One of the hardest things for me over the last few years has been trying not to dwell on the future. There’s been some pretty awesome and yet still altogether terrifying prophecies spoken over our family and this potential ministry that lies ahead of us. Some wonderful people have shared insight and valuable lessons. We’ve made amazing contacts that I suspect will prove invaluable at a later date.
And for all the revealing that has been done so far, there are still some pretty big gaping holes in the image.
“Where you feel the most passionate, that is often where your ministry will be.” She told me this when I was talking about my days as a youth leader and Sunday School teacher. My pastor shared numerous tips and ideas with us before she left to go home to Africa last year. But this one in particular stuck with me.
I was reminded of it again on a Sunday not too long ago while we were visiting my in-laws and attending their church. It’s not something that is far from my mind, really, so it didn’t take much to bring it to the forefront. Sitting next to Tim, I thought about it and decided to jot down a few ideas.
I have discovered that I can get fairly passionate about women and how they are treated (and how we treat each other), as well as youth and children. I wrote it down. I nudged Tim and showed him what I had done so he wrote down that his passions are around men’s issues and the older generations. At first I was flabbergasted. How could we make this work if our passions are the opposite, or at the very least not the same?
Then it came to me. We both see the value of each other’s passions and at no point are we in any kind of disagreement about their importance. So it’s not too big of a stretch to say that our ministry will centre around community – community where each person and their unique gifts and experiences are cherished for who and what they are at face-value, where each person has equal rights and shared responsibilities to ensure each other’s rights. And that’s about as far as I have got so far.
It’s such a tiny little step, really, to realize this. It’s not a blinding light on the road to Damascus, and probably not even the writing on the wall, when it comes to life-altering experiences. But it has helped me feel a little bit more secure. It’s a small piece of the puzzle that’s settled into its spot.
It really does feel like a jigsaw puzzle; the pieces are on the table, but the picture on the box is missing or blacked out. Almost like a guessing game, we pick up a piece every now and then to see if it fits, sometimes only to discover it’s not part of this puzzle at all. The frustration builds.
But one thing is clear to me:
Where there is no vision, the people perish.
And so we’ll take this little piece, this seed and plant it and nourish it. In a few years, we’ll see what this faith moves.