I was 16 or 17, in my small United Methodist congregation in McLean, Virginia. We were singing a hymn, "Here I Am, Lord", and I felt this tug on my heart. I didn't know what to do about it, or what it meant. So, I pretty much ignored it.
A few years later, in college, the tug grew stronger, and the call became clearer. God was calling me to be a pastor: to go to seminary, to enter full-time ministry, to be ordained. I tried my hardest to ignore the call, to pretend that it meant something else.
I wasn't good enough, or holy enough, or smart enough, to be a pastor. There were many other ways that I could serve God, and I tried exploring those avenues. But still, I double-majored in Religion and French. I joined, and eventually became the president of, the campus group for those exploring church vocations. I looked into seminaries. At the same time, I considered going to graduate school for French or becoming the owner of my own Chick-Fil-A store. The call kept growing stronger, and I kept running.
I answered God's call to ordained ministry in a parking lot, of all places.
It was actually the parking lot of Wesley Theological Seminary in DC. I was a senior in college and I had no peace about my future. I was tired of running, and I basically said, "fine, God. Have it your way. I'll go into ministry if it will finally give me peace."
And it did give me peace...until I started dragging my feet about applying to seminary and beginning the candidacy process.
That pattern pretty much describes my response to God's call on my life...
Reluctance. Self-doubt.
Acceptance. Peace. Forward movement.
Reluctance. Self-doubt.
Rinse and repeat.
I fought God tooth and nail every step of the way.
Through seminary.
Through the United Methodist candidacy process.
After my first appointment ended with me crashing and burning, I used that as an excuse to say that clearly, I was not cut out for this pastor gig. Look God, I tried, but...clearly this isn't going to work.
I was in church when I sensed God calling me back into full-time ministry. It was not a still, small voice; it was a divine two-by-four.
I was 34, married with two young children, and half-heartedly worshipping in the mid-size United Methodist congregation my family was attending in Chesapeake, Virginia. I was a stay-at-home mom, working occasionally as a chaplain. I was miserable. I was thinking about turning in my ministerial credentials.
No, I'm not being dramatic; it crossed my mind on a weekly basis.
Overnight, my pastor began preaching sermons that made me cry. In a good way. I realized what God was calling me to do; to go back to the pulpit, back into full-time ministry.
I answered God's call the second time in my bedroom.
Eighteen months later, I began my second appointment, to a two-point charge on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. There were certainly challenges and days where I spent the majority of my time curled up in an armchair, crying out to God, saying, "I can't do this. Help me." However, those fervent prayers were answered time and time again, and over the course of two years, God (working through my congregation, clergy colleagues, a pretty awesome DS, and my spouse), showed me who I was as a pastor, and I began to claim that identity.
I applied for ordination in 2014, but allowed those fears and self-doubts to creep into my materials and my interviews, so I was "continued", and told to try again next year.
In the spring of 2014, God called me to serve as the Associate Pastor at a mid-size church in Virginia Beach. As heartbreaking as it was, we left the Shore and moved back to Chesapeake.
I re-applied for ordination. The provisional process is limited to eight years; this was my eighth year. I was either going to get ordained in 2015 or never.
I prayed, I wrote the papers, I cried out to God, I wrote some more, I prayed some more.
Others prayed, too. Many, many others. For that, I am supremely grateful.
I went on several "mock interviews" to prepare myself and to steel my nerves.
In late January, I went before the Theology and Practice of Ministry Committees of the Board of Ordained Ministry.
I was like Gideon, laying out the fleece.
The call came at 8:02 pm on Wednesday, January 28, 2015. I was driving, so told my Team Leader to wait a minute, as I pulled over into a parking lot to answer.
To be specific, it was the parking lot of Bayside High School in Virginia Beach, Virginia.
Overnight, my pastor began preaching sermons that made me cry. In a good way. I realized what God was calling me to do; to go back to the pulpit, back into full-time ministry.
I answered God's call the second time in my bedroom.
Eighteen months later, I began my second appointment, to a two-point charge on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. There were certainly challenges and days where I spent the majority of my time curled up in an armchair, crying out to God, saying, "I can't do this. Help me." However, those fervent prayers were answered time and time again, and over the course of two years, God (working through my congregation, clergy colleagues, a pretty awesome DS, and my spouse), showed me who I was as a pastor, and I began to claim that identity.
I applied for ordination in 2014, but allowed those fears and self-doubts to creep into my materials and my interviews, so I was "continued", and told to try again next year.
In the spring of 2014, God called me to serve as the Associate Pastor at a mid-size church in Virginia Beach. As heartbreaking as it was, we left the Shore and moved back to Chesapeake.
I re-applied for ordination. The provisional process is limited to eight years; this was my eighth year. I was either going to get ordained in 2015 or never.
I prayed, I wrote the papers, I cried out to God, I wrote some more, I prayed some more.
Others prayed, too. Many, many others. For that, I am supremely grateful.
I went on several "mock interviews" to prepare myself and to steel my nerves.
In late January, I went before the Theology and Practice of Ministry Committees of the Board of Ordained Ministry.
I was like Gideon, laying out the fleece.
The call came at 8:02 pm on Wednesday, January 28, 2015. I was driving, so told my Team Leader to wait a minute, as I pulled over into a parking lot to answer.
To be specific, it was the parking lot of Bayside High School in Virginia Beach, Virginia.
I steeled myself, and waited to hear the news.
"Patti, it is with great pleasure...actually, it is with great JOY that I share with you that the Board of Ordained Ministry has approved you for full membership and ordination as an elder."
21 years since I first heard the call.
15 years since I answered the call.
12 years since I was certified as a candidate for ordained ministry.
10 years since I graduated from seminary.
Nine years since first entering full-time ministry.
Eight years since I was commissioned as a provisional elder.
Three years since my return to pastoral ministry.
What a long, strange, trip it's been.
On June 20, the Bishop (who, as my DS in 2006, appointed me to my first church) will lay hands on me and ordain me. He will pray for the Holy Spirit to come and anoint me for the life and work of an elder in Christ's holy church. I will place my hand on the Bible my parents gave me when I was 8 (you get to choose which Bible you use), and will "take thou authority". Assisting him will be the previous bishop, who commissioned me back in 2007. Standing with me will be my husband and two dear clergy colleagues. Standing in prayer in the Roanoke Civic Center (aka Berglund Center) during my ordination will be many, many others...clergy and laity, family and friends. A cloud of witnesses.
My heart is overflowing with gratitude to the God who loved me enough to keep wooing me back, and who brings light out of darkness and joy out of despair. My heart is also overflowing with gratitude to all those who have been Christ to me, who never stopped believing in me, and who saw in me what I couldn't see in myself.
I am being ordained. Thanks be to God.
The journey is far from over. I will always be learning to rely on God rather than myself, to face my fears instead of running from them, to listen to God's voice above that of the world. I will always be growing, being transformed into who God is calling me to be, as a follower of Jesus and as a pastor.
With my ordination comes a commitment to serve Christ as an elder in the United Methodist Church until I retire (in 30 or so years) and until the day I die (because you never really "retire" from ministry).
Here's to a lifetime of being part of this odd and wondrous calling!
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