Reformed Grits

“Slow and steady wins the race” or “How did we get here?” part 4 (because I know no more French)
May 5, 2008, 11:22 am
Filed under: Our Call

You are all gluttons for punishment at this point if you are back for more SSWTR/HDWGH.  Since you all are a bunch of suckahs and since Mr. Grits is involved in movie and I don’t wanna go to bed yet, I suppose this will put me to sleep.  The whole sad affair begins here. 

I looked at my beloved with a look of helpless abandon, of fear, of excitement, and of… peace.  How can you feel all those things at once?  I don’t know, but it must be God; especially if your spouse is feeling them all at the same time. 

That night we talked a lot about what was going on.  We weren’t sure, but we knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we had both just been called into ministry– to prepare to go, but to be willing to stay.  So we did the next thing that any person would do if they had received a definitive call– we sat on it. 

We did nothing for a long time.  Like, a year or two.  We mentioned it a few times to our pastor at church who talked to us briefly about it.  But he didn’t try to push us down a path.  We talked to some of our closest friends about what was going on, for their prayer support and counsel.  What was this call?  What were we to do?  We didn’t know.  We prayed a lot.  We continued to study and be in the Word and walk the path put in front of us, but we did nothing. 

I’ve heard our pastor say there is no hesitation in obedience.  But in many ways, I don’t think we truly knew yet WHAT we were to do.  Were we supposed to be missionaries?   If so, shouldn’t we have a burden for a specific place?  And if I was to be a missionary wife, shouldn’t I start growing out my hair?   I told one of our pastors, a former missionary to Africa, that my big fear about being a missionary wasn’t dying or having my children taken– although I’m sure I would have been scared of those things if I thought they were in danger– my biggest fear, was being poor.  We had just bought a house– and my security was tied up in that.   I didn’t want to have to live like a vagrant because of my own insecurity.    Shouldn’t I have known that the God who saved me, who made me, and who cares for me knows these things?   Yet we did nothing. 

And we were miserable.  The inaction was now disobedience, because we knew we were to be "preparing to go, but willing to stay."  Time marched on, and the call never went away.

Until one January night in 2002, Mr. Grits called me just before he left work and said, "I won’t be coming home tonight.  I’m starting seminary.  Tonight." 

To be continued…


2 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Has it really been six years since he started???

Can’t be.

I know you feel like it has been double that.

Comment by caroline

I never post I just lurk but tonight I have decided to post! I am enjoying this story so don’t take too long to get us the next segment. I meant to tell you tonight that you look like you feel much better! I hope so and hope the headachers are gone!

Comment by DeeDee

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