In my last post I shared a little bit about my first memory, when I returned to my Illinois roots. But the funny thing about those roots is that they have again been uprooted (I moved from Illinois when I was 2 years old, hence “return” and “again”) When I left for college in the Fall of 2009, I went beyond southern Illinois (where my oldest brother went), through Kansas (where my other brother went) about 50 miles further than Virginia would have been in the opposite direction (where my sister went). But for the record, I didn’t go far away for the sake of distance, I was following my true roots: my roots of faith.
To begin this story, the setting is the back of a church van, headed to youth camp. Who knows why, but we decided to read the Bible, and so I read aloud. After I read, one of my friends commented that I read the Bible so well, I should be a minister. Now don’t get me wrong, I am not pursuing ministry on that comment alone (even if my friend may take credit occasionally), but for some reason I have never been able to shake it. Despite the fact that I immediately rejected the thought of me being a minister and tried to change the topic, that moment began conversations that would change the course of my life. Once again, one of those moments that should have been insignificant, which God used for some higher purpose.
My biggest objection to pursuing ministry was that I absolutely hated speaking in public. But after taking an advanced speech class in high school, I received enough encouragement from my classmates to conquer that fear. So obviously the only logical conclusion was… to look for a new excuse. I objected that I wasn’t called to ministry because I simply didn’t know enough. Of course being a persistent and merciful God, God gave me a chance to learn, so I entered college with a youth ministry major. Had I never moved to Naperville, had I never had a friend point to my gifts, had I never had a youth minister who persistently encouraged me to make time for youth camp, my life could have been completely different; which is precisely why I wanted to be involved in youth ministry.
As I proceeded in the classroom, I found a deep desire to practice what I learned. The summer after my sophomore year in college, I took an internship at my home church in Naperville. For whatever reason, I found no joy the internship! In order to make sense of the disconnect in my experience, I talked with my pastor and a few of my college professors. They advised that my gifts were better suited for preaching and pastoral care. Perhaps, they advised, I felt called to youth ministry because it was all that I had known, but in fact, my gifts were more suited to becoming an ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church. As I began that process, the joy of ministry was restored, and even as I took another youth internship a different summer, I loved every minute of it. It was amazing how God hid the joy of ministry for a season so that I would begin conversations that introduced me to the path he was calling me.
So as I continue on my journey, I will always remember this valuable lesson: there will always be people in any given congregation who have the gifts and passion for a particular ministry that they don’t know exists. However, it will always be important for the members of a congregation to be aware of what they are passionate about and make those gifts available. Even as I prepare for ministry, I have come to appreciate that ministry is combined effort between the laity and the ordained, the members and the pastor. What gifts will you offer?
“Hide not your talents. They for use were made. What’s a sundial in the shade?”
– Benjamin Franklin
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