Maybe I should say yes...

Last year I got a tattoo. It says, “hope” in Bengali (It’s pronounced “asha”). One of the things I didn’t expect before I got the tattoo (although, now in hindsight it seems perfectly clear) is that most people would think my name is Asha. (it’s quite common to have your name, or the name of your husband or child or god tattooed on your forearm here). Once they determine that I know what it says and I can read Bengali, they usually follow up by saying, “oh, your name is Asha.” Or by asking, “Whose name is Asha?”

And then I tell them that it’s nobody’s name – but that I got it because I believe that because of Jesus there is always hope (well, sometimes depending on the context I don’t mention Jesus…). I say something along the lines of, “sometimes our life is very dark, but even then there is hope.” Or, “It doesn’t matter how dark life is, or what sort of bad things are going on, there is still hope.” I believe these things…and really there are lots more deeper and personal reasons why I chose to have hope written on my wrist. 

Funny aside: The other day I was talking with our friend who is a taxi driver and he saw my tattoo for the first time and after I explained it to him he told me there were 2 things about my tattoo. One was good, and one was bad. It was good that I would always remember that there was hope. But it was bad to have a tattoo cause then if anyone was ever looking for me they could say that I have আশা  tattooed on my wrist and it would be hard for me to hide (I told him I wasn’t too concerned about that).

Last year as a community we discussed our “vocation” – which I think is a big scary word. It kind of makes my mind spin and it makes me think of a life-long calling to a certain place or people or work (and maybe its that I have enough commitment-phoebe in me that I don’t want to claim any one place/work for the rest of my life).

Here are some excerpts of what I wrote on my vocational survey last year:

Uh…since I don’t really feel like I have a vocation (nor am I especially compelled to get one…it’s pretty hard to answer questions 5-8). Let me know if I’m being “irresponsible” here – and I’ll “work” at this more.

Maybe I need a different word that “vocation” and then I could do this better. I think I can’t get past the formality of the word.

(oh man my community has so much grace for me and my wandering thoughts…can’t believe Beth “let” me “turn this in”)

I don’t feel like I have a vocation (or, I guess what I should say is that I don’t have a clear sense of my vocation). I think the word scares me. It seems formal and final. I think when I hear the word “vocation” I think of a “job” or a “task” that you’ve been called to do for the rest of your life – and I don’t feel that at all. I feel like God keeps calling me into new truths and new seasons – drawing new ideas and passions out of me…and  I have no idea how long I’ll be here, or what might be next. Maybe that’s my problem…that vocation isn’t a task, or a place – but something that transcends those…I guess I can say that I for the rest of my life I know that the idea of justice and freedom from oppression will be things my heart will resonate with and work towards – and the idea of hope. Maybe my vocation is to be a receiver and spreader of hope. That’s something I would want to be/do the rest of my life – and can see that as an anchor/something I’ll pursue no matter where I am, or what a new season of life may look like…

And somehow along the way this idea of naming my vocation as being a “Receiver and bearer of hope” has seeped into my soul and spirit. Hope…it’s what I do. It’s who I am. When I am tired of deferred hope, I still hope. When I try my hardest not to hope, I can’t quite pull it off. Cause at the end of the day, I believe that God is who He says He is. I believe that He is making all things new…even when I can’t see it. The Holy Spirit continues to breathe hope into me…even when it’s hard. When it makes no sense…and even at times when I wish I could stop hoping.

So maybe, next time someone asks me if my name is Asha, I should just say yes…