Those sent to question him were from the Pharisee party. Now they had a question of their own: “If you’re neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet, why do you baptize?” John 1:24,25 the Message
Among the tests required for our denomination to accept us as pastors were psychological testing. Henry says it’s to see if people are crazy enough to want to be in ministry. Aptitude, medical, personality, the standard MMPI (don’t ask what it stands for because it’s long and I can’t spell all of it), a whole string of medical and ‘mental’ testing.
with our babies and mama
with friends in our pool
After these tests we met with some kind of doctor that I can’t exactly recall but not of the medical variety. A psychologists probably, who discussed what the tests revealed.
To Henry he asked why he never continued in higher education. Why did he stop with an AA degree when his IQ clearly indicated his intelligence.
To me he said, you’d be a good housewife.
I was insulted. Offended. I felt put down and under appreciated.
Not because I think a housewife is less than. I had been just that for 14 years. It was a role I chose and relished, the role only I could fill. But he seemed to fail to see the value in that. It was as though the role of household CEO, event planner, educator and nurturer were completely absent.
Still, God called. Us. Me.
The questioners are always there. Have always been.
It’s been twenty-one years since we left a comfortable life. A life serving in our local church, volunteering with the kid’s school, deciding where we wanted to live, going and coming to our time schedule, making our plans. We left a lot of ourselves for a denomination that would tell us where to live and when to move. We knew it would take us from a place we’d planted deep roots and we knew uncertainty and more unknown was ahead. Still, we answered a call because it wasn’t from man but from God. The one who created the universe, the one who loves without limits, the one who had so faithfully provided for us every step of life. This God called us in a new way. A scary way. How could we not answer his call?
So God called a self-employed upholsterer with only an AA degree but a sharp IQ, and God called this stay-at-home mom, a ‘housewife’ who was particularly good at organizing summer vacations, coordinating family-school-church schedules, who volunteered because there was freedom in that, yes, God called us ordinary folk. Like Matthew the tax collector, and Thomas the doubter and the fishermen and the women. God calls us to follow. To follow and teach a Sunday School class. To follow and show love to people you don’t much like. To follow and be a trusted employee. To follow and be known as a man/woman of God.
People say we’re brave and faithful but I’ll tell you the truth. I’m not. Brave is following my way because it’s selfish and only leads to sadness. It doesn’t take much courage to follow a God who knows every part of my being and loves me anyway. My God doesn’t question, he calls. My name. Your name.