I will say "Yes"

Call. The traditional understanding of a call to ministry is that the call comes from God. That’s an odd word for someone like me, who spent many years reciting reasons to reject all organized religion, and Christianity in particular. It is a particularly odd word for someone who let go of the old guy in the sky early in life and isn’t expecting to see a burning bush or to hear a personal message from a supernatural being.

Call. Yes. I've been called. And yes, I'd have to say the call came from god. I first heard the call to ministry from my mother. As we wrapped gifts for children in town, whose parents couldn’t get them holiday presents, she was showing us that all people had inherent worth and dignity. I also was led to a call by my father, our walks in the Oregon wilderness allowed the trees and sagebrush to call to me, letting me know that we are all a part of an interdependent web.

As I grew, the call grew clearer and sharper. Participation in Camp Fire Girls continued the conversation with the ocean and mountains, but also singing together at a campfire, worshipping together at Grand Council Fire, and working together to mentor younger girls added a call to creating community, and an understanding of the spiritual work needed in building a world of inner growth and outer justice. 

When I came out as a lesbian the call gained words and a specific voice in women's music and folk music. Ferron’s sang: “You know love has finally called for me, I will not wilt upon its stage” and Sweet Honey in the Rock sang: “We who believe in freedom cannot rest” and Holly Near sang “We are a Gentle Angry People.” These songs spoke of the gift of companions in the struggle of life and our responsibility to serve life and love in the face of fear.

First you have to hear the call, then you have to say yes to it. When I attended my first General Assembly (the annual gathering of representatives and enthusiasts of Unitarian Universalist congregations from across the United States.) I heard a gifted minister use the phrase: "Many are called but most are frozen." 

For me, the call was drowned out by the easy path, the struggle to find a spiritual home, and explorations in loving well and accepting love. Twelve years ago I found that spiritual home in Unitarian Universalism. During that time I fell in love and created a loving family. With new-found spiritual resources I no longer felt the restricting dependence on material resources. 

After five years in seminary, preparing to make the transition, I am now called to devote all that I am to ministry. The voices of god are clearly before my eyes, close enough to touch, and in my ear, when I hear the news about neighbors who won’t be able to afford health insurance, church members turning to one-another for a community of spiritual depth as they face loss, and the beauty of the willow, transforming itself in spring.

Yes. I heard a call, I saw a call, and it is time to live that call.