|
VOW
|
God's Hand at Work:
I grew up in what was then a small town called Alhambra, California. My dad had his own produce company and my mom stayed busy as the mother to 5 active children. Because there is only 7 years difference between me (the oldest of the five) and my youngest sister, we knew all the families in the area. My mom decided we should attend St. James Presbyterian Church (now San Gabriel Presbyterian Church) when I was quite young. As a child (and into my youth) I was involved with Sunday School (first as a student and then as a teacher), the youth program, the choir and the bell choir. As an adult I continued to help out here and there, some years playing a more active role in the church than others. In the mid 1980s I received a phone call asking if I would consider being an elder. "No," I replied. "Would you consider being a Deacon?" I was asked. "I'll think about it," I said. I hung up the phone and said to my mom who had been a Deacon off and on for years, "What's a Deacon?" Mom said the best description she had ever heard came from my brother Don who described the Deacons as "the heart of the church" because the Deacons were in charge of preparing meals for the sick, visiting (as well as sending out cards and letters to) the sick and the housebound, keeping up with the joys and concerns of the members in their parish, etc. I liked this idea and became Chairperson of the Board of Deacons for the next three years. I never regretted it. For the first time in my 30 years at the church I knew every single person in the church, how they were doing, and how I and the church family could be of help in times of need. In the early 1990s I moved to Diamond Bar. At first I continued
to attend church in San Gabriel and life went on pretty much the way it
had been before I moved. However, one summer afternoon I had an encounter
with God that I will never forget. My pride, my greatest sin, had
created a large, deep, dark chasm between me and my Father. In prayer
I saw it and I felt it. "Father, I'm so sorry," I cried out.
"Please forgive me." I knew I could not cross that chasm unless He provided
the bridge. I had (and have) never felt so alone. I fell to my knees
sobbing and begging Him to forgive me and to build a bridge over the chasm
that separated us. The Lord heard my cry and a light shone down on
me, one that bridged the chasm of darkness. The feeling of being
alone
The next Sunday I started to attend Northminster Presbyterian Church in Diamond Bar and soon became involved with various activities within the church including lay liturgy, the youth program, Of One Accord (women's choir), M & Ms (women's Bible study group), the Women's Retreat Committee (1996 Worship Leader, 1997 Program Leader), the Personnel Committee (liaison for the church secretary), and the Board of Presbyterian Women of Northminster Presbyterian Church (1996 Publicity Chairperson, 1996 Crafts Chairperson). In 1996, at the close of the Women's Retreat, I went up to the speaker Rev. Nancy Moore to tell her how much I had enjoyed her teachings. To my surprise it was she who complimented me. After shaking my hand she took her hand and moved it up and down my arm as she said to the women around us, "Don't you just want to touch her? Can't you feel the anointing?" The other women nodded their heads but I'm sure they were just as surprised as I to hear this comment. Years later when God called me to be ordained I remembered what Rev. Moore had said about feeling "the anointing." She had sensed God's call on my life even then. I went to Israel in 1998 and when I returned home I was, for the first time in my life, really excited about scripture but it never entered my mind that the place I would really learn about scripture was at seminary. I was "having coffee" with my former pastor's wife when the idea first arose and when, one week later, I was having dinner with a soon to be Fuller seminary student I began to further explore the idea of taking a few classes. To make a long story short, before the end of the summer I was no longer employed and was, instead, enrolled as a full-time student at Fuller Theological Seminary (FTS). I entered FTS as an "unclassified" student. While I had sensed God's leading to attend seminary, I hadn't yet sensed a call. During orientation the Lord placed in me a desire to learn about spiritual direction so I signed up for a class in Desert Spirituality. My prayer life grew by leaps and bounds as I studied the prayer-filled lives of the desert mothers and fathers. A few months later I applied for the M.Div. Program in Spiritual Direction. In my second year of seminary, as I meditated in the prayer garden, I clearly understood God's leading for me to begin the process of ordination. I shared my sense of call with my family, former pastors, past and current "church family" members, classmates, and friends and asked them to pray about it with me. I was encouraged by every single one of them to move ahead with the process. A few weeks before the start of my third and final year of seminary I discovered I needed to complete an internship before I graduated. Just as God had pushed me into seminary, God pushed me into an internship. Although the pastors at Westminster Presbyterian Church (WPC) had posted a job opening for a student intern in April, at the beginning of September the position had still not been filled. I met with pastors Twining and Martha Campbell on a Friday afternoon and the CE committee the following Monday evening. By Tuesday we were all in agreement that it was God's Will that I should intern at that church. I did my Clinical Pastoral Education at Arcadia Methodist Hospital (AMH)..
There I learned how to "be" with patients who are sick, lonely, and sometimes
dying. One day I was called to the room of a man who said to me,
"You know how some people know when they first met God . . . some people
meet Him at church, some at camp, you know . . .” I nodded. "I'm
not like that," he continued. "I've always known God . . . in here"
(he pointed to his chest). "But sometime, I'm not sure when, I lost
that feeling." "What feeling?" I asked. "That feeling that
God is with me . . . in me. He's not here," he said pointing to his
chest as a tear ran down his cheek, "anymore." I found myself telling
My time at FTS, WPS, and AMH was a time of stretching and growing for me.. Where once I hadn't even considered being a pastor, now I was excited at the prospect. Among other things, during my "training" years I discovered the joys of "birthing" a sermon and leading a worship service, of discipling adults (as well as the youth), of praying for those in need, encouraging the downtrodden, and of simply "being there" for those who are ill . . . Most of all, I found great joy in helping people come to know Christ and watching the transformation which occurs in their life as they walk with Him. It was in my third year of seminary that God showed me He was calling me to grow small churches in rural America but I had no idea that just as God pushed me into seminary and into an internship, He would also push me to shepherd not one but two churches. The journey to my current call began with an e-mail from Shirley McDade of Churchwide Personnel Services (CPS) informing me of an event which was to take place at General Assembly (GA) called Face to Face. I'd never heard of it so I called my liaison to the Committee for Preparation on Ministry to ask him what he thought. His response . . . "I've never known anyone who attended the Face to Face Event who didn't get a Call out of it unless he/she turned it down." So I went. After walking what seemed likes miles of corridor at the Denver Convention Center, I came to the room designated for the Face to Face Event. On one side of the room were shelves of notebooks containing the Personal Information Forms (PIF) of Candidates in search of a Call. On the other side of the room were shelves of notebooks containing the Church Information Forms (CIF) of churches in search of a pastor, associate pastor, youth pastor, etc. There were also Executive Presbyter (EP) notebooks containing the CIFs of those churches which did not have the funds to send someone to GA. Members of the CPS staff constantly circulated around the room ready to answer any questions one might have. I found them to be very helpful and encouraging. I spent a major portion of my time at GA in the Face to Face room reading notebooks or in nearby rooms interviewing. Throughout the five days I was at GA I didn't interview with one Pastor Nominating Committee (PNC). Instead I interviewed with many EPs representing small churches in their areas. Just as it took God a long time to convince me to get ordained, it took God a long time to convince me that I really am called to grow small churches in rural America. I remember telling people in my third year of seminary that I had the feeling God was calling me to small town USA but it didn't actually hit home until I was at GA. Then my sense of call to grow small churches took off! By the end of my time there I was quite excited about the prospect! On the last day I was at GA, having finally accepted the fact that God was calling me to grow small churches in rural America, I decided to attend the Rural Ministry Coffee Hour. I took a seat at a table at which sat an elderly gentleman. We spoke very few words but enough so that he came to know I was seeking a call in a small church in rural America. After the program he said to me, "Karen . . . don't leave before I introduce you to that gentleman over there. He's the Executive Presbyter for Central Nebraska." The EP (Bob Houser) and I talked for a short while and then agreed to meet again later that afternoon. After hearing about my sense of call he told me about a yoked church which he thought would be a good fit for me. I e-mailed them (and many other churches) my PIF on Friday, May 30th. On Tuesday, June 3rd a member of the PNC from this yoked church contacted me to tell me they had reviewed my PIF on Monday evening and they wanted to do a telephone interview with me the following Monday (6/9). Per their request, I sent them a video and an audio tape of my preaching and met with them by telephone on Monday at 6 p.m. At 11 p.m. that evening I found an e-mail from the PNC telling me they had decided to move on to the next step by having their Presbytery make the necessary contacts with my Presbytery. Four weeks later I was on my way to Nebraska. I met with the Committee on Ministry on July 12th and on the 13th preached
in a neutral pulpit in Axtell. Everything went well. One of
the members of the church in Axtell told me it was as if they had known
me all their lives. Before I could respond a second person answered,
"It's because the Spirit of Christ is so strong in her we feel it."
Clearly God's hand was on me. Three weeks later I flew out
to lead the congregations at Buffalo Grove Presbyterian Church and First
Presbyterian Church, Cozad, in worship. By 12:30 p.m. Sunday, August
3rd (just 9½ weeks after meeting the EP at GA), I had received a
Call. As if being called nearly unanimously by the churches wasn't
Becoming a pastor was never my idea. It was God's. He is
the potter . .. I am the clay. When His churches were ready
for me, His hand moved in a clear and mighty way to show me this is where
I belong. Very simply, I am a Presbyterian pastor because I was called
by God to shepherd His flock in accordance with His leading, time, and
will. The journey continues . . .
|