Over the years, I’ve had several people ask me about my calling, specifically my calling into ministry. People are fascinated for a variety of reasons, and I’m always happy to share my story. My most recent opportunity came just yesterday when a young person who’s sensing and following their own call to ministry wanted to hear more of the details of my call. I gave them the abridged version, for sake of time and efficiency. I can’t and won’t promise the same thing here.

Do you mind if I tell you a short story? It’ll help connect the dots as we dig into the idea of calling.

My youngest son’s birthday was last week. He works at a hospital, and I thought it would be nice to have lunch with him on his birthday on his lunchbreak. This hospital’s parking lot is always crowded, so I had to park far from the main building and starting the long walk toward the hospital. 

As I walked, I heard a very faint, barely audible voice “Help me!”. It was barely above the decibel level of a light breeze. I turned my head side to side to see if I could see anything that matched what I imagined I heard but saw nothing. So, I kept walking. Ten to twenty feet later, I hear something again: “Can someone help me?” This time, it seems a bit louder and more urgent. This time, loud enough to stop me in my tracks. I again looked around, this time more intently trying to find the source of the distress call. Nothing. No one. I kept walking.

Another several seconds and paces pass. A third time, “Can someone help over here, please! We need help!” Okay, that’s it. Lunch would have to wait. I had to find out where that cry for help was coming from. I looked across the parking lot and saw a woman waving her arms in the air at me. I ran over and as I got closer, saw another set of feet—these belonging to a person on the ground between the parked cars. I said, “I’ll go get help” and I ran toward the Emergency Room entrance of the hospital. As I approached, I saw a doctor who had likely just ended his shift and was walking out. I told him there was a medical emergency in the parking lot and we both went into the Emergency Room to get more help. (Shout out to this weary doctor who undoubtedly just wanted to go home.) Within moments a team of nurses were following me as I pointed out where the person in need was located. As I turned and headed back toward the hospital, I saw another group of 2-3 nurses, with a hospital bed rolling in the direction of the person on the ground. So, I turned back toward the need and directed them as well. Confident that the help had found the helpless, I took a deep breath and continued on my way to lunch. 

You know what? I need to share another story to connect another dot. I’ll make it quick.

My teenage years were pretty normal. I did school, played in the band, dabbled in theater (with the varsity letter to prove it), and lived to hang out with my friends. Then I started dating a girl. She was a great girl, but that relationship drove me to make disastrous decisions that systematically destroyed every other relationship in my life. For the sake of time, that’s as detailed as I’ll get right now. Suffice it to say, I had made a complete mess of my life. Toward the end of that period, I went to a Christian music festival called “Creation” in Altoona, PA. It was June 1990. I sat in a sea of twelve-thousand people and listened to a message by Tony Campolo. But far as I was concerned, I was the only person in that open field. God spoke so clearly to me about where I had been, Who He was/is, and His love for me. I had wrecked my life and every relationship in it, and with every right to reject me, Jesus embraced me with grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness. If you’ve been in a similar place, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t been there, I only hope you will, perhaps without the pain that I brought upon myself. Standing in the middle of the ashes my life had become, Jesus was there with me, ready to heal, ready to help, ready to restore me completely. My eyes are welling up now thinking about it. Thirty-three or so years later, I’m still overwhelmed by His love for a “wretch like me”. As I stood up in the middle of that field in Altoona, PA I spoke a very simple prayer, one that I still repeat to this day. It was a prayer of full surrender. I meant it then, and I mean it today. 

When I think about my own calling, and I share my story with others, or try and advise those who are wrestling with their own sense of calling, I tell them the decision I made in that field in Pennsylvania on that warm June night. My calling wasn’t really a calling, at least not as you might imagine it would be. It was kind of an non-calling. All I knew was that I was broken, Jesus was healing, and there was only one response that made any sense. You’ll find this in Paul’s words to the Church in Rome in the first century. Read Romans 12:1 sometime. In light of what Jesus had done, the surrender of my life to Him was the only logical decision. I didn’t have a sky-splitting revelation of a grand future as a pastor, missionary, or evangelist. I didn’t really have a vision at all. I only knew what He did and offered my life to Him as a result. That was my calling. 

So how does someone recognize and reconcile the sense of calling they have? I wish I had a nice, neat formula, but then again I’m glad I don’t. I don’t believe it’s as neat and tidy as plugging variables into an equation and having it produce the answer for you. But let me see if I can give some handles to grab in this issue of calling. Here are some questions I’d offer to someone seeking to define their calling:

1. What has Jesus done for you and what is your response to Him? Be specific.
2. What has God put in your hands in terms of skills, passions, talents, and resources?
3. Where has God placed within you a hunger for helping humanity find the Healer?
4. What makes you angry? What do you see in our world that makes you say, “That isn’t right, and something’s got to be done about it”?
5. Are you willing to release the world’s opinion of you, and the world’s definition of success in order to be obedient to God’s directing voice in your life? 

These questions are by no means exhaustive, but I pray they are a starting point to help you define and embrace God’s calling on your life. And let me be clear: I reject the idea that calling equals full-time ministry or vocational ministry. I believe God calls people to be plumbers, retail workers, CEOs, lawyers, teachers, bakers, baristas, mechanics, contractors, nurses, and yes…even pastors. 

Back to that hospital parking lot. My calling is to listen closely for the cries for help in today’s generation. My calling is to point the helpless to the Help and to introduce the Help to the helpless. Flawed cracked pot that I am, I know who the Help, Healing, and Hope for humanity is. And I live to connect the helpless with the Help. That’s my calling.