One Shoe: News and Provision and Other Things

A little over two years ago Seth and I both had a feeling bouncing around inside of us that change was on the horizon--that he was being called to go back to school. To seminary, to be exact. This feeling took hold and grew into plans that were made in the midst of a miscarriage and post-partum depression and health problems and marital conflicts, plans that were sometimes so scary to me that I couldn't talk about them. Plans that involved him quitting his career-path job that he had worked hard to attain, plans that involved the unknown and the difficult, that would call for sacrifice of time and finances, plans that would require faith, courage, and trust. 

I told Seth, finally, that I was 100% supportive of the decision to go back to school on two conditions.

1. Promise me we won't have to move. 

2. Promise me you won't become a pastor.

We agreed.

Seth left the airport on furlough in December of 2014, began seminary online at Golden Gate Baptist Theological Seminary in February of 2015, and he started his new job, breading chicken at Chick-Fil-A, in March of that year. 

Seth had always wanted to continue with school, but we had never been able to justify the cost. It didn't make sense--with the time and the money--to go to school to get a degree (like our undergrad degrees) that didn't immediately qualify him for a job that would reimburse our expense. Quitting his job at the airport to go work at a fast-food restaurant while we took out loans to get a degree that gave us no more options than we currently have. . . Well, it just didn't make sense. I know that when Seth quit the airport there were probably crowds of raised eyebrows behind us, but, thankfully, we only received support and encouragement from everyone.

The decision still didn't make sense on paper. Upon finishing seminary, Seth would graduate with a Masters of Divinity and be fit for work at a church. But the only thing was, we weren't interested in leaving our church. Or moving. Or being a pastor. And there were no other positions likely to open up. So, our options were basically what they currently were. Continue serving Harvest in any capacity we could--on the deacon board, in children's ministry, preaching on the rotation, and maybe Seth could teach adjunct at a college around here. Or maybe some other para-church organization would hire him part time. We didn't know what God had planned for after school, but we knew this one step to take and so we took it.

We never imagined that God would provide an opportunity so quickly--and so fitting for Seth.

Within six months, he was offered the position of Children's Ministry Coordinator at Harvest, the church we've called home for almost a decade. It was such an unexpected blessing--the opportunity itself and the desire and provision to serve in that capacity. Seth continued part-time at CFA, and he and I worked diligently side-by-side together at home and at church to coordinate our lives and  family and service to others. We had a new and healthy baby (which meant I was no longer pregnant--hooray!), we were doing work, together, that we loved, our boys were thriving, God was providing for us in ways we couldn't imagine--the fortitude to continue when things were difficult and straining, and the financial provision for a graduate degree of 90+ hours while feeding and clothing a family of five. 

I was probably the happiest I had ever been. We felt so together. It felt right and purposeful and good.

Less than a year after Seth started as the Children's Ministry Coordinator our Lead Pastor resigned, and the church asked Seth to step in for the summer to help cover the gaps. He was made full-time, titled "Interim Administrator," and we were wide-eyed with gratitude and humility as he accepted that position and ran with it. The summer was very busy--with Seth running upstairs for coordinating adult services and downstairs for children's ministry. Meeting people, writing recommendation letters, planning and executing VBS, going to Board meetings, preaching his first sermon, filling in for nursery workers, changing lightbulbs, having families over for dinner, and loving every minute of it.

Remember when I basically taunted God with my plans not to move or be a pastor's wife?

Yeah.

I didn't account for the fact that he might change our hearts.

The rest of the story felt like a very natural progression, and at the Congregational Meeting in October Seth was voted into a newly-titled position of "Coordinating Minister."

Pastor might not be the title, but it's the vocation. Pastoring. Shepherding. Caring for. Ministering. Coordinating. Mobilizing. Teaching. Loving.

After the vote, Seth and I talked about how we felt.

I said that it felt a little anti-climactic. I said, "It seems like we should celebrate, but all I can really think is that there is work to be done, and I'm excited to start doing it."

And that's really how it's been. We are grateful and humbled and excited and very busy. :)

Sometimes I get scared about my "two conditions" for school. What if God asks us to leave this place? Our church, our friends, this town? It is in my nature to not trust goodness. To be skeptical and try to peak around the corner of joy to see what might be lurking behind it. But then I remember how God took something that I was afraid of, that I didn't want, and made it a huge part of my heart that couldn't be turned off. It was natural and it became my desire. And I think that I have to trust that moving would happen that way, too. (Although maybe, Kristen, next time don't taunt God with what you refuse to do.)  I am a little afraid that this is all too good to be true. That we are too young to have arrived at a vocation that we love. (Isn't that silly?) I am a little afraid that we will face crisis or tragedy as a way of paying for this goodness. But I am trying to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm trying to trust and enjoy. I am hoping that one day I become convinced, as Anne Lamott says, that "God only has one shoe."