A month ago I wrote a blog asking questions about my future. (You can read it here.) I’ve been running around in a what felt like a haze of confusion for several months. . .ok, years. . .doubting my call to the ministry. I’ve tried leaving the ministry and was pulled back in. I’ve tried creating a “fall back career” in case the self-doubt was right and I’m *not* called to the ministry. That didn’t work.

Nothing but ministry has worked.

My heart beats for ministry, for children, and for their families. My haze of confusion wasn’t confusion, really. It was doubt.
Doubt caused by, perhaps, unleashed or untapped potential.
Potential shackled by fear.

I’m familiar with this fear, and in turn, this paralyzing self-doubt. As a sophomore in high school, I was sitting on a mountain of potential as a French horn player. It came easily and naturally to me so I loved to do it. But I was only doing “just enough”. “Just enough” to beat Seth in chair tests, which literally never happened. . .I have a theory about that, but I digress. I never did well at all region auditions, even though I could’ve. Eventually, there was a conversation.

I don’t remember the words, but I remember the idea of the conversation my band director had with me. A frustrated, impassioned plea for me to get off my keister and just practice better. Not more often, but smarter so that this untapped potential could be set free. So I did. I never did it for myself, though, I did it so I wouldn’t disappoint him. I learned to practice better. I sought him and the assistant director for private coaching time in addition to my private lessons. I became a good horn player. And somewhere along the way I learned the nuances of being a musician, not just a good horn player.

I doubted I could ever be good enough because I was too afraid to fail, so I never tried. I did the bare minimum in school because I was too afraid to fail. . .except Chemistry. . .I’m pretty sure I failed all on my own in chemistry.

I was aware of none of this, though. I pulled on a veil of humor, of false bravado, and a devil-may-care attitude to compensate for my paralyzing fear of failure. This did nothing for me except to ensure that I was always held captive by it. One ill spoken criticism or critique, even well intentioned, would topple the fragile acropolis of my self-esteem and send me spiraling into a rabbit hole of stubborn refusal and juvenile petulance.

As one who is led by my heart above all things, I continued in ministry throughout my twenties, even though there were obnoxiously difficult experiences. In the face of these experiences, I would want to flee, be finished with ministry and the church and everything it stands for. I tried to. I tried to run to as far away as I possibly could. Twice.
Except. . .I didn’t get very far, either time.

Recently, I found that familiar wash of fear/doubt/shame begin to creep in again. In my finite wisdom, I thought of a back-up plan, just in case something went awry and I needed to pull the rip cord.
Have I mentioned that I am ferociously stubborn?
I knew what happened to Jonah. (You can read it here, in you’d like). I could infer what would happen to me, but I thought I was playing it safe. I wasn’t completely jumping ship, I was simply padding myself in case I needed to.

Having a back-up plan, or an escape route, or even a parachute is not what living life in the Spirit of God is about. Faith demands a trust that erases the need for a back-up plan.
Faith demands a trust that propels us forward in spite of fear, in spite of doubt, and in spite of trouble.

Faith is akin to courage. Mary Anne Radmacher said, “Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I’ll try again tomorrow.” Faith is the trust that keeps walking, even when all around is dark and the path unclear.

My path is still fairly unclear. The way around is dark. But, my friend Beth was right.
All was well.

 

Peace be the journey.