Coming into acceptance . . .

A new member at Harvest referred to me as Pastor Juana yesterday . . . . and I didn't cringe . . . didn't wince . . . or turn my head to see who this person was. I just accepted it as such . . . rested in the knowledge of this new emerging person and thanked God for using me.

Whatcha call me?

Oh my goodness! It just dawned on me. . . people will probably start calling me Minister or Pastor Juana! So that means I have five days left (up until the wee hours before the first church service starts) to get over the name change, accept it and be ready to walk in it.
Sunday is fast approaching. On May 17, I'll officially be the pastoral intern at Harvest UMC in Bradenton. And for the next three months I'll be emerged in all things pastoral. So yeah, I'll probably hear Pastor or Minister Juana more than a few times.

A few days ago at Candler's graduation, one of my former high school classmates -- who is also a pastor -- approached me saying, "Hey Reverend, how you doing?" My eyes got wide. My head turned from side-to-side and I wondered for a split second who he was talking to. Then last night I get a call from another high school classmate who wanted to know how he should address me this weekend at the class reunion. "Should I call you "Bishop, Reverend, Pastor, what?" he asked me.

"Juana is fine, " I said.

As I've shared before, the reason I struggle with the title is because of the weight of the responsibilities and expectations it carries. I'm in a insulated environment inside Candler where it's normal to hear Minister this or Reverend that. It's largely outside of that bubble that I squirm uncomfortably in my skin when I hear the prefix added. You never know what's coming behind it -- a joke, a snide remark, or a challenge to see whether you know what people think you should know. "So, what are apostles and are they still in existence today?"

What does that have to do with what's happening in the world right now? Nothing.

But more than anything, I often think it just doesn't sound like me. Every now and then, I go rounds with God, like Moses, offering objections to why this idea of being becoming a minister possibly won't work. Of course these are the days when I am extremely frustrated and overwhelmed by it all. Overwhelmed by what God is saying I must do. Moses gave 5 objections. I've probably given about 10 to 15 (some probably repeats) and none of them have been able to stand up in court. It's amazing who God calls. I still wonder sometimes why God chose me. Being a pastor was not what I wanted to grow up doing. I just wanted to write a few books and travel the world telling people about the liberation I've found in my relationship with Jesus.

Uhhhh, kinda sounds like a minister, huh? Yeah.

I have to remember that I prayed for God's will for my life to be my will. And God's will is for me to walk this road. And his gift in this obedience is to help me meet my greatest passion with the world's greatest need. Sure, I fight from time-to-time and wrestle with this. I'm told I probably always will. But there are the in-between times when I remember that I have been called "for such a time as this" to aid a world that hurts in a way that it didn't when I started this journey. God must think me some kind of special! And that's pretty cool.

So, Minister and Pastor Juana it is!

So now I'm a teacher . . .

On at least two occasions this weekend, someone asked me if I were a teacher. Both times I was told that I had "the look" of one. Both times, I found that baffling. What does a teacher look like? Of course I certainly didn't think I possessed the look, whatever "the look" is. But funny thing, this isn't the first time I've been asked if whether that is my profession.

Maybe it is. Maybe it has been all along. And now, I'm growing into it.

A friend of mine this week shared with me and another friend how important it is when a man gives the woman he is seeing, a name. How she takes on a different role in his life when he introduces her as "his girlfriend" or "his woman." My friends and I mulled over that and concluded that sometimes we don't always recognize when our name is being called, largely because we haven't really been paying attention or come to accept our name. It's kind of like the first time I saw Minister next to my name on a program and heard it called out loud. I didn't recognize it as being me. Still don't. It's a work in progress. Why I've toyed with this in my head, I don't know. I mean, Jesus was called teacher -- Rabboni. And so being called that can't be a bad thing. And I am going to "Jesus" school.

Nonetheless, I reflected on that conversation today and it dawned on me, people are calling me by a name I didn't recognize as my name largely because I haven't wanted to accept it, even though it's been an answer to prayer. Gotta be careful about what I pray for. As I have shared before, I've wrestled over who God is calling me to be and my prayer has been that I began to see myself the way God and others see me. Apparently this past Saturday and Sunday, two men saw me as a teacher. They didn't ask me what kind I was. They just figured I was.

Guess what? They're right. I am. And today, I feel good about walking in that name.