I co-deaned a grandparent/child church camp this past Monday… I co-deaned it with my children’s minister. At lunch and dinner I could hear her talking to her coworkers at the camp who she’s know for decades saying “this is the young lady I brought with me, and she’s in the process of discerning a call for ministry.” And all I could think in my head was “No! Don’t tell them! Now it’s out and what if I’m not cut out for this? I want with all of my heart to serve the church as a minister in… something… But. What if it doesn’t work out? What if they ask me questions? What if they hear me read Psalm 19 after one heck of an exhausting four days and realize how much I trip over my words? What if they find out?”
I don’t know what I’m so afraid of. But I’m afraid. I’m also really excited at the possibility of finding a mentor in the next couple of years and being in a group of other people my age who are also in “the process”. But right now. In this very moment. I’m mostly just scared. I’m about to move and whichever church I choose is the church I also choose for my sister… It’s the church she’ll be raised in. My twin and I changed churches around the same age and it’s kind of a big deal. So maybe I’ll work on finding the two of us a good fit and then worry about “the process”. Introduce myself as the scattered girl who stumbles over words and is loving every terrifying step of discernment. I have the time, I think. If there’s anything God has with me, it’s patience.