truly met because His powerful voice says that they are.

This post has been part of a weekly book discussion about Bob Sorge’s book The Fire of Delayed Answers. You don’t have to read the book to participate in the chat! Feel free to jump in anytime! Meanwhile, if you did write a response to this week’s chapter, please feel free to link up at the widget below. (Or in case the widget fails like it did last week, in the comments.) And when you’re done, go visit my friend and co-facilitator, Jason Stasyszen, to see what he has to say. Next week, Chapter 6 begins!