It was a few weeks ago as I sat in my pastor's office, on the verge tears, as I wrestled to speak what I felt God had put in my heart.
It was a whisper.....Pastor.
It was a rolling thunder bursting forth.....Pastor.
A small word, with so much weight and it had rolled around in my heart for several weeks. While weeks are certainly not a lengthy amount of time, they had seemed like eternity as my heart grew restless and my spirit began to long. Yet I kept it in, hiding the words the Spirit had put on my heart - fear ruling rather than love reigning. Then in a prayer service, where my heart wasn't there and everything was distracting me, I opened my Bible, like I had as a child seeking God's words to me. I sought something to ease the angst, as my eyes fell upon the Psalms, the words leaping on the page speaking what I had yet to say. In the Psalm called "Triumphant Song of Confidence" I read "One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord" and I was uplifted. Then as my eyes swept over "If my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me up", I began to weep. All the fears came out, with sobs that threw my whole body. My inability to stand in the midst of this call, the fear of never being accepted, the words of two decades defining my identity, everything knocked at my heart burying me and telling me I could never be what the Spirit spoke.
It took two hours that night for my husband to pull out of me the Spirit's whisper. Yet the relief I felt in the sharing of this new "call", was unbelievable and with his encouragement I met with my pastor (which had been happening semi-regularly). Though it was with a lot of apprehension & anticipation with this new agenda. It was during this visit, the words pastor rolled in my heart and poured them out to my pastor. Being the first real pastor I could claim in my life, I doubted myself, wondered what he would say, fearful that every affirmation of my administrative skill would manifest and he'd encourage that but detour any other pastoral role.
Being a feminist, I knew my pastor supported women ministers - but I figured I'd be an exception. That he'd see the traits everyone else saw, but not look beyond them - assuming my role instead of speaking something that only God could fulfill. I was blessed when he said that he'd probably have his own agenda to nurture a Pentecostal women minister, and that I'd need to discern my call so I wouldn't be swayed by his agenda. Such a better response that I supposed! Then he asked about my family, would they support me? I doubted it, but I said, "In every area my parents and sisters have placed me in an exception - in leadership, in marriage; they respect my difference. So if they were to approve of anyone, it'd probably be me. But I don't know if they will."
I left that meeting encouraged, but assumed it'd be years for that to manifest with my parents. But God always meets us where we are! It was two days later, that my dad would have the Spirit press upon him to apologize for a hurt towards me, and release me to ministry (all without me saying anything!). Then my mom told me that her heart would be saddened if I wasn't involved in ministry and she was glad I'd be pursuing it more. After I expressed my fear of rejection, by those I value most - the Spirit honored me, and the values God put in me, by allowing my parents to express affirmation of my call and my identity in the church.
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I am reminded today about the burden of being the exception to the rule. Once again a family situation came up, where disagreements were likely but the various members deferred to me, and I was reminded me they wouldn't do that except for me. Being the exception sounds amazing, it seems like it would be an elitist role, a place of pride and honor. While it contains within it the possibility for such things, the daily living is one more of responsibility, of weightiness, of potential isolation, and the knowledge that you bear other's because of your exception. It is a role that can't be carried alone, it is not for one pair of shoulders to bear. A partner to my right, and the Spirit living inside is the only way to move forward.
Today I was so sharply reminded of my inability to do this - to live this exception - on my own. Being in a job that I am affirmed constantly, situations where I am often the "smartest in the room" and where my wit and naturally gifting can often lead difficult situations - I'm pretty resourceful. I really can do it on my own a lot of the time.
It was the third or fourth meeting with my pastor when my calling seemed to change, but the process really began in the first time. When he looked at me, and echoed the same wonders my husband had said days before, "You will learn your value before God. He will let you decide how." I can't weigh my value in how well I do things, as I always have but rather I need to know my value by the fact that He loves me and that is value enough. My pastor saw that I had never failed, and that was almost preventing me from seeing my value in God - because I was able to do it on my own. But as my beloved husband pointed out again today, my best self is void of the Spirit and tries to do it alone, which leaves everything unsatisfactory.
So I write today to say,
I am an exception.
Not compared to you, not to my parents or to my church - I am an exception by the grace of God to myself. He has formed me to be sufficient but horribly insufficient, to be competent and yet desperately in need. In living this life, I can fulfill enough on my own to be considered satisfactory or even good but yet I can't be great, or actually change the world for the Kingdom of God on my own. My heart is void of good when I am separate from God - for He gives me the ability to empathize, to care, to love.
I may be called to be a pastor, but I am first called to follow the Shepherd, joining in this dance with the Spirit, moving towards my Father's home. He is my standard, and I fail miserably, But God.....
