We are all called to Ministry

A part of my life started at the end of a driveway.

At our former home, I stood at the end of the driveway one day, waiting for a delivery. It was a friend, or perhaps I should say someone I knew. She was driving by with her husband to drop off to me her ministerial robe. I didn't have one of my own at that time, and I had been asked by my cousin to officiate at his wedding. So, there I stood, waiting for a borrowed robe.

This moment was highly folded, with many layers. I knew I wasn't an "official officiant." Not yet ordained, I did not really have "the power invested in me." My cousin and his fiancée had already been to see the judge, and now it was up to me to bless them in front of friends and family, giving a spiritual theme to their already legal union. I was on fire with enthusiasm and delighted to be a part of their special day. I was also in turmoil about not being "real." And I hated nothing more than waiting for that borrowed robe. I wanted the embroidered initials inside to be mine, I wanted the robe to be my own, and I wanted to know I had the blessing of the church behind me.

Years have gone by since the incident in the driveway. I own my own robe with my own initials. I have some of my very own stoles - all of them special gifts from beloved friends. I have run a million miles since then, and yet, I find myself in similar places as that day. Although circumstances are different, I remain in some way a minister in a borrowed robe.

The Church, for various reasons, has still not blessed me, at least in no formal capacity. It is a long story, and a deep struggle. I have laid awake at nights and I have driven friends crazy unraveling my story. I have talked to God, and I have doubted my calling. I have studied and read and sought counsel. I have tested well and gone before committees and written curriculum and preached from time to time. I have been angry and sad.

Yet, friends have blessed me from within and without, reinforcing my calling and my faith. As my friend and mentor James Manley once recommended, I have found "personal church," those who influence my life and that can be trusted as truth tellers. How gifted I am by these people!

Through it all, I can say that I have seen some of the worst and the best within the institutional church.

And - I have unfolded, growing, slowly, surely. Green shoots through sidewalks.

What I have learned and come to understand is that ministry is not about seeking the blessings of others. Ministry is about sharing blessings with others. It is about the ordinary, everyday, daily grind of need and care. It doesn't need to be regulated or showcased or rubber stamped. Jesus didn't care a thing about any of that. Jesus just jumped in and got dirty.

I know that for some time I have been so exhausted by the need to perform that I have often missed the opportunity to serve.

The gift of this failure, this "not yet" time, this waiting - call it what you will - is that I have unearthed myself in ways I wouldn't have otherwise. Don't get me wrong - I would trade the pain for a smoother path. But I find that at some point you have to investigate what's growing down there in the muck. What is coming to life that wasn't growing before? What is the next step? What would happen if you just nurtured that?

In the years since the driveway incident, I have been highly influenced in two camps. One has been the desperate need to help other people. They are all over the world, and they also live in my own house. Everywhere you look there is help needed. And I know for sure that I have been blessed, and that my help is needed. This is a call to ministry - no matter what you are "officially."

The second way I have been influenced is the desperate need for self care. In Christian circles, we are often taught to put ourselves low on the chart. And yet, Jesus' greatest teaching was to "love others as you love yourself." That implies self-love.1 We must put ourselves higher in the chain of care, or otherwise, and quite frankly, we won't be around to care for others. This too is a call to ministry - as one does not exist without the other.

The balance is appealing to me, and I think strikes the heart of what Jesus was trying to teach. What would life be like if we changed our mindset on ministry? What if we saw with new eyes the needs around us, as gracious opportunities to service? What if that changed our eye rolls and sighs into a changed life?

Over the next year, I am committing to exploring what this means. I am going to blog, and write, and share my journey. I know I won't always have the best attitude. I know I won't always make the right decisions or say things the right way. I'm probably going to complain and feel uncomfortable. But I am going to look for chances to "get dirty with Jesus" so to speak. I'm going to focus on how I can care for myself, while balancing that with finding ways to serve others. I am saying right now in front of God and everybody that the next year will be a journey toward looking for missed opportunities, both for myself and others. I'm going to see what Jesus was really talking about, if I possibly can. And I'm going to focus more on sharing blessings than seeking them. I think in doing so, I might be making a significant impact on those flowers in the cement.

I hope it will be part of your journey too - I'd like to invite you along! In fact, here's a way you can help me grow. Let me know about places where you see a need. Let me know about people that are blessing you. Share your stories of real life, every day, down and dirty, boringly normal ministry opportunities.

Because we are ALL called to ministry. Amen.

In Wisdom,
Brandi Calhoun Diamond

1 - I have been very influenced by the ScreamFree Institute and the writings of Hal Runkel on this matter. Hal suggests that when we care for ourselves, we are better able to care for others. He has compared the difference self-care makes to this; when we care for ourselves, we WANT to serve others, rather than feeling overwhelmed, resentful, or obligated.