Fifteen years ago, I felt the call, too.
I was wide-eyed, heart-on-fire, ready to give my life to what I believed was the most beautiful work anyone could ever do, serving God’s people. I still believe that. But now, after years of walking this road, I’ve learned that calling isn’t always glamorous. It’s not just microphones, mission trips, and mountaintop moments. It’s also gut-wrenching heartbreak, misunderstandings, and nights spent weeping on the kitchen floor after everyone else has gone home.
You say you feel called to ministry? Then let me tell you what I’ve learned.
I’ve seen lives changed radically, beautifully, eternally. I’ve watched God show up in hospital rooms, at altar calls, on retreat buses, and during whispered prayers from trembling teenagers. I’ve watched light fill once hollow eyes. I’ve seen prodigals come home. I’ve seen miracles.
And because of that, I’ll never walk away. I can’t.
This isn’t a job. It’s a deep, irrevocable knowing. It’s the quiet certainty in my bones that I was born for this. That when God knit me together, He stitched this calling into the very fabric of my soul. I don’t choose it anymore. It chose me, and it keeps choosing me every time I want to give up.
But I won’t pretend it’s all beautiful.
Because along the way, I’ve also been wounded, sometimes by the very hands that once reached for prayer. I’ve been betrayed by those who called themselves “family,” criticized by those who never knew the whole story, and silenced in the very rooms I helped build. I’ve seen the ugly side of the Church, not just the institution, but the people. The gossip cloaked in “concern.” The power plays. The spiritual manipulation. The injustice that still lingers in the very places where justice should lead.
There have been more tears than I ever expected. And still, there was God.
Still, He meets me in the ache. He whispers peace into the shattered places. He holds me up when I’m too tired to keep going. And He reminds me, repeatedly, that ministry isn’t about applause. It’s about obedience.
So, if you feel called, welcome.
You’re stepping into something holy and hard. You’re going to need thick skin and a tender heart. You’ll have to fight for joy, cling to grace, and trust that God sees every moment the world overlooks. You’ll pour out your life and sometimes wonder if it matters. But it does. Eternity echoes in the unseen.
Don’t come for the spotlight. Don’t come for the title. Come because you know you were born for this. Come because you can’t not come. Come with your whole heart but keep your eyes wide open.
This road is costly.
But it’s also worth everything.