Soon after, I stood up, walked up to my pastor and peers and declared that “I had just been called to ministry!” And with that, my heart and mind were made up. I felt it in the depths of my being and nothing else mattered.
I was called to serve God in full-time ministry, and that was exactly what I would do.
My journey from that point, to eventually entering full-time vocational ministry, was herky-jerky, but I did end up accepting my first full-time youth pastor position at the ripe age of 26. I remember how I excited I was and how accomplished I felt.
I moved my family six hours from Portland to LaGrande, Ore. There was an old farmhouse behind the church that was converted into a parsonage, which my family and I moved in to, and I quickly settled into my new life as a full-time pastor.
It was about my seventh day on the job when I walked into my office at the church and sat down, looked around at my books, my computer and my hands, and said out loud, “What am I supposed to with myself all day every day?”
This was “ministry” and I was being paid for it. I was confused.
My years in ministry rolled on, and so did the changing roles I held.
I left the youth pastor job at the church in LaGrande after one year to become an itinerate minister. Somehow, it felt more authentic and real for me to be living “by faith” and not just collecting a paycheck. I traveled, taught, preached, led people to Jesus and did my best to encourage leaders everywhere. I was always hungry for more and always looking for God to do something huge.
But slowly, I began finding myself battling a two-headed snake of cynicism and disillusionment. It would come and go, and I somehow always found a way to press on. But I never was able to behead that darn snake entirely.
Eventually, I took jobs in the marketplace and ping-ponged through a couple full-time ministry positions. And, after some time, I came to an uneasy truce with myself and God—I would work a “regular job” while my friends Jim and Mike and I planted a church in Salem, Ore.
We had some good times and some good fruit, but it didn’t last. Mike moved away and Jim and I were left wondering what God had next.
That something, which we had been conversing about for years, was a 24-hour parachurch prayer ministry to the city of Salem. That, as well as a school of leadership development and a ministry for college-age students, began and continues even to this day.
So, why am I sharing all of this?
