Over a year after being called into ministry, I started to become frustrated that I wasn’t making more headway. I was willing. I was able. I was ready. I knew that I couldn’t stay in my career in Financial Services. I couldn’t tell my clients that I would be with them until retirement. My heart was not there any longer. However, I was not offered any positions in ministry. I had started to nanny 2 sets of twins on a part-time basis. They both needed a nanny and I could bring my youngest son while my oldest was in school. Hours were flexible and I could still do school work during nap times.
When my youngest was old enough for school, I took on a full-time office job. I really wanted a job in ministry, but that hadn’t happened yet. I felt I was just waiting. A good Pastor friend of mine told me that sometimes it’s not because we are not ready, but God is putting all of the pieces together. God may have been working on my husband or our kids to be ready. I have to laugh because in hindsight after being ministry, I truly was not ready. One is never truly ready to take on ministry. That is why we always need to rely on God.
This office job was a total blessing. I got paid well by a company that seemed to enjoy spending money. I worked minutes from home. When I wasn’t busy, I could actually work on my classes at work! There was plenty of time off and holiday pay. If I had a child that had to stay home sick, the company let me work from home. I am so thankful that God provided this opportunity during this time. It also allowed me to do my work and leave it there at the end of the day which was extremely valuable to me.
I knew something was going to change this fall, but I thought it would be in FT ministry. I feel like Sundays are going well. I have received great feedback. I am building amazing relationships with the kids. Why am I not a Pastor yet? I will be completed with all of my classes by the end of the year.
I was also given this poem from another trusted Pastor friend. I hope you enjoy it.
by Russell Kelfer
Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .
And the Master so gently said, “Wait.”
“Wait? you say wait?” my indignant reply.
“Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I’m claiming your Word.
“My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I’m needing a ‘yes’, a go-ahead sign,
Or even a ‘no’ to which I can resign.
“You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I’ve been asking, and this is my cry:
I’m weary of asking! I need a reply.”
Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, “Wait.”
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, “So, I’m waiting for what?”
He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, “I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.
“I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You’d have what you want, but you wouldn’t know Me.
You’d not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You’d not know the power that I give to the faint.
“You’d not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You’d not learn to trust just by knowing I’m there.
You’d not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see.
“You’d never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you’d not know the depth of the beat of My heart.
“The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that’s beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.
“You’d never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I’m doing in you.
“So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait.”