This past Sunday, I was ordained as a minister.
It happened in a small ceremony as part of our church’s regular Sunday service. The pastors and elders invited me up to share a few words, then they prayed over me. It was a short yet meaningful time.
Those of you who know my story might recall my long journey to get to this point. I remember sitting in a service over 12 years ago, casually listening to a sermon, when I felt this sudden impression from God. I don’t even remember what the pastor was talking about. But I sensed a message inside of me that was akin to, “I want you to be a shepherd and feed my flock. I want you to be a pastor.”
God doesn’t usually speak to me in such a way. But I had no reason to doubt it was him. And yet, in that moment, I felt a great sense of dread and fear come upon me. Like, God I think you got the wrong guy. What would my parents think? How would I be able to support a future family? The list of excuses kept rising to the surface.
Over the next decade, I did my best to run in the opposite direction. Not totally, mind you. I was still attending and serving at my local church—but it was all on my own terms and limitations. Serving God was a big thing, but it was also one of many things alongside my career, relationships, experiences, and simply enjoying my 20s. Sure, I was willing to teach Sunday school and youth groups and mentor kids. But it all felt like a way to justify my resistance to the pastorate and indulge the other aspects of my life in which I was more self-serving.
In spite of this, God was kind and patient. Over the years, He showed me through different people, opportunities, and circumstances that the plans He had for my life was better than anything I could’ve planned for myself. I marvel at how He divinely orchestrated my time living with four other bachelors who were graduates of Biola (or Talbot), along with the doors He opened for me to serve on missions, preach, disciple, and receive training in seminary. Indeed, the calling He had for my life was not just a fleeting whisper but a solid affirmation.
All these years later, I’m back at the church I attended right out of college—married with kids, and now, ordained. This is all the grace of God. What’s more, I’m serving alongside both of my former high school and college pastors who had mentored me to this point. (I like to fashion myself a decent storyteller, but even I couldn’t have written something like this for myself.)
Truly, God’s ways are above our ways. There is no one like Him. Against all doubt, He stuck with me and saw me through. And I can now testify to His abundant grace and mercy upon me.
I am equal parts excited and hard-pressed. The responsibilities and tasks will loom larger. There are so many issues plaguing the church and our world, and these burdens can feel quite taxing at times. Many days I am confronted with my own sense of inadequacy. As my friend DK shared, "The only contribution we have to salvation is our sin. The only contribution we have to ministry is our weakness."
Yet, there is a peace in believing that this is right where the Lord wants me to be. And a joy in believing that God will come through in the ways that only He can. And now, in a different sense, I’ll get to have a front row seat to bear witness to it all. May He continue to grant me greater grace and faith in the days ahead to love Him and his people.