God has been calling people to serve him for a very long time. God called Moses from a burning bush, an epic encounter on an ordinary day. God called Isaiah from a vision of heaven, and Isaiah answered, “Send me, Lord!” God called Mary through an angel during an uncertain time. God has also called me and you. And as for me, this is my story.
Pastor’s kid
Growing up in a small, rural Tennessee town, God was the center of my world. I can’t remember a time I didn’t know God. But I can remember a time I didn’t like God.
Being a pastor’s kid was hard work. It required countless extra hours at the church, pristine behavior, and high biblical literacy. After all, the church was watching, and I needed to be at my best. Now, whether this was actually true or not is hard to say. But it was exactly how I felt. All the pressures of being part of a pastor’s family made God a little trickier to like.
Despite my mixed feelings toward God and the church, I’ve never questioned whether I loved God. I began my faith journey as a little 8-year-old girl.
Looking out from the baptistry one Sunday morning with butterflies in my stomach, I saw a church full of people who’d been praying for that moment. I knew they loved me dearly. Looking back at me, they saw a little girl with a mustard seed of childlike faith.
As I grew in the following years, so did my desire to serve God. Sunday School, church, and youth group weren’t enough. By the time I reached high school, my desire to serve was nearly insatiable. I wanted more. I served at our church’s food bank. Still, I wanted more. I went on mission trips. Still, I wanted more. I served in children’s ministry weekly. Still, I wanted more.
Finally, while on a youth winter retreat in the Smokey Mountains, I understood. I didn’t just want to serve with my free time. God was calling me to serve with my life. God was calling me to ministry. It was my burning bush moment. It was my time to stand up and say, “Send me, Lord!”
Pastor’s wife?
But in a town where being Baptist meant being Southern Baptist, I had no framework for what this could mean. The best I could figure, it could only mean being a pastor’s wife or a missionary.
I stood up in front of my church, once again with that childlike faith, and declared my calling for missions. The church rejoiced. Looking at them from the altar, I knew I was dearly loved.
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I left for college a few years later to attend Carson-Newman University, with the intent to get a degree that could help me on the mission field. But when I stepped into my Intro to New Testament class, everything changed. My desire to learn about the Bible became insatiable.
With every test and quiz I received back, my professor wrote in the top right corner, “You should be a religion major.”
I ignored the first several notes. My track had been set, and my calling confirmed. After all, how could a religion degree like this help a girl like me? But my professor was as consistent as my insatiable desire to do more and learn more about God. So, I scheduled an appointment to meet with him. It turned out to be the first of many over the course of the next two years.
God was doing a confusing, good work in me. Stepping out on a giant leap of faith, I scheduled one last appointment with my professor. He didn’t know it yet, but I wanted to change my major.
After I expressed my reason for calling a meeting, he reached into his desk, pulled out a change-of-major form that was signed and dated that day. “Call me a prophet,” he said. “I knew that’s why you were coming.”
Signing that paper felt like another burning bush moment, a written “Send me, Lord!”
Pastor
The remainder of my time at Carson-Newman opened my eyes to endless possibilities of God’s calling for me. Sure, God could be calling me to be a pastor’s wife or a missionary, but I now understood there were infinite more callings added to the list of possibilities.
To explore more of these possibilities, I moved to Texas to attend Truett Theological Seminary at Baylor University. While at Truett, I began working at First Baptist Church in Waco. It was at this church that I really began to explore.
I preached my first sermon, organized a youth sports league, baptized many new believers, gave countless children’s sermons, administered the Lord’s Super, planned church picnics, and so much more. The list of possibilities for my calling is long, and I suppose I will never finish exploring what it means to be called by God.
Moses responded with a long list of questions, concerns, and anxieties, but his answer was, “Yes.” Isaiah responded with eyes wide-open to the holiness of God, and his answer was, “Yes.” Mary responded to God’s message with a song, and her answer was, “Yes.” She joined the voices of Hannah and the psalmists who had sung those same ancient words of Mary’s famous song found in Luke 1.
As for me, I’m joining the female chorus to sing: “Lord, there is no one like you. You fill the hungry with good things. Holy is your name.”
My answer is, “Yes.”
What about you?
Katelyn Morris is the associate pastor for children and activities at First Baptist Church in Waco. The views expressed in this opinion article are those of the author.
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