Faith in the Uncertainty | A WLI Share Your Story Blog

Can you accept and embrace doing something when that something doesn’t seem like the next logical step for you? An innocent question, but if you’re honest with it, the true motivations of your heart will come to the surface. Whatever your allegiance will be plain to see. If God is truly first, it will be unmistakable. And if He isn’t, well… 

I remember when that question was posed to me in the form of being offered a residency position in the Woodside Leadership Institute. It wasn’t the next logical step for me, at least I thought. I was in seminary at the time, and I thought the next logical step for me was a pastoral position on a church staff. Others agreed. So, my feelings on the matter weren’t entirely siloed from reality. It wasn’t something I was telling myself over and over and was convinced of without any external evaluation. So, I had a decision to make. 

All Christians are called to the ministry of making disciples. And within that call, it’s important to acknowledge that some are uniquely called to ministry as a vocation. That was something that I hadn’t truly considered in my life. I grew up in a family that was heavily involved in the life of the local church. I surrendered my life to Christ at 13, was baptized, served, gave, and immersed myself in the life of the local church. Like everyone else, however, I had interests, desires, dreams, plans. I see your smile. Resonates, doesn’t it? 

But God has His plans and operates differently than we think He should (Isaiah 55:80). And that’s the point. As we process and understand God’s call on our lives, we focus too much on the what and too little on the who. We often spend so much of our emotional and mental capital on what we think we are best suited for in God’s kingdom, what we can do to have the largest impact, what we do best and what we can do to advance the gospel. Granted those things have their place, but we conversely spend very little of our emotional and mental capital on who has called us, who gets the glory (and should get the glory), and whose mission we are a part of. And when the focus is on the what and not the who we easily miss the opportunities God gives us to be more deeply connected to Him and receive what our hearts truly long for. We put ourselves as the focus of God’s mission rather than Him. 

So, when I was asked if I would consider a position as ministry resident, I was a little more than halfway through seminary. Just a few years before I had followed God’s leading to resign from my job and follow Him into uncharted territory. At that time, I was working in Boston in a dream job. But, here God was again, true to His character, asking me to do something that didn’t quite make sense. It wasn’t all that clear why being a resident was His plan. But I said yes according to the peace that God supplied through prayerfully discerning what I should do and trusted relationships in community. 

And looking back now on the decision to accept that residency, it had a part in preparing me for pastoral ministry in two significant ways. First, it made me uncomfortable. I was 43 and old enough to be everyone’s dad. I’ll say what you are already thinking—awkward. I had two teenage sons, not all that younger than everyone in the room. So, there seemed to be no opportunity for connection. What could I possibly contribute to this, and what could I possibly gain? However, in my uncomfortableness I found a great opportunity to continue being formed in the humility of Jesus. I found God placing in me a heart that sees that all he has for me is good regardless of what my eyes (or brain) may want to tell me. And now serving as a pastor, having peace while being uncomfortable is essential to shepherding people as Jesus did. Entering the lives of others, holding it together in the messiness of people’s brokenness and sin, and living with the tension of it all is part of discipleship and pastoring people. He must increase, but I must decrease (John 3:30). 

Second, it positioned me to wait. None of us like waiting. But waiting on God is one of the central experiences of the Christian life.1 Let’s consider some examples, shall we?2 Abraham and Sarah waited not minutes, not days, not weeks, but more than two decades for God to follow through on His promise. Moses waited four decades for God’s purpose to become clear enough to obey it. Paul waited over 15 years before starting his ministry assignment. Waiting brings us to the end of ourselves, the end of our thinking, the end of our strength. Waiting develops deep roots of trust that allow us to last in ministry because at the end of ourselves, we find the fullness of God as we depend on Him completely. In his book, Trusting God, Jerry Bridges says, 

“Trust is not a passive state of mind. It is a vigorous act of the soul by which we choose to lay hold on the promises of God and cling to them despite the adversity that at times seeks to overwhelm us.”3 

When we want something that we end up having to wait for—be it a position on a church staff or anything else—it tests our resolve and reveals our hearts. Are you willing to wait? Are you ready to wait? One thing you can be sure of is that there is work in the waiting. And if you are willing to wait on God for the character of Christ to be formed in you then the fruit of that Christ-like character will be harvested from you for the good of others.  

So, back to our question. Can you accept and embrace what the Lord gives you and be faithful with it? Especially when, on the surface, it may not be what you had your sights on. Perhaps the most recurring lesson of my life might help you answer. God never calls you to something you don’t need Him for. What is God asking you to do and why haven’t you done it yet?