I'm Tired of Running

On Sunday, February 26, 2012 I stopped running. I had been running for too long; almost 29 years to be exact.

What was I running from? The authorities? An angry customer? A bill collector? The answer would be NO to all of those questions. I had been running from a call. A call that I neither understood or really wanted. The call was to be involved in full-time ministry.

When I was in 10th grade, I participated in the Fine Arts competition at my Christian School. I sang a solo and was invited to preach a sermon. The results were so favorable that I advanced to the State competition. Same results, on to National competition at Bob Jones University in South Carolina. Everyone was telling me that I was a natural and I should be a preacher. I was a little more reserved in my review of the events that had transpired.

I wasn't totally against the idea, I just wanted to make sure I was God called not "them" called. However, I continued to postpone making a decision and in a few years, the desire to preach was gone. Whew! I got jobs, got married, had kids and began singing in gospel groups - thinking I had found my niche.

Life then set in. The jobs came and went. The marriage, which we realized after 16 years was not based on love but convenience, crumbled and now I get to see my kids every other weekend. Then, about 6 months ago, the desire to be doing something started again. I was singing with a quartet that was getting a pretty fast following and thought that was it. I needed to be singing. But I later realized that was not all I was supposed to be doing.

Feb. 26th I stopped running. I surrendered to the call on my life to become involved in full-time ministry. To date, I do not have a clear direction on what He wants me to do but I am patiently waiting for doors to open. It could be preaching, teaching, evangelistical work, etc.

Until then, I'll just keep reading the Word, praying for direction and listening to that still small voice that will guide me and my family into the next phase of our lives.