Sometimes I feel like such a fraud; me, I’m going to be a minister. Minister of what, of whom? I sit in awe of my classmates and realize that I can never be as spiritual or deep as they. Why am I so simple, so plain?

The question this week is- what form will my ministry take? Will I speak from a pulpit? Will I hold the hand of a dying child or an elderly gentleman? Will I be in the trenches and minister to drug addicts and ex-cons? Will I run a beautiful retreat center where the lovely spiritual people can meet? I think not. But, what it will be I have no idea.

The other question is, what called me to service? I don’t have a clue. It sounds so silly to say that Judy made me do it. She didn’t make me do it or anything else. Yes, she show me the possibility, but I’m the one that took the plunge without a thought that the diving board would end.

So, here I am at the end of the board, my toes are hanging off, the crowds are waiting far below all poise to cheer or groan and I am frozen at the edge; too late to go back and too scared to jump. Help me, Lord, can you give me a shove that will propel me out and off this stupid board? Let me hear you voice, dear God. Give me a sign how my ministry will look, perhaps if I had an inkling of the direction, I could launch off this precarious pad.

My whole life I’ve never had a direction, is it enough just to send out blessings on the earth?

“Bless you, my child, I am a minister and I have the ear of God. Bless you. Bless you.”

Bullshit.

Ministry is about rolling up your sleeves and jumping in, hold a hand, find someone a new apartment, make a phone call; whatever it takes. Am I the kind of person that can do that? Who then will me my support?

Dear Lord, help me to surrender enough to let go of my doubts. Guide, Lord. I heard the call, I don’t know how. I heard the call, now light a little light in front of me to show the way. Please?