Where your passion thrives best
I cannot believe I’m writing these words. The fact that I’m writing them means we’re minutes away from throwing the switch, launching Reframe and moving ahead to change the world. Six months ago, when I first started imagining what something like this would be like, I had no clue how complicated it was to actually build something bigger than myself.
I think that’s the key here at Reframe: To build something bigger than us.
We’re in the business of initiating change. Change that’s built on the back — err, fingers — of writers who want to make the world a better place with and because of their words. We’re doing work that matters. Because it’s what we were called to do.
That word hasn’t always set well with me. “Called.” It’s used a lot in church world. “She was called into ministry.” That just doesn’t sound genuine. Did God pick up the phone and dial her a line down from his throne? If so, where’s my call? As I toyed with what Reframe was really about — more than just a publication of words by writers — I found myself using and hearing the word passion more and more often.
We often use words without ever examining what they really mean. (An epiphany I recently had was how convenient “convenient stores” are. Sometimes a cigar really is a cigar, right?) Passion is one of those words. It’s a hook word. Put it on a poster — “Pursue Your Passion At Baylor University And Go Places” — and it makes for great marketing. Chasing a career in your area of passion is a great thing. But it’s not all that great a thing if you have no idea what, where or who your passion is found in.
That’s what I like about maps. “Hey: the store you’re looking for is at 2nd St. and Clay Ave.” Easy. But, as has been said a million times before, life comes with no roadmap, no guidebook.
That doesn’t mean life lacks indicators for the road ahead.
Growing up, my brother and I never knew the name of the street we lived off of. Instead, we called it “the road with the horses” because, just up the road, AP Merritt’s horses grazed in a pasture at the corner of the intersection we turned at. In high school, I told friends to turn “at the candy cane pole” because there was a stop sign by our road with illuminating hazard tape on it that was red and white, like a candy cane. While these might not have been exact locations, they were still indicators that got you where you needed to go. Maybe life’s like that. Giving us hints and clues and roads with horses on the corner. Nudging us where to turn toward our passion.
The two biggest indicators I’ve found for this — my “candy cane poles” of life, so to speak — are community and calling. Over the years, my community, the friends I’ve comes to know and enjoy, and my calling, the thing that gets me excited in the morning, have moved closer and closer together. I don’t think that’s coincidence.
And, so, Reframe is pursuing that point, that GPS coordinate. We’re doing it through sharing stories about vulnerability and caring, through discussing hard issues through new perspectives in safe spaces, through swimming in all the confusing and hurt and frustration life pushes on us. We’re doing this together. Because we’ve realized — and we sincerely hope you will join us — we can certainly get there faster, alone. But we can go further, together.
The intersection of community and calling: that’s where passion thrives best. That’s where we’re headed.
Won’t you join us?
I recently did an interview about the purpose and origin of Reframe. If you’re interested in learning more about us, this is a great place to start.
You can also contact us here for more information or about an interest in joining our team of writers.