The looming grey clouds over the Paris skyline finally broke into a thunderous rainfall, and Thomas and I looked around quickly to find shelter for our three young children. Notre Dame Cathedral was only a few blocks away, so we headed in that direction, ushering the kids under umbrellas. Inside was peacefully magnificent. As Thomas walked with the children around the church, I settled in a pew to still myself in prayer.
I had a lot on my mind. I had just been accepted as a student at the Lutheran Theological Seminary in Saskatoon, and I was contemplating a path towards church leadership in pastoral or diaconal ministry. How does one know if they’re “called” to ordained ministry? I imagined something spectacular, like bolts of lightning in epiphany, or something steadfast like following in family footsteps. I experienced none of these things.
As I was lost in thought, wondering what God’s will for me is, a man walked down the aisle and of all the places he could sit, he sat right in front of me. My mild annoyance turned to laughter as I surveyed the back of his clothing. He was wearing a green University of Saskatchewan t-shirt.
God, we give you thanks for the ways you call us into ministry. Guide our steps as we continue to walk in your way. Amen. —