Moving: a word that strikes fear into the hearts of many an established home dweller. The idea of sorting, pitching, keeping, cleaning, wrapping and taping one's worldly belongings into cardboard boxes and entrusting them to strangers, is enough to make even the most decisive soul tremble with indecision and fear. That aside, there are also the tasks of mail to be forwarded, addresses to be changed, new people to meet, established relationships to bid adieu and new terrain to be discovered. It is almost too much.
What I have just described is the life of one called to pastoral ministry within the itinerant system known as the United Methodist Church. At the decision of the Bishop, pastors and their families pack up and move to a new assigned place of service. After years of loving, nurturing, chastising, empowering, cheering and equipping the women, children and men of our present congregational ministries we bid our good byes and pass the responsibilities of the congregation's spiritual care into the hands of the new incoming pastor. Then we take our boxes and leave only to begin the process all over again at the next appointment.
Many people ask why anyone would want to live such a life? What would entice us into this life of upheaval and uncertainty? The answer is simple, call. It is God's calling us to ministry that keeps us going. It is our call to service and vocation that fills our hearts with a passion for souls, even on the days in which we would rather be anywhere else doing anything else. It is call that keeps us faithful when, for the life of us, we cannot remember why we are even doing this.
On Saturday evening June 12, I knelt before the whole of the church in my Conference and was affirmed, once again, in my call to ministry. Just moments before I took the vows that those seeking provisional membership have taken before me, to live a life of sacrifice and service while continuing to grow more fully into my call to ministry. Am I up to the task? Following Christ, I am.
Now back to the packing.
