The great thing about growing up is discovering what God really wants you to do with your life, rather than chase after the things that you think you want to do.  Another way of describing this realization is you finally decide to quit running from God and start instead running with God. 

I always tell folks that I am a “fifth career pastor” and that usually gets a smile.  After all, I have always been a headstrong person who wanted to do things her own way.  I went to art school in the middle of a liberal arts education during the 60’s, chased the almighty dollar in the 70’s, lived as an artist and teacher in the 80’s and finally discovered during the 90’s when I was in the middle of a sales career with the Prudential that I was called to work for the true Rock of Ages.  Add to that mix the joys and heartaches of being a wife and mother, and you get the short version of my life.

I am the very last person in my family anyone would think of becoming a minister in a mainline denomination. God first called me in the early 80’s at a time when I had rejected the very existence of any higher power.  When my heroes, the Kennedy brothers and Martin Luther King, were being assassinated and my friends were dying in a senseless war in Viet Nam, I decided that if God were truly God, he wouldn’t let these terrible events happen. I looked for a god that met my definition of a true god.  I sought God in nature, in the cosmic consciousness, and tried eastern religions on for size.  When I couldn’t find a god that met my requirements, I decided that there was no god—I became an atheist.  Then I tried to find my salvation in good works in the political and human realms, but while I did good for my community, I still could find no god that was truly good and truly powerful enough to be worthy of my belief.

But God still believed in me, even when I couldn’t believe in God. In the early 80’s I was riding across the Continental Divide in Colorado at the first break of spring.  The mountain streams were still half choked with ice, the snow still glistened on the ground, and the sun’s light was not yet able to fully warm the earth.  On any given day, I would have thought, “what a great landscape painting that would make.”  But God reached into my mind and spoke:  “I am the God of Abraham and Isaac, the God of your parents.  I have a plan for your life and it’s not what you’re doing now!”   I dismissed the idea that God wanted me for his purposes and figured, well I guess I’ll be a famous artist after all.  I was only thinking about what I wanted to do.

The next year I was living at home, finally living out my dream of having a little house, being connected to an art community, and teaching art in a school that my daughter attended, when I heard what God had in store for me.  Sitting in the house, watching the sun shine through the french windows because I had trimmed back the live oak trees, I discovered a deeper spiritual  warmth that was not part of the ordinary light.  I heard, “I have a plan for your life and all will be well.”  Great visions of shows in New York and San Francisco entertained my mind, but that wasn’t part of God’s plan.

The next Sunday in church, as I was preparing to go to my class study, I heard the call:  “I want you to become a minister.”  I actually turned around to see who was talking to me, but everyone was busy with the back-slapping, hand shaking, dinner planning details of church goers lives.  At this point I realized that I was being called to the ministry!  “Oh No!  I’m not good enough, not smart enough, I just got a house, just got an art job, I’m a single parent of a small child, and by the way, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a woman!”  I was telling the One who created me what I knew about myself, as if he didn’t already know that!

Ten years of running followed that day, as I progressively tried to bargain my way out of this call.  When teaching junior high Sunday School wasn’t enough, I began to live outside the church and entered a life that became a living hell in a few years.  After all, if I don’t go to church, I can’t be a minister, and if I don’t live a good life, I can’t be a called person.  But God has a way of using the worst times of our lives as a time of preparation for the better life to come.  During this time both my daughter and I were being stalked by the man who abused her.  She and I had trusted him to take care of us and instead he had robbed her of her innocence.  I could hardly work, we both were at the counseling office in therapy, and we lived in fear. 

Into this pain, the old church that I had quit attending was still sending me their newsletter.  I saw that a favorite pastor was being moved to the little church down the road, and I decided to attend his first Sunday.  The people were so friendly and glad that I was there that I joined the church that very day.  I even joined the choir!  Now I had a support group, but I didn’t feel any better.  I was still depressed and couldn’t shake the mood.  My pastor knew my true problem was spiritual, so he arranged for me to attend a weekend retreat.  There I met all kinds of wonderful Christian women, folks who obviously deserved to be there and to be loved by God, but I didn’t think God could ever love me and care enough to change my life.

We had the opportunity to have communion, worship, pray, and share conversations together.  As I began to hear the stories, I discovered that everyone’s life was much like mine, and I could hear the stories of God working in their lives.  One day we were taking communion by naming the sin that kept us from God as we took the bread.  Then we sat down to wait until all had broken the bread and put the pieces into the basket.  As I waited to return to take the bread with the cup, I began to listen to the pains named by the group—anger, hate, despair, addictions, abuse, bankruptcy, fears, disorders, and every kind of brokenness under the sun.  As I watched the bread pieces pile up in the basket, the person holding it faded away and in her place I saw an image of the risen Christ holding the bread, saying “This is my body, broken for you!”  In that moment I knew that my real pain was not letting God be God!  After all, a long time ago, on a hill far away, before I took any breath or walked any step, Jesus Christ had already loved me enough to die on the cross for me and for my salvation.

I came home a changed person, able to deal with my own past and the chains that had bound me.  Yet, even as a person with chronic depression, I could discover how to live in joy and discover the great things God has done for me.  Now I share those with you, because I am not a special, extraordinary person, but I do know a special, extraordinary God!  As the years passed, I served small churches and larger ones, became an ordained elder in the Arkansas Annual Conference of the United Methodist Church, and discovered that I needed a way to minister to myself as I ministered to others.

The Upper Room of the United Methodist Church has been at the key points of my spiritual journey.  After all, they sponsor the Walk To Emmaus movement, where I learned about the great love God has for his children.  The Upper Room also sponsors the Academy for Spiritual Formation, a learning place for lay and clergy alike to grow deeper in their faith journeys as they form communities for spiritual growth.  This web site is an outgrowth of my spiritual journey, a place where I can share writings, art, and encouragement for the spiritual life. 

Proceeds from the sale of the posters, prints, cards and other items are being donated to the Upper Room for scholarships for others to attend the Academy for Spiritual Formation. 

www.upperroom.org/academy/

www.upperroom.org/emmaus