confidence

finding affirmation in the call

| Kimberly Smith

Prior to a conversation with my Senior Pastor in 2003, I had never even considered paid vocational ministry. He asked for a meeting and let me know that his sense of God’s plans for the healing, growth and future health of the church included an emphasis on Generational ministry and he thought there was a role for me to play. Despite growing up in church, serving in ministry since I was old enough to be trusted to look after babies and toddlers in the creche (which I think was aged 8!), directing and leading on holiday youth camps, regularly leading kids’ talks and worship in church, and rarely missing a Sunday service; until that moment, it had never even crossed my mind to consider doing any of that as a job!

Perhaps it was because I’d never known a female pastor before. Maybe it was influenced by the fact that most of my church contexts had not always had a paid Senior pastor let alone any other staff. In light of where my life path has taken me since, it seems almost comical to reflect on now, but it just had never been on my radar.

And so, in the office of my Senior Pastor I responded with surprise and nervous laughter at the suggestion. Not long after this moment, I was reading the story of Moses as recorded in Exodus 3 and found a completely relatable narrative.

God speaks to Moses through a burning bush (that bit is less relatable – but bear with me). He has heard the cry of the Israelites, sees their suffering and misery under slavery in Egypt, and He has a plan to rescue them that appears to be largely centred on Moses. It seems Moses responded with surprise and nervous laughter also! He is immediately gripped with self-doubt and fear. “Who am I that I should go?” “…what will I say to them?” “What if they don’t believe me or listen to me…?”

I didn’t mean to be quoting directly from scripture in that meeting in my Senior Pastor’s office but it turns out I was doing a terrific Moses impersonation! Who me? But what do I know? What if I can’t? He also suggested that I would be preaching and at that point I actually laughed out loud.

Here’s the thing, though. I’ve read further in the story and I know that Moses took his questioning and hesitance just a little bit too far. In fact, he said “Please pick someone else!” and the Bible says the Lord’s anger burned against Moses and well, there were consequences. It’s a life motto of mine to always make new mistakes (rather than repeat one that’s already been done) so I decided to arrest my fear-inspired protestations and just say yes!

Initially, that was just a yes to further conversations. It was yes to being open to what God might be saying and to trusting the process of discernment with church leadership, trusted friends and in my own heart. There were some other affirming experiences and words along that journey including the prophetic application of this scripture – Isaiah 54 – The Tent. There was initially resistance from some in the congregation and there were a few spicy conversations had both with me and about me (She’s divorced! She’s a she! etc) but a few months later the church affirmed my appointment to staff as the part time Children’s & Youth Coordinator.

Over 14.5 years of being on staff there I would go on to add theological study to my education qualifications, increase my hours to eventually be full time, lead and develop teams in a fast growing church and expanding ministries, and explore gifting, skills and calling in an environment of great opportunity and support. When I finished my time there I was an Associate Pastor and subsequently moved into a denominational state role.

Ministry life is a wild ride. Like any job there are days that feel more like work than others. As we say in the business, there’s a lot that’s not included on the brochure when it comes to pastoral ministry. There’s a lot that they don’t even include in the fine print because you might not sign on if you knew (assuming we’d read the fine print anyway, who does that? 😉 ). But my anchor through all the challenging times and just as significantly in the fruitful and elating times, has been my sense of call.

I am here at God’s invitation and wholly reliant on Him to do in, for and through me whatever best advances His Kingdom and brings Him glory. It’s my privilege to partner with Him in this way.

The first time I preached a sermon to our morning congregation, a family stood up in protest (of a woman preaching) and made an aggressive exit from the room (and subsequently the church). In that moment, shaken and distracted, it was my confidence in God’s call that recalibrated me. In the conversations that followed (and on numerous occasions across my ministry life subsequently), under the weight of accusation of rebellion and sinfulness, in being challenged as to my knowledge of or obedience to scripture, in the confrontation of others’ deeply held convictions and in the wrestle of my own understanding and the reality of a future reckoning; it was the call that was my true north. Not a call to that specific church or role, but to a broader understanding of how He had equipped me and what He had deposited in my heart to burn as conviction and passion for my part in His mission.

In times of deep personal disappointment (there is nothing quite like ministry and its intense ‘peopleness’ to reveal some of the less than desirable aspects of ones character), loss, failure, falling short of my own and others’ expectations, or when feeling the profound overwhelm of the never-ending task of pastoral ministry and mission – it’s the belief that God has led me here, will use me here, will empower me here, and will comfort me here that sustains me. There is no other place to look that has any security or holds any more clear truth.

When someone makes a step toward Jesus, when a person preaches their first sermon or serves in kids ministry for the first time, when God reveals wisdom for untangling complex issues in a pastoral meeting, when someone says “I think that sermon was just for me”, when you’re present for breakthrough in prayer, when (in my case) I’m facilitating a workshop or mentoring a leader or calling out gifting, when you’re front row for the activity of God – these are the moments the call is clarified and affirmed. These moments call for my favourite hashtags – #dowhatyoulovelovewhatyoudo #canyoubelievewegettodothis You know it if you’ve felt it. The profound sense of being exactly where you should be, doing and being those things you were called to do and be.

There have been many moments in the past 20 years were I’ve begun to reprise my role as Moses. When new frontiers brought new fears. When open doors led to places seemingly beyond my capacity. When situations arose that were outside of my experience and expertise. When hurts were suffered. What will I say? What if they don’t believe me? What if I fail? What if I’m rejected? What if it’s too hard? God answers, “I will be with you!” “It is I who sent you!” “I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”

That’s when I set down my Moses script and remember my yes. There is confidence in the call.

writing again

| Kimberly Smith

This year I will be writing again.

That’s a statement of commitment, of aspiration, of obedience and stewardship … but also one of hopefulness tinged with fear.

I lost my mojo in 2017. I’m not sure how to explain why (in just a few sentences) but even now, as I’m writing and re-writing and re-starting and starting over again and feeling verbally constipated and questioning every thought that comes to my mind – I’m fighting the oppression, doubt and intimidation – the voice of criticism and questioning – that comprehensively beat me (specifically in relation to my writing) in 2018.

I hate how derailed I’ve been. I hate how much power I’ve given to a voice that’s not speaking the truth and life of God. 

But this year I will be writing again.

“Your message is for ministry.”

Running parallel to the paralysis that carried over from the end of 2017, last year was the most freeing, affirming and empowering time I’ve ever known – an odd juxtaposition.

I feel like God has done a Mufasa on me – you know, the scene from the Lion King where he takes Simba to the top of Pride Rock and says “Look Simba, everything the light touches is our kingdom” (God often teaches me in Disney metaphors and quotes – don’t judge me – He knows my heart language.)  God has lifted my chin to cause me to look up and around and see so much possibility and opportunity, and then let me loose in it! I feel like I’m in the sweetest ministry spot; where everything that I’ve been privileged to experience and learn, is combining with all of my gifts, skills and passions, and I’m more confident than ever in my shape, call and capacity. By confident I mean, I am completely aware that anything of wisdom or value I have to offer comes from God and His resource for those things is inexhaustible – so, let’s go!!

Years ago, when I was feeling the final prompts to write the book, I was wrestling writing-doubts and commented to a friend, “Perhaps the message of this book is just for me.” She fired back, “No, when God gives you a message, it’s for ministry.” Boom!

So, this year I’m writing again. Because He keeps giving me messages, so I’ll keep handing them over for ministry.

 

why people at church don’t talk to you

| Kimberly Smith


A friend and I have been known to run an experiment. When attending a different church, she leaves me alone in the foyer (to go to the bathroom or something) and we see if anyone will talk to me. It’s damaging to my pride, self-esteem and sense of confidence in my personal hygiene to report that – more often than not – when she returns, I’m standing where she left me feeling forlorn and having had no interactions with others.

As someone who leads in a church and desires that our environments be welcoming and inclusive for all – I run this experiment not just as a test of the church I’m visiting but to remember for myself what it feels like. To experience that awkwardness of trying to posture myself to look open to conversations or interactions without making a fool of myself. And as bad as it feels, I remember that my experiment is only partly accurate because I’m a visitor. Others coming into churches come because they are looking to find Jesus! Some come because they are desperately seeking a place of connection and belonging – of home. While I’m only there for one night. So much more is at stake for them.

Whilst I have received feedback from people who have felt a little ignored or adrift in our church, it’s more likely that those who feel this most poignantly haven’t stayed around to tell anyone – they’ve just left. You may relate to this experience in your own church environment. You look around and others are deeply engrossed in conversations and excited interactions and you wonder why you’re not included.

 

The reason people at church might not talk to you is because they are exactly like you!

They are uncomfortable talking to strangers. As an outgoing, verbal, extrovert I am uncomfortable talking to strangers! Most people are! People don’t talk to you because, just like you, they are unsettled about talking to people they don’t know. How awkward will this be? What if we have nothing in common? What if I inadvertently offend or upset them with what I say? What if they don’t want to talk to me!? EVERYONE is processing these same questions.

They are comforted by their own friends. There’s safety and security in the knowledge of their connection to their group of friends. And in fact, they may well be worried that if they don’t speak to these people no one else will speak to them and so they don’t leave the circle for fear of feeling that isolation. We are all creatures of comfort and security. Stepping away from the known and into the unknown requires a bravery that we don’t always manage to summon.

Someone once said to me “I never realised how cliquey people were until all my friends were away one week and no one spoke to me.” She didn’t even realise the irony of what she was saying. She only noticed that everyone else stuck to their friends when the friends that she stuck to weren’t around.

They wrongly assess their social position. Frequently, the socially insecure assume that everyone else is socially confident. The quiet and shy ones assume that the noisy ones are more bold and self-assured (when, often, it is just the same feelings manifesting in different coping strategies). Those unfamiliar in an environment assume that everyone else is quite familiar. Those who are more connected don’t trust their social connections enough to leave them temporarily to reach out to others.

Ultimately, the human condition is such, that we are all looking for a degree of connectedness and are all at the mercy of one another to find that place of belonging and welcome. New. Old. Loud. Quiet. No one is exempt from contributing to the social dynamic of a community.

*** A common cry. ***

“What if I go up to someone and say – Are you new here? – and they say – No, I’ve been coming for 3 years.”

OR what if you start your conversation a different way!?! (Genius, I know!)

“How are you today?” (Revolutionary, but effective.) “Are those your kids? Have you had a busy week? What’s ahead for you this week? How will you be spending your afternoon? Have you done the winter pruning of your fruit trees yet?” (Read – there are lots of other ways to start a question that don’t need you to guess how long they’ve attended your church!)

Or just a simple, “I don’t think I’ve met you before, I’m Kim!” might be enough.

The reason people in MY church don’t talk to you is because people like ME (and you) need to get better at it. We can do this!