Dear Child,

I’ve been searching for my place – my calling – for quite some time. For the past ten years (or perhaps the last 28), I’ve been wondering what I should do with my life. As you know, the dream held in my heart since childhood was to become a mother. Having children became my sole pursuit and (if I’m being completely honest) rose to a level of idolatry. To add to my sinful view of motherhood, I began to believe my goal of mothering would be the capstone of my life. My vision was fogged, prohibiting me from seeing God’s guiding hand. As your father and I entered into our fourth year of infertility, I finally began to wonder if the Lord had been allowing time and space for me to recognize an additional calling on my life.

(In lieu of misunderstanding, I would like you to know that my desire to be your mom will remain steadfast. Should God grant me the gift of children I will mother you with great joy. I hope my recent procedures have been successful and that you join us soon. However, I want you to see that motherhood may be a part of my tapestry, but God is weaving together an even bigger picture. I think I’m becoming more fully me because of my years of waiting for you, Child. I am already grateful for the role you’ve played in my self-realization.)

In this time of longing and waiting, I feel a little bit like the Israelites on their journey through the barren desert, wondering if God really has their Promised Land waiting. With Kevin’s completion of grad school and ordination and now settling into full time ministry, I started feeling an ache for more. “What about me? What now?”

A decade has passed since my days as a naïve freshman at Spring Arbor University. (How has it been that long?) I’ve spent hours talking with loved ones, professors, and pastors about what God might have for me. Kevin has endured countless conversations of speculation, resulting in no decision. After a late-summer discussion left me with no further clarity, I started getting frustrated with my husband feeling that he wasn’t supporting me in my pursuits. He explained that he has been waiting for me to say with gusto, “This is it! I’m going for it.” He knew my calling was between me and the Lord.

In the moments that followed my complaint, the Lord spoke to me, revealing the journey ahead of me. After taking the risk-free roads for so long, I am finally willing to plunge headlong into a Masters of Divinity at Asbury Theological Seminary.

I have always wanted to go to grad school, but didn’t want to dive in without a clear vision and purpose for the degree. While I’m completely aware of the fact that I will need to remain pliable to the Lord’s leading (even if it means diverting from my plan….), I believe this degree program will allow me to hone my passion and deepen my knowledge of Spiritual Formation. I intend to become an author and lecturer on this subject, helping many experience God’s transformation in their lives. Ordination in the Free Methodist Church may become a part of this journey, and I’m considering the longterm goal of a Doctor of Ministry degree. (*ahem* Ruth Haley Barton, if you’re reading this, I’d love to come work for you at Transforming Center.)

I’ve not a clear vision clue what I’ll be doing in 10 years, and that’s ok. We are stepping out in faith believing that God will provide the means and the dedication to complete this step along His path. My Child, if you join us during the next year or three, I will certainly have my work cut out for me. But God’s got this.

As of November 5th, I have officially been accepted for admittance in the MDiv program at Asbury with plans to enroll in the online program for the Spring 2015 semester. And get this! I learned that ATS is creating a Advanced Standing Program in which students with an undergrad degree in Philosophy/Religion (me!) can transfer up to 18 credits of their coursework into the 96 credit hours of the MDiv meaning (woah!) my Bachelor’s degree might finally pay off!

Always waiting for you
& stepping out to follow in faith,

Your mama

(PS – check out this blurb from my in-law’s Christmas letter in 2007! I had completely forgotten this notion of mine, and felt an amazing confirmation when I stumbled across the words written seven years ago.)