As I have been working through this June Tune-Up, I have been reading two different copies of The Call. One stays at work and one stays at home. Somewhere along the way I discovered that they are apparently different editions because some of the chapter titles and numbering do not quite line up.
At first that bothered me. I wanted everything to match perfectly. Then I realized it really didn't matter.
The ideas still line up.
In fact, that may be one of the unexpected lessons of this entire project. The biggest difference is not between the editions of the book. The biggest difference is between the person reading it now and the person who first read it years ago.
When I first worked through The Call, I was captivated by questions of vocation, mission, and direction. I wanted to know what God wanted me to do and how I could make the greatest impact possible.
Reading it again today, I find myself asking different questions. What sustains a calling over decades? What causes people to drift? What keeps a person faithful? How do we finish well?
That is why these recent chapters have felt so important. Guinness has spent time exposing the things that quietly sabotage a calling—pride, envy, greed, sloth, and worldliness. Having diagnosed some of those dangers, he now begins turning toward the positive side of the equation.
Today let's chat about Abraham Kuyper, one of the most fascinating figures in the entire book. Every time I encounter his story, I have the same reaction. Part of me is inspired and part of me is exhausted just reading the list of things he accomplished.
Kuyper served as a pastor, professor, journalist, politician, educator, editor, and eventually Prime Minister of the Netherlands. His influence touched nearly every sphere of public life. Reading his biography almost makes you wonder if he ever slept.
And yet, what struck me this time was not the length of his resume. It was something Guinness mentions almost in passing. During one of the most difficult seasons of his life, after years of public service and enormous pressure, Kuyper suffered a nervous breakdown. In the midst of that struggle, he wrote words that reveal the source of his motivation.
Above his bed hung a crucifix, and he wrote that when he looked at it, it was as though Christ was asking him, "What is your struggle compared to my bitter cup?"
That perspective sustained him.
The older I get, the more interested I become in what sustains people than what they accomplish.
When I first read The Call years ago, I think I was fascinated by culture changers. I loved reading about William Wilberforce, Joshua Chamberlain, Jonathan Edwards, Abraham Kuyper, and others whose lives seemed larger than life. There was something inspiring about people who left such a visible mark on the world around them.
I still find those stories inspiring, but I think I read them differently now.
At fifty, I probably asked, "How do people make that kind of impact?"
At sixty-two, I find myself asking, "What kind of life sustains that kind of faithfulness?"
Those are not exactly the same question.
One of the dangers of reading biographies is that we can become preoccupied with the extraordinary and miss the ordinary. Most of us are not going to become prime ministers, famous authors, military heroes, or historical figures. Most of us are going to spend our lives in classrooms, offices, homes, churches, businesses, neighborhoods, and communities.
Yet that is exactly where calling is lived out.
One of Kuyper's most famous statements was:
"There is not one square inch of the entire creation about which Jesus Christ does not cry out, 'This is mine!'"
Guinness returns to that idea repeatedly because it strikes at one of the great mistakes Christians often make. We divide life into sacred and secular categories. We imagine that ministry matters but business does not. Church matters but government does not. Worship matters but education does not.
Kuyper rejected that distinction entirely.
If Christ is Lord, then He is Lord everywhere.
For years I have believed that Christian education provides one of the greatest opportunities to shape future leaders. Not because every student will become famous or hold public office, but because every student will influence someone. Some will become teachers. Some will become parents. Some will become business leaders. Some will become pastors. Some will quietly serve in places that never make headlines.
And that is enough.
Perhaps one of the mistakes we make is assuming that making a difference always means becoming well known.The longer I live, the more convinced I become that the world is changed primarily by ordinary people who take their calling seriously. Not in big moments- in small encounters.
A teacher who faithfully loves students for thirty years.
A mother who raises children with wisdom and grace.
A businessman who conducts himself with integrity.
A coach who shapes character.
A pastor who preaches truth.
A friend who remains loyal.
Those lives rarely attract biographies, but they leave an imprint nonetheless.
As I read this chapter, I found myself wondering if the real challenge is not whether we dream big enough. It may be whether we are willing to be faithful where God has already placed us.
It is easy to imagine changing the world somewhere else. It is harder to see the opportunities sitting directly in front of us.
Perhaps that is why calling is such a powerful idea. It reminds us that significance is not ultimately measured by visibility. The question is not how many people know our name. The question is whether we are faithfully serving the One who called us.
And if Kuyper is right, that calling extends to every square inch of life.
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