Category Archives: calling

Gleanings from a Year in the Classroom

Sometimes you need an extra week.

Sometimes two weeks is not enough for you to take hold of a new thing or for a new thing to take hold of you.

Sometimes…

New things need extra doses of grace and understanding … and time.

Let me explain.

As my children were growing up, they encountered many seasons of new things, none more so than when they took their first jobs at age sixteen (yes, all of them) and when they went to college. Those occasions were often fraught with worry and questions about making these transitions. My advice to them?

“Give it two weeks. Things aren’t supposed to make sense at the beginning, but after two weeks, you’ll settle into a routine. You’ll know what your boss wants … what your teacher wants. After two weeks, you’ll feel better, be more settled, more in the flow. Give it two weeks and give yourself some grace as you walk it through.”

Sage advice some would say, especially from a battle-tested mom who’s weathered her own share of new things over the years. Or so it seems.

Over the past year, my advice has come back around to haunt me … taunt me as I transitioned to a new job at Campbell University. In those beginning days of employment, I would often hear my daughter echo the same sentiment over my fledgling transition into my new role:

“Give it two weeks, Mom. You know what you always say – things will feel better in two weeks. Just hang on.”

Well, two weeks came and went, and I was struggling. At an age when many women are looking toward retirement, I went looking for a new job. What I quickly found out is that, while advancing age often begets wisdom, age doesn’t always keep pace with changing trends and technology. The latter often outpaces the former.

It’s been a year now since my vocational transition. My two weeks have turned into fifty-two, and today I do feel better, I am more settled, and the workflow seems more natural than it did in those beginning weeks. Campbell University has been kind to me and afforded me green pastures to grow within and alongside some extraordinary people.

Today I am reflecting on that growth, and I have a list of sorts … a few insights that are not necessarily new to me but ones that have been reinforced for me during my time here. They aren’t particularly ground-breaking or soul-stirring revelations, but I thought I would share them with you. Perhaps there is some encouragement (even laughter) to be found with their revealing, especially if you’re in a time of transition.

So… 11 gleanings from 52 weeks of pasturing in this place:

#1 – Don’t wait on people to find you. Go find your people.

Here’s where age and accumulated wisdom bear fruit.

News Flash: The world isn’t waiting to find you; the world’s too busy to notice you. If you want “in,” you’d better jump in with a big splash and a big smile. Let people know you are there, and that you’re not afraid to get a little wet. Soon, you won’t feel like a fish out of water; instead, you’ll be swimming alongside some of the best of them.

#2 – People are still people.

A vocational shift doesn’t eliminate personalities; it simply provides a different stage upon which you can act your part alongside a new cast of characters. Wherever humans gather, drama follows. There will be a hero, maybe even a villain, a supporting cast and a host of “extras” to fill the stage. You may not get to choose the performers, but you can certainly master your role in the script. Learn your lines, act your scenes, take your cues and (for goodness sakes) when the curtain drops, leave the stage. The spotlight is reserved for a few, but the curtain call highlights the many. Find your place therein.

#3 – Slow days are for uncluttering.

When you “didn’t get the memo” about not coming to work, and you’re the only one in the building, take a moment to look around. Instead of noticing the silence, notice the opportunity. Busy days often build cluttered lives – cluttered file cabinets, messy drawers, accumulated artifacts and dusty desktops. When a day affords you a pause from routine, use the day to lessen your mess. Your busy days will thank you.

#4 – A candy dish fosters community.

Fill a dish with candy, and, before long, you’ll have a room full of friends. Preferences reign at the candy dish. From Jolly Ranchers™ to Smarties™ to Kit Kats™ to Tootsie Rolls™ to Lifesavers™. Not everyone chooses the same candy; but everyone convenes at the same dish. A single dish balances the workplace in a simple way that reaps relational dividends beyond the momentary satisfaction of a sweet tooth.

#5 – Prayer is the universal language.

A candy dish offers community with one another, but a prayer offers communion with the living God. Offer both. One satisfies temporarily; the other satisfies eternally.

#6 – Take the stairs.

In strengthening your legs, you strengthen your heart. You increase your flexibility and relieve stress in the process. Take time for the ascent; the climb is worth the compensation.

#7 – Guard your tongue.

My father once told me, “Not every thought that comes into your head needs to come out of your mouth, Elaine.” He’s right; it’s been a costly lesson at times, one that I’m still learning. Certainly, thoughts are the makings of good conversation, but some thoughts are better held personally and deeply within without utterance. And by the way, political speak is almost always divisive; it leaves a lasting impression. If you want to keep a good one about your co-workers and vice versa, speak less on the matter. Eat more candy instead (see #4).

#8 – College kids still need a mom.

The new-found sense of independence that comes from being away from home doesn’t mean that home isn’t needed. Be a mom (or a dad) to those whose hearts are caught between wanting the freedom of a young adult and craving the security of being a child. If you’re on a college campus or have younger people sitting beneath your influence, lean into your battle-tested interior. You’re a pro at being older and wiser. Lend your strength and your hugs to others.

#9 – People are more important than personal power, promotions or preferences.

Don’t underestimate the value of a person by overestimating your value. Stepping over or on someone to step up your game is costly – a price-tag that often exceeds dollars and cents by bankrupting a soul.

#10 – Not all learning takes place in a classroom.

Some students sit behind desks, answer phones, fix light bulbs, mow the grass, make the food and clean the toilets. A life well-lived is a life well-learned. Be kind to your classmates. We share the road of learning.

And lastly…

#11 – An old dog really can learn a few new tricks.

Despite changing trends and technology, I have been able to learn a few new things in these past 52 weeks at Campbell. The key? I think it has something to do with humility – being able to laugh at yourself and realizing that you don’t know everything but that, by God’s very good design, you can lean into your learning. It’s not been a very graceful process for me, but at every turn it has been grace-filled.

God has loved me well by leading me here to these green pastures. This new thing has finally taken hold of me, and for that, I am grateful.

So, if today you, like me, are in need of an extra week or 52 weeks to find your footing, give yourself permission and grace enough to let time runs its course. May God draw close to you, hold you, strengthen and encourage you to keep moving forward. Your new things will eventually become your old things, and you will feel better, be more settled in your spirit and more comfortable with the flow of the life unfolding around you.

Hang on, friend. Greener pastures are up ahead. As always…

Peace for the journey,

On Threading a Needle Toward Holiness

Student, Ken Collins and Dad at Baltic Seminary

Holiness.

I’ve been chewing on this one today … gnawing away and swallowing bites of something I don’t fully understand but something, nonetheless, I deeply desire –

to be like Jesus.

Getting there isn’t easy. The way of holiness often includes our weaknesses – the stuff within that needs to be rooted without. Exposure of those weaknesses is sometimes painful but can also be beautiful in ways that we never anticipated on the front side of disclosure.

Let me explain.

I want to thread a needle for you and show you a fascinating, most striking mosaic that is part of my story and that warms my heart deeply today in a space that fully needs the witness of its strength.

Not long ago, Jadon sent me a link to series of Wesleyan Theology lectures given by Dr. Ken Collins at the Baltic Methodist Theological Seminary in Estonia (dated 2019). Dr. Collins is a professor at Asbury Theological Seminary who once shared those hallowed hallways alongside my father-professor, Dr. Chuck Killian – two men linking arms to bear witness to the seminary’s motto “The Whole Bible for the Whole World.”

Ken Collins is now one of Jadon’s professors, along with being his mentor for candidacy in the Global Methodist Church. Ken is a world-renowned scholar in all things Methodism and communicates this passion with clarity and originality. Jadon likes his teaching style and, needing to fill my mind with good, God-thoughts, I decided to listen in.

The connectional thread of Jadon being at Asbury and being mentored by one of my father’s friends from ATS is mosaic enough to make me sit back and admire God’s providence in my family’s lives. But that’s not the thread that had me leaning in for a closer look today. Instead, and more deeply, the realization hit me about the lectern from which Ken taught – a classroom in Estonia in a seminary that my father helped establish.

In August 1994, my daddy taught the very first class at the Baltic Methodist Theological Seminary on the subject of “practical theology” to fifty-four eager students, hungry to fulfill their part in the Great Commission.

From the website:

The facilities in Apteegi Street were extremely cramped. The single classroom was full from the start. Students sat on simple chairs, and took notes with their books on their knees. The dining area did not have sufficient seats, and so for lunch or coffee students were sitting on the stairs and in the window sills. The library was in a broom closet. Open the door and there was the librarian at her desk, with a few books on a shelf. Most of the books were in boxes in the basement. The office for the President, Dean, secretary and all the faculty was a partitioned area approximately 1.5metres (5 feet) wide by 4 meters (12 feet) long.

Students and faculty were literally rubbing shoulders all day, a closeness that created a very warm atmosphere. As well, the excitement generated by the newness of theological study made the Seminary tingle with excitement. Many of the first students were mature Christians and self-taught pastors who had dreamt of freedom during long years of communist occupation and of the chance to study and practice their faith free from oppression and persecution.

The more I listened to Dr. Collins speak about John Wesley and holiness, set against backdrop of the Baltic Methodist Theological Seminary, the more deeply my spirit was enlivened to the Spirit of God. A day that (for me) began in darkness suddenly shifted to a day full of light.

A day full of remembering my legacy. A day full of cultivating hope. A day of forgetting the hard purge of holiness and, instead, a day of relinquishing to its flames. Why?

Because there’s too much on the line by not submitting my life to Christ’s crucible.

What my daddy has left behind and what Ken Collins continues to do through his teaching and with my son is, indeed, a needle worth threading. I cannot fully put my finger on it, but my pulsing heart tells me that I’m on to something.

Daddy has long since left the hallways of Asbury Seminary and the Baltic Seminary. But there’s a piece of him still there in both places. Jadon in the former and Ken Collins in the latter. The echoes from both spaces deafen my ears with a ring of the eternal and paint a mosaic worthy of the throne room of heaven. Heaven, alone, counts the lives transformed by the faithfulness of a few willing servants.

What has happened in the past and what is happening in the present is, indeed, holy. From the inside out and the outside in, God makes himself known to his children. He shows up, sometimes unexpectedly, sometimes on a day when the darkness threatens to snuff out the light, and challenges us to go deeper with him toward a better life of freedom and understanding.

Oh yes, I want to be like Jesus, even when getting there is hard. Today, I think I moved a little closer in that direction. Today I traded in my vain imaginations for better thinking – a mind fixed on Jesus and what he wants me to know rather than on how the world and its people make me feel. 

So, thanks be to God, to my daddy, to Jadon and to Ken Collins. Their work toward holiness has offered me a way forward toward mine.

The Whole Bible for the Whole World. Right here where I am. Right there where you are. May the kindness of God, the truth of his Son Jesus Christ, and the strength of his Holy Spirit rest on us all and pull us closer to his image this day. As always…

Peace for the journey,

Wes and Joy Griffin, along with my parents at 1st Baltic Seminary graduation

 

[accessed 7-05-2024, https://www.emkts.ee/index.php/en/general/history]

an unhindered walk in God’s meadow

Jadon called me yesterday afternoon to share some good news. He’s been gone for two weeks now, off to a summer’s worth of adventure at a family campground serving as the Activities Director. This is new territory for us; Jadon’s never been away from home for very long. And while it’s been an adjustment to my mothering heart, it’s been a necessary one. The boy was ready to step away from the nest; to keep him tethered to my side a moment longer would have been unfair to him and to those waiting for him on the other side. For as much as I’ve needed him under my roof all of these years, the world needs him under theirs for the rest of these years … doing what God has ordained him to do. Being what God has ordained him to be.

A kingdom-bringer.

His journey to get to this moment has been rigorous at times. The accident that nearly cost him his life physically has, instead, become the hinge moment that cost him his life spiritually. Jadon’s all-in with Jesus; he’s a solid, unwavering disciple of Christ who has prepared himself both practically and spiritually for bringing the good news of the Gospel to the pavement of everyday life.

Like yesterday.

With a day off from camp responsibilities, Jadon decided to get a hair-cut. He called around to a few places before landing an appointment at a salon not far from the campground. Inevitably, the scar on his scalp opens up the door for lively discussion. Yesterday was no different. The stylist’s curiosity was ripe soil for the sowing of Jadon’s story. He’s perfected the details and, depending on the situation, is ready to deliver either the short version or the long one. She got the long one.

In return, Jadon received a bit of her story as well. She grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness but left the group several years ago. In hearing Jadon’s testimony, she marveled at his words, even commenting, “No one has ever told me this before.” One question led to another, and a dynamic biblical discussion ensued. The excitement in Jadon’s voice in the re-telling to me was evident.

“Mom, it was like something came over me; there was a power there, and the words kept flowing like I have never known.”

Fast-forward to the closing moments of Jadon’s appointment. Once he had ascertained that the stylist didn’t have a real Bible, he made his way to his car where he keeps an extra one (just in case). He brought it back to her and asked her if her heart was inclined to make a decision for Jesus.

It was. And right there, in that not-so-random-pick of a salon, a stylist met her Savior for the very first time in her life.

From Jadon’s scars to her scars and, then, ultimately, to Jesus’ scars. A full circle kind of moment. The Gospel on the pavement of everyday life.

That’s everything. That’s it … the sum total of what we should be doing. The finest version of what we should be being.

Of all the million little things that happened in the world yesterday, nothing was more significant than the revelation of Jesus Christ to a lost soul in Asheboro, NC. Nothing. No thing. Just a girl coming to the realization that, until this single moment of her thirty-something years on this planet, no one had ever told her the truth. In hearing Jadon’s words, she heard her Father’s invitation to step boldly and confidently onto his solid ground – his Way, his Truth, and his Life – his Son, Jesus Christ.

As Jadon made ready to leave, he pointed to John’s Gospel and told her to start there. And as only God could orchestrate this holy moment, another customer in the shop overheard their entire exchange. She, too, was a believer and invited the stylist to come to church with her.

The Father’s love for the lost is so full, so complete … so generous and so kind.

And you know what gets all over me the most? It’s the thought that yesterday morning, a stylist went to work not knowing who would sit in her chair. She was oblivious to the fact that the soil of her soul was being plowed up to receive the Gospel seed of my son’s witness. That yesterday afternoon around 3:00 PM was the day … the moment of her salvation and that, for the first time in her life, she would take an unhindered walk in God’s meadow of grace, freedom, forgiveness, and truth.

Good news, indeed.

Yes, the world needs Jadon under its roof now. It needs all of us who are willing to surrender our lives accordingly. Our wills, our passions, our pursuits, our understandings, our scars – all given to the One who can make them count for his kingdom eternally.

May the hearing of this story encourage and strengthen you in your faith, and may you, like this new daughter of the King, walk unhindered in God’s meadow of grace today. May you be protected in that place of renewal and rebirth. May the beauty of his blossoms touch your feet and fill your senses with the reality of his unwavering presence alongside you. May you know, to the depths of your being, that the kingdom of God lives inside of you. It’s really that close.

And finally, may this holy ordination from God be your solid ground in the coming days, bringing you the clarity, strength, sweetness, and peace for the journey that lies ahead.

The world is a big place; the kingdom of God even bigger. What a blessing to rest under his roof tonight.

Amen.

an obedience to sow…

“What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe – as the Lord has designed to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. … For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building.”    

-1 Corinthians 3:5 – 7, 9.

She surprised me today during snack time. As I was leaving the cafeteria with my new crew of 4th graders, she was entering it as a two-week-in, sixth grader. She hurriedly made her way toward me, gave me a hug, and simply said, “Thank you, Mrs. Olsen … for planting a seed in my heart.” Her carefully chosen words paused my spirit and brought a silent tear to my eye as I patted her cheek and responded: “You’re one of the best of them, dear; one of the best.”

Seeds sown … this was her reason behind her gratitude; accordingly, it has become the reason behind my gratitude this afternoon. I’ve been waiting for her to “show up” for over a year now. When she walked out of my classroom in June 2015, I thought we’d pick up the relationship where we’d left it come fall. That was not to be, and it broke my heart. She, along with many of the other students in that class, distanced themselves from me. And while that is the natural way of letting go and moving on, it tore me up inside. I had loved them deeply, had given them the best of me for an entire year. To date, that season was one of the hardest walks of daily surrender I’ve ever had to make. So when it was over, and when an entire year passed amongst us with barely a nod from any of those students in my direction, well, I began to think that all of those seeds I had intentionally sown had fallen on fallow soil.

Apparently not.

Apparently some took root.

Apparently some are still growing, thanks be to God.

You see, it really is all God’s doing. Certainly, my obedience plays an important role in the growth process, but in the end, it’s God who superintends the heart’s development. I am nothing more than a fellow worker, a field laborer who releases the good seed of God’s love into the soil of human hearts. Every now and again, I get to hold the watering can. Occasionally, I have the privilege of seeing blooms come to harvest. But most days, I’m simply a sower, not a grower.

It’s been a tough lesson to learn.

In all of life, not just in the classroom, God intends for you and I to understand and to accept this sacred principle of kingdom sowing. We are the privileged farmers, and God alone is the King. We farm his land, and the work we do is for the betterment of his kingdom, not ours. It’s a weighty thing to try and take on God’s roll.

Who of us can grow a kingdom heart into God’s likeness? Who of us can shape a heart and make it holy? Who of us can raise a harvest that anchors deeply, grows uprightly, and points directly to the Son?

Oh, my friends, it is a dangerous thing to assume such noble responsibility. We are not fit for the task. Instead, we are fit for the plow, for some boots and for an apron full of seed. It is enough to stand there in that place of service. It is enough to walk the length and breadth of the land, broadcasting the good seed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ upon the soil of men’s hearts. It is enough to just get to the end of the long day and to clean our mud-caked boots … our weathered hands and hearts from another day’s hard laboring. It is enough to live there in the shadows of not knowing whether or not the seed grabbed the earth and burrowed deeply within.

It is simply enough for us to be faithful with the sowing.

We don’t have to see the end. We only need to believe that the kingdom work we’re doing today is a step forward toward that end. In the end, we will see the fullness of the Father’s harvest, and we will understand that seeds sown in faithfulness never fall onto fallow soil. Instead, they fall forward toward fruitfulness. It is our holy privilege to stand there … in that place of release.

To understand this principle of sowing on the front side (and backside) of the planting is a good gift. But to see it firsthand … to taste the fruit of the harvest? Well, that’s one of the best gifts a heart could receive on this side of the veil. I pray that you, like me, may occasionally see and taste some of the fruit of God’s harvest through you in coming days. But if the fields seem barren and no visible fruit is seen, don’t lose your focus. Sow onward and let God do what God does best.

He gardens; he makes things grow. Of this I am certain.

Keep sowing, keep trusting, and keep knowing that He who began a good work in you and through you, is faithful to see it through to completion. As always…

Peace for the journey,

on being a “doorkeeper” …

“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.” –Psalm 84:10

There was a defining moment in my ministry life several years ago. It happened unexpectedly but not by accident. I often find this to be the case with the Father’s holy whispers regarding my life. They arrive when I don’t expect them but are so specific in their delivery that they are easily defined as authentic, as divine rather than random.

Our spring, ladies’ Bible study was coming to a close. During the final Tuesday night session we explored the concept of “calling”—the ministry that God has assigned to all believers to serve as his conduits of kingdom grace. We discussed the above scripture from Psalm 84 and what it meant to be a doorkeeper in the house of God. In the course of our conversation, a cell phone rang. The embarrassed participant fumbled around in her belongings in an effort to silence the distraction. The curious look she had on her face led my curious heart to make an inquiry: “Everything OK?”

“Elaine, you’re not going to believe the picture my sister-in-law just sent to me on my phone. Take a look.”

I did and went slack-jawed at the revelation. It was a picture of a beautiful wreath hanging . . . on a door. No sooner had the words passed from my lips about being a “doorkeeper” in the house of God than God sent his holy confirmation via a picture of a door on a cell phone. Unexpected? Yes. Accidental? I don’t think so. You might think so, but I’ve lived long enough with God to know when he’s trying to solidify a point. It doesn’t always happen this way; sometimes his directives are less obvious. But when his knock is blatant, I’ve learned to open up the door to entreat his instructions.

And so, that night I bowed my head and heart to this anointing, believing that God was calling me to the simple, yet profound task of being a doorkeeper to his extraordinary kingdom. To be a servant who stands at the threshold of God’s temple, guarding the sacred trust within and graciously opening up the door so that others might enter into their Father’s house, so that they might finally know what it is to come home and to be welcomed and warmed by the truth of his love. At that time, I didn’t fully understand what this sacred affirmation would look like for me in the coming months. Years later, I still don’t fully grasp the breadth and depth of what this means for me. But this I do know: the memory of that defining moment is still defining me. It stalks me, calls me, reminds me, and strengthens me. It minimizes my fear about my calling by keeping it fairly simple, despite my attempts at making it so very complex.

Calling. I think we’ve done a disservice within the Christian community in our conversations along these lines. We’ve made it too hard, wrapped too many formulas around the notion of “calling”, trying to fine-tune our areas of ministry to the exclusion of ministering in the moment-at-hand. Certainly, God has instilled in each one of his children different giftings that lend themselves to a particular area of ministry. We should walk in those giftings, develop them and offer them to others in service to our King. But our calling should not be limited by our giftings; instead, our calling should extend through them. Our calling stands before and behind, above and below any outpouring of excellence. Our calling is greater than our giftedness. Our calling is simple: to know God and then, out of that knowing, to lead others to know the same.

“‘Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.’” –John 17:3

 “‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’” –Matthew 28:18-20

In establishing the vision for our ministries, these two criteria serve as the foundation for God’s vision therein. Know him and then, from that knowing, lead others to know him more fully. For me, that looks a whole lot like being a doorkeeper. Accordingly, I tend to the sacred trust I’ve been given, carefully guard the good deposit within me, and then, as the Lord prompts, I open up the doors to that kingdom storehouse and invite others in to feast on his treasures.

Every now and again, there comes a defining moment for all of us as it pertains to our ministries going forward. God’s word to you might be very specific. He may firmly grip your heart with an affirmation about what job you should take, where you should live, how you should serve. If that’s your case, then walk on in confidence. Do not hesitate to take hold of God’s holy confirmation.

But if that’s not you, if there is no grand moment of clarification, don’t get too hung up on the particulars. Instead, lend your heart to the moment-at-hand. Serve the kingdom right where you are. Stand at the gate of your temple; guard closely the doors of your heart, and tend fervently to the wealth within. Live there, in God’s house, and you’ll better understand this notion of calling. In tending to our temples, we tend to the Father’s business. Out of that overflow comes a life defined, a life on purpose, and a life on fire for the King and his renown.

Be a doorkeeper, friend. Be a protector of all things sacred. Be a greeter for the kingdom of God. I don’t imagine there’s a finer calling on this side of eternity. Thus, I pray . . .

Keep us to our calling, Lord, to stand watch over the temple and to open its door to others when they come knocking. We want to know you more and then, out of that knowing, help others to know you as well. You are the Way. You are the Truth. You are the Life. In knowing you, we hold all the knowledge we will ever need for this pilgrimage of faith. In knowing you, we know enough to get us safely home. Amen.

error: Content is protected !!