Telling my Story

i spent the better part of 3 hours trying to write one page. Granted, it was single-spaced, but that is still exceedingly slow for me. Especially when you consider that I know the subject really well… Me.

By the time you get to the end of the road toward ordination, you have shared your “faith journey” expressed  your “sense of call” and prepared your “spiritual autobiography” many times over. 

This week, I was asked to supply my one-page biographical statement for the subcommittee that will determine whether the committee should recommend me to the presbytery for ordination as pastor to FPA.  They needed my Statement of Faith, as well. 

What I write tends to flow straight from my guts/heart into the page, especially when in the personal theological variety. What you read is me, right there in plain English.

 Me, vulnerable on a piece of paper that can be shredded, forgotten, crumpled up and tossed aside.  

Me, in words that can be picked apart and misunderstood and used as weapons or comfort.

I do that every week, I suppose, writing for my sermons and on this blog. But this feels different. These people have the power to say the thing that I fear- we appreciate the time and effort and sacrifice, but no.

I don’t fear the no, per se. It’s the rejection of my offering of myself to the people who broker my relationship to the call of God on my life. 

I don’t anticipate there being issues. The elements of my story are not uncommon. There are no theological mines lurking in my credo. But these people are not the same committee that has prayed for me, nurtured my call, and coached me through the process to get here.  They are unknowns. And they are reading me.

Nothing to do but to Trust and Obey, as the old hymn says. It’s a trust and obey kind of day. 


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