Word’s gotten around at church about my application to seminary.
Last week two people mentioned it, then this week four did. I imagine the senior pastor brought it up at the last board meeting, in order to discuss what they would do if I left – whether to look for someone within the church, or to hire outside the congregation. Those that mentioned it to me were excited and positive, but each time someone brought it up, my heart sank. And I’ve had to stop and ask myself why my reaction was what it was.
I’m not trying to keep it a secret. I told the pastor and the ministry committee last fall it could be a possibility. But I really didn’t want anyone to know – and I am remembering now as I type that I did the same thing when I picked up the guitar. I told my dad and four months later I stood in front of the congregation to lead worship with it and everyone was surprised. And I know exactly why I kept the guitar a secret – just like I’m certain of why I didn’t want anyone but the two people I need recommendations from to know about my choice to apply to seminary.
It’s easier to go through failure alone.
The last two weeks I’ve made everyone decision with the thought of leaving Nebraska, while it’s quickly chased by the reminder that I may not get accepted.
The last seven years I’ve spent in ministry were nothing but a roller coaster. I’ve not had one break from doing what I do and that realization’s taken a toll on me. When I first told my pastor about the possibility of attending seminary, he gave me a book called The Leadership Baton and he asked me to think about who could take my place. So I’ve had months to think about it, and I’ve tested some potential people and this much I know: ministry is hard. It’s not for everyone, but there are few things more rewarding.
Failing to get into seminary is a possibility, and I’m trying to brace myself for it. It took several years for me to work up the courage to take this step and I’m scared to death if I get to take the next one. But I don’t know what I’ll do next if I fail.