This sermon was preached at LaFontaine UMC on June 11, 2017, the first Sunday following my ordination. I hope by sharing it, it will help you reflect on your own calling, whether it be to professional ministry, or to share your gifts, passions, and graces in another way in God's name.
When I was in eighth
grade, I went
to a revival at my church. I listened to the pastor preach about serving others.
He pointed out two of the members of his church who served others and he
invited us to do the same. I went home that night and I couldn’t shake the
feeling that God was speaking to me. And that night, I told God I would give
him my career, to do with it as he thought best, knowing that it would be a
career marked by service.
There have been lots of bumps in
the road since that initial call, but I have done my best to follow it and as
God often does, he clarified that for me that meant pastoral ministry. In high
school there were those who told me women weren’t called and told me I was
being prideful for even considering being a pastor. And I questioned if God made a mistake.
Then I went college and majored in
pastoral ministry and learned the deep roots of women proclaiming gospel,
starting with the women at the empty tomb and Mary the mother of God. I learned
about the church planters who led churches in Paul’s absence like Dorcas, Julia,
Junia, Lydia, Persis, Phoebe, Priscilla, and Dorcas. I learned how that call
had been carried down through the ages, and how men just couldn’t shut us called
women up.
I started as an associate pastor
at Bremen Church of the Brethren at the age of 20, and learned to pace myself. I
learned to have grace with myself and that ministry does not always go
according to plan.
After I graduated I started
searching for a church to serve with my husband. We went down to Mississippi to
a church of 12 people, and learned what it was to have to close a church.
When we came back and I searched
for 9 months for a church to serve in in the Church of the Brethren and the
Wesleyan Church to no avail, I learned what a woman pastor had told me in
college meant, “If you can do anything else, do it.” Because I couldn’t. I was
relentless. The call was like a fire within me that could not be put out by
being ignored or rejected. I knew that while I had been good at every job I had
had, I was not satisfied with them, and my call weighed heavy on me. And Nick to
this day reminds me of this whenever I am ready to give up.
When a United Methodist Pastor
shared our name with their District Superintendent, I learned what Methodists
meant when they talked about being connectional. It’s more than just a friendly handshake when
we run into each other, but a commitment to work together and support each
other. And when we started co-pastoring
our first 2 point charge, I learned that how a church reacts to the message has
just as much to do with them as it does with the words I share. Same sermon, 2 different
reactions.
When we moved to Saratoga so that
I could go to seminary and serve as a part time pastor, and I worked with the
church to begin supporting a global mission. This year at Annual Conference, I
heard that what started in that little church is still going strong. The
Indiana Conference gave $28,000 to support the three Sierra Leone pastors who
had visited our little church years ago so that they could continue their
seminary education that they may one day teach in a new seminary in Sierra
Leone.
Then God brought me here to
LaFontaine, where I learned the joy of seeing God move in a community in both
personal transformation and the transformation that happens when we work
together. The transformation of this town that is making LaFontaine great again
is because of the people moved by God in our pews and our willingness to
provide financial support as a church to community initiatives like
revitalizing the park and reimagining the town festival.
This year marks 20 years since my initial
call, 14 years that I have been serving as a pastor, 9 years within the United
Methodist church. Some of those years have been harder than others. There have
been times I have been ready to give up, when ministry has felt more like
passion week than the resurrection. When
I have been unsure of whether God’s will would be done at the end of the
day. And there have been moments when I
have felt like the luckiest person in the world. I have seen God heal families in the midst of
death, save marriages, and taken the lonely and given them a place to belong. I
have seen those deserted by their families find their true family in the
church. A family that takes them to doctor appointments, brings them meals, and
even plans their funeral.
I have seen God replace hearts of
stone to hearts of flesh. I have seen God take the dry bones of Ezekiel, and
made a new people loyal to him. I have seen God take the river of life to the
deadest parts of the world. I have seen the
death of Friday and the new life of Sunday.
On Saturday June 10, 2017, for the
first time, I was fully recognize as an equal in our Conference. As an Elder
called by God and given the graces and gifts to fulfill that call in the local
church. It has taken 20 years, 6 churches, and 2 degrees to get to this day.
But what it has taken man so long to acknowledge, has not slowed down God’s use
of me. From the moment he called, the moment I said yes, he started using me
for his good purposes.
Maybe you sense a call in your
life to something more. Maybe God is calling you to a life dedicated to serving
others, as he called me so many years ago. If he is, I encourage you today to
answer that call.
Worship. The kids
had me sweating Friday night. It was 2 minutes before the program, and one
family and my kids were all that had arrived for the program. But sure enough,
by 6:05, we had 19 kids and 22 adults, a total of 41 people worshipping
together! The kids sang praise to God. We offered $144.50 for God to use in his
Lenca church. We heard the messages of hope, calling, forgiveness, and
community. Lastly we thanked God for those who had served and praised God for a
birthday in our midst. Lastly, our kindergarten boy prayed for our meal
together, its own form of communion. 
