Glimmers

This may seem to be a collection of unrelated bits, but they are all connected with this struggle about ministry.  Bear with me and feel free to give any insights you have to any or all of the pieces:

So for the last several weeks, I've been really questioning my call.  Am I called to youth ministry?  Am I called to prayer/alternate worship ministry?  Am I called to ministry within a church?  Am I called to any ministry at all?  It has seemed that there is no hope of ever escaping the soul-crushing job that I am currently working, and I keep being told that if I would just accept that this as life, I would learn to be happy.  I have to admit that if it wasn't such a struggle to get ready, go to work and sit there for 10 hours each day feeling the life and passion slowly drain from me, I would be much happier.  So the questions keep resurfacing... am I called to do some sort of ministry?  Can I be fulfilled/passionate/happy doing anything else?  Has the ministry of which I've been apart over the last 13 years made a difference or have I been wasting my time?

Scott is an immature 20, but is a good kid.  He is the only other person on the night shift with me.  We don't have much in common, and our work stations are at opposite ends of the building, so we don't talk much.  But Scott was faced with dealing with death for the first time this week.  His grandmother had a massive stroke, the family made the decision to pull life support, they watched her die for almost a week, and the funeral was Tuesday.  Scott asked me for advice on how to deal with everything, and all I could tell him was an echo of what Stephen told me a few weeks ago: Feel what you feel, and don't let anyone tell you it's wrong to feel that way.  The other bit of hope I offered him was that it wouldn't always hurt as much as it does right now.  Last night, he told me that he appreciated me not telling him what to feel or how to deal with everything.  He also thanked me for just listening when he returned to work on Wednesday night.  He said he felt better because of what I had done, and when I said I hadn't done anything, he responded "But you are here for me." 

I was having a brief conversation with Shawn about the weather, and I mentioned Andrew (Marin) being stuck in D.C., which led to talking about Andrew's work.  There's something about reaching out to the GLBT community that has been percolating within me for a long time.  That got me thinking about an experience I had in Cincy this fall:  It was early in the morning, and I was headed over to the Sanctuary space to support Lilly's effort at Morning Prayers and then have 2nd breakfast with her.  I step into the elevator with a mom and a young teen boy who was excitedly talking.  Being exhausted already, I made some comment about someone being way too excited for that early in the morning, and the boy looked at me said, "I've been waiting for this weekend for a long time.  My mom promised me a trip to the city if I wouldn't tell my 7th grade class that I'm gay."  He continued rattling on, but I was watching his mom stare at my name tag and slowly pull her son as far away from me as they could get in a small elevator.  I turned my attention back to the boy, Isaac, and engaged him for the remainder of the ride to the lobby. As we exited, I started to wish them a great day, when the mom, Carolyn, put her hand on my arm to stop me.  "Could we talk?" she asked as tears ran down her face.

Carolyn sent Isaac on to breakfast, and she and I spent 10-15 minutes sitting in a quiet corner of the lobby.  She spilled her entire story... how she and her husband couldn't have children, how Isaac had been adopted, why they named him Isaac (after the biblical story of Isaac), how they knew early on that Isaac was different than the other boys, how Isaac proclaimed to them that he was gay in 6th grade, how their church pushed them away because everyone knew Isaac was gay, how her husband had slowly drifted away from them because he was ashamed of Isaac, how she wasn't sure if their marriage was going to survive.  Again, I just listened... mostly because I didn't know what to say or how to respond to a perfect stranger spilling all these personal details.  She then told me a how there had been some guys from the convention (same tags) in the elevator with them the night before.  They had engaged Isaac but physically stepped back from him when Isaac said something that tipped them off to his being gay.  As they exited the elevator, one of the guys said, "You should find a local church to attend.  They can help you fix him."  She told me that was why she was so scared and wanted Isaac away from me in the elevator.  And then she thanked me for listening and told me that it was good to know that there was at least one Christian who didn't hate her because of her son or hate her son.  We prayed, I gave her contact info for me and for Andrew, and she went off for her special day with her son.  Most likely, I will never hear from Carolyn or Isaac again, but that encounter changed me.  It made a difference for me, and hopefully it made a lasting difference for them. 

I was tired and drained but wanting to spend time with an old friend last week.  We were just catching up when she brought up T.A.G. Ministries (prayer/alt. worship/experiential worship).  Immediately I was energized and excited.  She even commented on how passionate I was as I spoke about the possibilities.  The same thing happened later on when Lilly called to get a few ideas for an upcoming retreat.  I was on my way to work and dragging every step of the way, but the ideas started flowing, I was all wound up, and I wished that we had more time to talk and create together. 

I had a phone interview this afternoon with a church in Wilmette, IL.  I was actually dreading it because the website presented the church as a "prosperity gospel" type church.  The pastor confirmed that as we spoke, and he confirmed that I probably am not the person the church is looking for.  That being said, he asked if he could pick my brain anyway.  We talked for almost 45 minutes about being present - to God and to each other, experiential worship, contemplative prayer and prayer practices, building community, not pretending, and being willing to disrupt the status quo if God leads you in another direction.  I probably won't hear from that church again, but the pastor was impressed with my honesty and my passion for not "playing church."  He said that I would be an asset to the church because I wouldn't disciple students to become star atheletes and super students, but I would actually challenge them to become followers of Jesus.  He actually told me that he felt convicted about how he was playing the game in order to keep this nice, wealthy, North Shore church happy, and, in turn, keep his salary coming. 

So, as I'm trying to process all this, I happened to look out the window.  It's been cloudy and gray all day, but in that precise moment, it started to snow those HUGE snowflakes... just slowly drifting down.  Then a small ray of sun burst through the clouds and made all those big snowflakes shimmer - just for a second.  It was the most beautiful thing I've seen in a very long time.  And with it came the tiniest glimmer of hope...