We all want lives of meaning and purpose. But how many of us feel that we are living on purpose? Our lives whiz by like a bullet train, with busy to-do lists, social obligations and full-time jobs. We are bombarded by distractions (as fun as they may be) such as Facebook, Instagram and all forms of social media. Days become weeks and then months become years, and are we any closer to our goals?

Is there some divine message, a letter that will be left under our pillow, or a direct revelation from G‑d like Moses experienced at the burning bush? That has not happened to me just yet, but here is what I have learned about finding my calling.

1. Listen to your intuition

Just over three years ago, I went on a Shabbaton with a friend in upstate New York. We arrived on Friday afternoon. We unpacked our luggage, settled into our room, and walked over to the main dining hall in order to light the Shabbat candles. As the saying goes, when in Rome . . .

I lit two candles from amidst the sea of tea lights, and said the blessing. As I finished the prayer, a voice inside me said, “From now on, I will begin lighting Shabbat candles every Friday night.” My gut, my intuition, had spoken loud and clear. Did that mean I would listen? My heart heard, but my mind was skeptical. Okay, we shall see, I thought, as this was probably a passing whim never to be acted upon.

Immediately after lighting, the women were ushered into a room for a class given by Rebbetzin Olivia Schwartz of the Chai Center in Los Angeles, California. What was the topic of the class? One story was about a woman in Russia who, due to the constraints of Communism, did not know the blessing to say over lighting the Shabbat candles. Therefore, she would simply light two candles every Friday night at sundown and repeat aloud all the Hebrew letters that she knew—that was her prayer to G‑d.

In the second story, the rebbetzin discussed a woman who began lighting the Shabbat candles in her seventies. Although she was not religious, no matter what the week brought, she found the time. Even if she went out to dinner on Friday night, she would always light the candles beforehand. One week, while still unfamiliar with the laws of candle-lighting, she was on the road and unable to make it home prior to sundown on Friday. So she popped into a restaurant, received two “holiday” candles (one green and one red), stuck them in a plant and lit her Shabbat candles.

After my own intuitive moment and this class, I simply could not shake the feeling that G‑d was speaking directly to me. Three years later, I am still lighting the Shabbat candles—my weekly date with the divine.

2. Be open to the messages of the moment

One night, I received a text message from an unknown number: “Did you post a message on Facebook a few months ago that if someone needs a car ride he should contact you?”

Yes, I remembered posting that message on Facebook. At the time, a friend who was staying at my apartment had rented a car for the month, and I knew that she would jump at the opportunity to do a chesed (kindness). Since she was home all day while on vacation, I had posted the message to Facebook.

Now, months later, I received this text message. The person contacted me needing a ride to and from the hospital to the city for his mother. My friend was no longer around, and I no longer had a car. However, in these moments we are presented with a unique opportunity to be of service to others. There were many times when I was the recipient of others’ kindness, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to pay it forward.

I offered to call the “guy that I use” (a.k.a. a car service, which I charged to my credit card), and I assured the young man that his mother would receive the ride to and from the hospital. Your calling will not always come in a big flashy spark of light; sometimes it is the small, random acts of kindness that we are sent to this world to do. That night, I knew I was fulfilling my mission on this earth.

3. Get out of your comfort zone

This past July 4th weekend, I had the pleasure of going away to a majestic Jewish farm in the Berkshires. There were birds skimming over the peaceful lake, dunking in and out of the water. A sweet, earthy aroma wafted from the lush green trees. A baby goat ran by me. The setting was optimum for a relaxing, harmonious and uneventful Shabbat.

Friday afternoon, the organizer of the event asked me to give a class on Shabbat afternoon about an article that I had published on the Modeh Ani prayer. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, I agreed. But for the next 24 hours, until the time of my speech, my stomach was in knots. Instead of enjoying the tranquility of the weekend, I was suddenly frenetically preparing for my class.

Why not just cancel the class and spend my time sitting by the lake in peace and calm? Why bother having my nerves at Code Red in order to give a class to 20-plus people? Trust me, I was very tempted to bow out. Perhaps I suddenly would come down with a cold, a sore throat or a headache. . . . However, I was being presented with this chance to share my own challenges and the story of how I emerged victorious. I knew that I would regret letting my fear keep me from achieving my mission in this moment.

Finding our calling is about taking risks, getting outside of our comfort zone and stepping up when called to the plate. It may not be easy. Oftentimes we simply have to roll up our sleeves, work hard, and overcome our own perceived limitations.

Your calling may come in a whisper, in a text message or in a request from another. At the end of the day, focus on one question: Are you listening?