The Vanity of Beans

Is all this--this striving to find the work that God has cut out for me-- an exercise in vanity?
I got the sweetest rejection I've ever had from Sister Mary yesterday. She thanked me for the offer to make a CD of my songs and donate all the proceeds to the monastery, but said that t wasn't something she could see happening. Too many details to work out. Her answer was so clear and sweet; I didn't feel bad at all. In fact I was thrilled that she took the time to respond to my email and explain why the CD thing wouldn't work out at this point in time.
But it made me realize how attached I am to whether people like my work or not. I am attached; I do care if my writing gets a good or bad response. I should (should?) be content to do the work: write the songs, sing the songs, make the rugs, knit the blankets, crochet the scarves, and cook the food, without caring so much whether or not they enhance my image. The important thing is: does the work glorify God? Does it bring comfort to people, or does it unsettle us in a way that makes us yearn for Him?
The work I do does not need to make me look good; the work I do should glorify God.
But I like work, and I like doing a good job. I like using the skills God gave me. It feels good to do the work and to know that I put my heart and soul into it.
It seems that when a certain chord is struck within us we start to seek God with an almost mindless passion---but when I say mindless I don’t mean stupid; I mean more than just intellect. I think of the way a little bean will push through the soil and then unfurl its leaves and reach-reach-reach for the light as if its life depended on it. Because it does.
I think that is what is happening when we are doing the work God wants us to do and doing it with the frame of mind that is most conducive to growth.
When I came home yesterday, after enjoying the high that came from Sister Mary’s email I opened the Seven Storey Mountain to page 224. Here is what I read:
“I began to desire to dedicate my life to God, to His service. The notion was still vague and obscure, and it was ludicrously impractical in the sense that I was already dreaming of mystical union when I did not even keep the simplest rudiments of the moral law. But this confidence of the reality of the goal, and confident that it could be achieved: and whatever element of presumption was in this confidence I am sure God excused, in His mercy, because of my stupidity and helplessness, and because I was really beginning to be ready to do whatever I thought He wanted me to do to bring me to Him…My internal contradictions were resolving themselves out, indeed, but still only on the plane of theory, not of practice: not for lack of goodwill, but because I was still so completely chained and fettered by my sins and attachments.” ---Thomas Merton.
Suddenly I saw how attached I was to getting my songs out there. Out where? I mean, really, God is everywhere and the songs are to God and for God. But they are also for comforting; I am a comforter. I feel, in my little bean-sprout way that I need to grow in this direction: giving comfort and sharing the infinitely rich and varied expressions of God’s love. The songs express love. That can't be bad. But being attached to whether or not they are ever heard by a wider audience runs the risk of feeding my vanity. It is good to grow and it is good to share our love of God, but not if we are just trying to make ourselves look good. I don't want to appear holy, but only to be holy.
I am very thankful that he showed me how attached I am to human approval. To extend the bean sprout analogy, He sees to it that I get turned ever so often so that I am getting sunlight from more than one direction, so I won’t grow all spindly and crooked; His discipline, the way He shows me my faults makes me stronger and more able to bear beans! Thanks be to God.