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After much time in the scriptures and many a sermons in which I underlined every verse my pastor preached I was ready to start experimenting, risking, and searching for my own voice.
When I was a freshman in high school, I thought I was going to be an orthopedic surgeon. I even enrolled in Latin class because someone told me that medical terms are derived from that dead language. One day, I broke a bone in my foot at cross-country practice and wound up in a cast…for 8 months! I saw this as the will of God for my life. Here I was wanting to be an orthopedic surgeon and now I had the opportunity to watch one up close working my body.
The Lord was at work but not as I suspected. It was during this time of impaired mobility as I lay with my leg propped up in my bed and my Bible on my lap that the Spirit of Christ spoke to me and called me to be a pastor.
Within days of this holy moment, I told my pastor about what I thought the Lord had told me. We prayed. He asked me if I would like to preach my first sermon at the Wednesday night prayer meeting. I said yes.
I panicked as I walked home! Me, preach? What would I say? After all, I knew what the scriptures said, but what were they supposed to say through me?
That was the day that I began to experience community as jam session in which the Holy Spirit, the scriptures, a mentor and an "audience" begin to call out of someone their voice.