Called from the Pews - Unraveling My Story to Pastoral Ministry {{ part two }}

In part one of this series (Called from the Cradle), and encouraged by my education at Calvin Theological Seminary, I have been exploring who God has redeemed me to be—a process of ever-growing sanctification. I shared how God's call began to work in my life through the providentially powerful, and at times painful, experiences of living among the fellowship of believers, particularly in the small-town church where I spent the first decade of my life. Leaving that church wasn't easy, but my dad's new gig as a pharmacy owner required our family of five to relocate to a new town about 25 miles northeast.

In our new suburban/rural town, my sister and I were still very much "country girls" (as my late Uncle Mel would endearingly refer to us). However, when we first visited what would soon become our new church home, it didn't feel as homespun. My 12-year-old self was watching and curious. I noticed first how fancy and fraternal everyone seemed to be. I have now realized I was experiencing a relatively homogeneous socio-economic context, which, by contrast, felt peculiar to the melting pot of members that made up my previous church family. My siblings and I attended a different school than most of our church peers, and it was the first time I had felt so, well --  not known. I wasn't baptized beside these kids, we lacked a shared history. Their parents were also close friends, so their social calendars overlapped regularly at sporting events, camping trips, and spring break adventures. It was a faster-paced world than what I had known, and as a young teen girl trying to navigate puberty and relationships, I wondered if I would be able to break in and find my place in this new place.

Although this memory comes from around 1990 (34 years ago!), it is still potent. I will never cease to stress the power of experiencing practiced hospitality as integral to one's sense of belonging and purpose. Whether at a church, a new job, in the classroom, or within family bonds—to be seen, warmly welcomed, accepted, and known speaks to a profound yearning of our souls. Residing in communities prioritizing social kinship, mutuality, and a non-hierarchical connectedness can be rare. However, I firmly believe these values should be reflected in the body of Christ.

It didn't take long for the girls my age to show hospitality in ways that profoundly impacted me. I remember it vividly even today, recognizing it as a significant milestone on my path to ministry. I knew through Jesus, I that I was welcomed, accepted, known, and fully loved - it became my aim to do the same for another. I had begun to break in, not because of anything I did, but because I was invited and enfolded into that fellowship. I was asked to sit at the table—and this metaphorical table should always have an open spot.

As our family began to feel less like church vagabonds, I began to trust that God could and indeed would continue to develop his call on me in this season. I graduated from high school, and a ministry opportunity was presented. At the time, our denomination was quite invested in developing the leadership skills of its youth in the hopes that these experiences might ignite a passion for serving the local church. Foreign-country mission trips were not as common then, so I (along with three other young women) ended up across the pond of Lake Michigan, landing in fabulous Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin. We had signed up for a one-month stint serving a small, suburban church. It was time for me to sink or S.W.I.M (Summer Workshop In Ministry) 😀

 

As I look back, it took a great deal of courage for me to leave my family and my dear boyfriend for a month, stay in a perfect stranger's house, and step into a church community where absolutely no one knew me, and I knew absolutely no one. Still, I was thrilled for the opportunity that I, a woman, would be given the keys and training to actively serve in the ways I knew I was gifted and uniquely called. During this time, I taught Bible lessons, led in prayer, and actively walked the neighborhood, extending invitations to church services. I wondered as I walked...would the people and families in these homes even feel welcomed if they set foot in the church? 

As a bunch of teenagers, while we were there, we also got new haircuts, shopped regularly at K-Mart, and tried to connect with the teenage girl from the family who hosted us. Side note: if you know me pretty personally, you know the shenanigan effort to which I went to care for and connect with said teenage girl. But I digress. The church pastor (in the red hat below) was vibrant and grounded in the gospel, and from what I observed, he and his wife were faithfully fulfilling their calling in that season. Their servant leadership in the building up and edification of the body of Christ planted a seed in me that I hoped my home church would water so God would bring the increase. (1 Corinthians 3:6-9)

After I returned home, I was invited to share my S.W.I.M. experience during an evening worship service at my church. I was 18 years old with eyes wide open, and was eager to find ways to lead, teach, and minister to my church family, just as I did in Wisconsin. As I have mentioned before, I always paid attention to what was happening in the church, so I felt deeply when tensions and factions arose. I noticed the empty pews where families once sat sharing Dutch peppermints. 

What was happening was a season of division related to matters of women as ordained church office bearers, among other issues. There were theological debates resulting in rigid convictions on each side. Years of discernment, prayer, pain and a certain weariness resulted in a new path forward for the denomination. As a freshly minted adult, I was perplexed: What to make of it all? I still wrestle with and am deeply impacted by the decisions of those days. 

All I knew then was that God created me to serve him and his church, to follow the Great Commission in the ways the Holy Spirit gifted and called me. The next two decades would sharpen not only that desire but also bring into focus the new thing he was calling me to do. Stay tuned for part three. 😀

I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.  So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose, and they will each be rewarded according to their own labor.  For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building. 

1 Corinthians 3:6-9