This is the lowest point I've ever been since I first felt the call at age 15. No one could have told me that it was going to get so tough so soon.
I wasn't scared of the call back then. Sure, I argued with God, told Him that's not what I wanted to do.
Hey, I wanna be a nurse, remember? There's an abundance of pastors and missionaries in my family. I'm not interested.
God doesn't change His mind, though. A few months of impression got that through my stubborn head. He couldn't have made it clearer. My peers in school labeled me "pastor material", various individuals began to look up to me as a spiritual leader, and trusted adults in my life who were in ministry themselves affirmed my calling - the climax was a meeting with a female pastor there in my own conference who looked me straight in the eyes and said she saw my calling.
I was set. I knew what I was supposed to do.
But at the time, you understand, it wasn't much of a life decision. It felt easy as a teenager on a Seventh-day Adventist academy campus where I was surrounded by people giving me a mix of rules, directions, and advice 24/7. Unlike some of my peers, I was ok with the directions and rules. Well most of them, at least. That was how I grew up. This was a direction from God - it seemed no different. So once I got off the train of what I wanted to do and jumped on the one where His will is the conductor, it wasn't a big deal. I was just a kid who loved Jesus. It was simple.
The kid who loved Jesus is still there. She hides behind a battered and broken woman quite a lot, but she's there. Thank God she is. Jesus said unless you become as a little child, there is no entering the Kingdom of Heaven. Nonetheless, what felt easy as a high school freshman seems daunting for me now as a sophomore in college. 15-year-old me and 20-year-old me are drastically different people in some ways.
Back then, I still needed to get through the requirements and tedious factors of high school, have good enough grades to get into an Adventist university and keep living life, aware that I had a lot of growing up to do. But the years flew by, and now here I am, speeding towards the end of my second year at Southern Adventist University, and I'm terrified of how real this is becoming.
I am as of last week a ministerial trainee of the School of Religion. I'm headed for upper-division religion courses and the beginning of a two-year externship as a student pastor. I'm in an environment where the support is overwhelming. Yet at the same time, the criticism and biting comments of those who are against women in ministry are slowly rising around me, even in certain areas of my personal life that hit too close to home. Combine that with my own doubt and fears, and for the first time since I said yes to God's call five years ago, I'm ready to fight Him about it.
People HATE the idea of a woman pastor, Lord. I can't do this! I'm too weak, too unqualified, too afraid. Jesus, it's too much...why are You calling me?
I believe I am experiencing the battle with the call that everyone who faces it understands. Most get it when they first feel the call. Sure, I told God I wasn't interested, but it wasn't a harrowing life-changing battle that took months or years to overcome. It didn't hurt. It wasn't difficult.
Until now. Now I'm fighting. I'm afraid. I'm overly conscious of my own failings and fears. I'm burdened by the challenges staring me in the face that no man called to ministry will ever encounter or understand.
As I say this, my thoughts wander to my boyfriend, also a theology major battling his calling. But his battle is for different reasons, and one of the main reasons for my struggle he can never fully comprehend. My thoughts go to the many people who have affirmed me - family, pastor friends, professors, peers at SAU, etc. I then think with gratitude and compassion of my fellow female religion majors who firsthand understand the unique battle. I remember every moment God has used one of these precious individuals to remind me, "Hey Michelle, it's Me who has called you. Don't be afraid."
Easier said than done. The words I either heard during my Intro to Ministry class my first semester at Southern or during a ministerial training event, one of the two, come to my mind; your calling will shatter you.
I didn't understand that at the time. Now, I'm beginning to. But I'm not naive enough to think this is the worst of it. Yes, I've been literally brought to my knees weeping from fear and frustration a few times fairly recently, but it's going to happen again. I'm a PK. I have pastor friends. Most of my college friends are also ministerial students battling the same things. I've seen firsthand how the calling can shatter. I simply didn't realize it would be this early.
I feel as though I'm walking a tightrope, fearful of crashing and breaking. This accepting of the call means battling the call. It's the scariest thing I've ever done. But...it will be ok. For the one simple reason that He holds me with His righteous right hand. He is good. He is trustworthy. He has never abandoned those He called. He is constantly whispering to me, "Don't be afraid."
This battle with the call, as I call it, isn't truly my battle at all. It's a won war and I have my Warrior. I am safe. I am secure. Even in the midst of the war zone.
