“The church has been planted as a paradise in this world.” -Irenaeus of Lyons
“God is telling me to pursue priesthood. It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t get away from it,” she said.
Then she added, “I’m sorry if those words hurt you. I’m sorry if it’s hard to hear what God is doing in my life right now when you feel so lost.”
“Not at all,” I responded. “In fact, it’s encouraging.”
In the last few years, there’s been a lot of talk about sharing our stories. When I was growing up, it was all about giving a “testimony.” No matter what we call it, it’s important to send our expressions into the world. Anyway we want and need to share what God is doing or what we wonder or what we question, we must be true to each of those pieces of our existence as human beings.
Quite honestly, I don’t know what God is doing in my life. I feel as if I’ve been flung into a foreign land for no good reason. I have no beautiful pictures of the church to paint for you right now. I refrain from spilling all I feel about church in this moment because I know she is the Bride. Blameless in the sight of God, even when she does not act according to her call.
With the coming of Pentecost last Sunday, we began the celebration of when the church was established. I love Acts 2. I love what the Holy Spirit did through Peter, who once denied Jesus. I love how Peter testifies of God’s plan since the beginning. It gives me hope.
Hope in a world desperate for the church to act according to its intended purpose to bring life and light in this world. I need to hear the words of my friend who can’t run from God’s call because her story helps me to remember that God is still working and calling his children to step out and be what He created them to be.
I don’t know why God placed a dream that seems impossible now into our own hearts several years ago. But I know I need to hear your story right now, if you are in a place that you can share it. Because maybe a year from now I won’t be able to shut up about what God is doing in and through us, and you will need to hear the story of a girl who loaded a truck, and then a separate trailer behind it because we misjudged the size of the truck we needed, and headed away from the mountains when she heard the words “go” and “gift.”
Maybe we just need to pass around the microphone for a while and share if we are able and listen if that is what we need to do in this season. I’m listening, and even though the same voice that sent me to the middle of America seems to be silent, I think I hear Him somewhere in your words. I hear Him saying He hasn’t given up when I read Peter stating, “The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call.”