Even with multiple confirmations, I still needed just one more…
Then Gideon said to God, “Do not be angry with me. Let me make just one more request. Allow me one more test with the fleece, but this time make the fleece dry and let the ground be covered with dew.” (Judges 6:39 NIV)
Throughout my story, you’ll find examples of God speaking to me through dreams, signs, circumstances, and even voices, but there’s nothing like having God speak directly through the Scriptures.
It happened to me when I was called to Japan while reading Galatians 4:19-20, and it happened again when we were preparing to leave Japan and go to Santa Ana.
Soo had taken the boys to Seoul for spring break while I remained in Ofunato to start writing content for this blog, of all things.
One morning, during my quiet time, I read Psalm 89:1, which states:
“I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations.”
As the words leapt from the page, passed through my eyes, and registered in my mind, they rang a gong within my soul.
“All generations…”
Immediately, I knew.
I would be working with children next.
It may seem like it came out of left field– prayer pastor to missionary to kids’ pastor?– but it made perfect sense to me.
For one, I was in seminary, studying for a master’s degree in Christian Formation (MACF). This is the degree for children’s and youth pastors. I had enrolled in this program three years earlier, though it was not because I had any ambition to become a children’s pastor- as trite as it may sound, the main reason I enrolled in this program was that I didn’t feel that I could handle Hebrew and Greek classes, required for the M.Div but not for MACF, on top of Japanese language studies.
For another, I had been doing outreach to young tsunami survivors during our assignment in Japan. I would teach something like clay figure sculpting, English, or tai chi sword fighting to kids after school, and after the lesson was over, I’d share a little bit about Jesus, contextualizing the gospel in a way they could more easily grasp.
And while we were in Ofunato, attending a small church with two members, I had to start preparing lessons for our two boys, as there was no children’s programming at a church that size. Every week, I’d teach my kids a story from the Bible, using my silly character voices to illustrate and help them understand who Jesus is and how each story points to Him.
I felt that God had been preparing me through missions work to make His faithfulness known through all generations, from the octogenarians living in temporary housing to children in need of after-school activities.
When I read Psalm 89:1 and got the sense that I would enter children’s ministry, my first inclination was to email my old mentor at our home church to share it, but the Holy Spirit stopped me with a faint impression:
“Wait. Don’t contact anyone about this yet. Let God first do something on the other side.”
So I waited and said nothing.
Three or four days later, my mentor emailed me and asked, “Would you consider becoming the children’s pastor?”
Yeah. God is funny that way.
My mentor and I talked about what the role required and what they were looking for. I was briefed that the church was looking for a shepherding type of pastor, as the children’s ministry role was not just geared towards children, but to parents and volunteers as well. The kids’ ministry needed some TLC after the church had gone through some drama/trauma in the wake of some difficult staff transitions and the move from Irvine to Santa Ana. My mentor had floated my name as a possibility to the parents’ search committee and received some positive feedback.
He asked if I could fly in from Japan and interview for the role on a specific weekend.
I checked my calendar. It would be tough— that was the same weekend after Soo and the boys would be returning from Seoul. With me out of town, halfway around the world, Soo and the boys would have to manage the weekend on their own, without the ability to drive anywhere.
I tried to negotiate for a different date, but it seemed like this was urgent, and the church wanted me to interview sooner rather than later. So, after discussing it with Soo, I agreed to the interview and booked my flight.
It felt like God was lining everything up.
But then came the spiritual attacks.
Soo and the boys returned to Ofunato from Seoul, where the boys were sick most of the time, leaving Soo to care for them on her own on what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation. As we discussed my upcoming trip to LA and looked at our calendars, we realized just how much of a strain this interview was going to put on our family: I would be gone for one weekend, and for the next two weekends after that, we would be hosting a short-term mission team. It would be a full three weekends that I would not be around for my family.
Things got tense. So tense, I began to wonder if I made the right decision by agreeing to this interview. I reviewed all the ways I felt God had called us to Santa Ana: the random email, the Santa Ana shirt in the middle of Iwate Prefecture, the 10-10 license plates, the house that became available to us.
I needed another confirmation. As Soo and I drove to the local 100 yen shop, I silently prayed, “God, if this interview is truly of You, I would like to see a car with a 10-10 plate in the parking lot of the 100 yen shop, and I want to be able to take a picture of it– no fleeting glimpses like the first time.”
Soo and I went into the store to look for a specific item. I couldn’t find it, so I went one more round through the store, as if the item would suddenly become available if I kept wandering the aisles.
I still couldn’t find it. Soo and I left the store and headed for our car. And what did we find that had just pulled in and parked next to us?
I chuckled as I ran over to snap this picture. Soo asked me what was going on. I told her what I had silently prayed for, moments earlier– a car with a 10-10 plate in the parking lot of the 100 yen store, stopped long enough for me to take a picture of it.
And here it was.
The tension dissipated. We knew this was something we had to do.
So on Friday of that week, I drove myself three hours to Sendai airport, flew to Tokyo, and boarded a connecting flight to Los Angeles for a whirlwind weekend trip to Santa Ana.
Little did I know that the battle had only just begun.
