The journey towards humility can be excruciating.
Many martial-arts films feature a student seeking to learn from a master, who won’t teach anything until the potential student first demonstrates humility, patience, and obedience; only then will the master work to develop the student’s full potential. Think Daniel-san waxing Mr. Miyagi’s cars, or Grasshopper waiting outside the Shaolin Temple, sweeping the floors and waiting in the rain before the monks would consider letting him in.
Or, think Moses being a fugitive and a shepherd for forty years before God called him to lead millions out of Egypt.
I began my ministry career as the administrative assistant to Pastor Ed, who was in charge of spiritual care and formation at our church. He had organized a Friday night Bible study and prayer gathering in which we’d take a look at what the Scriptures say about prayer and the gifts of the Holy Spirit, then put into practice what we had learned. This prayer meeting was just what I needed at the time: I often thought I was crazy for hearing voices and having dreams that would later come true, but I’d learn that these sorts of things happened in the Bible.
This may have been a little too out-there for our evangelical church at the time, but our senior pastor had given us his blessing to explore this uncharted territory, as the leaders of the prayer ministry were committed to sound biblical teaching: if a style of prayer wasn’t found in the Bible, we would reject it, but if it was described in the Scriptures, we’d embrace it. One example is the gift of prophecy, which, according to 1 Corinthians 14:3, is meant to strengthen, encourage, and comfort others for the edification of the church (v. 4). It is not meant to be used selfishly, to glorify oneself, nor is it the same as foretelling someone’s future. That would be more akin to fortune-telling, which is forbidden in Deuteronomy 18:10.
One night, after studying the passage from 1 Corinthians at our Friday gathering, one of our group leaders started giving words of encouragement to show what prophesying looks like, one person at a time.
When he came to me, he smiled and said, “Stephen, I see the word ‘pastor’ all over you.”
It didn’t blow me away or anything– it had been over two years since I first sensed the call to become a pastor someday, so this was not a surprising revelation. Still, it was a nice confirmation, and it did strengthen, encourage, and comfort me, assuring me that was on the right track.
The following Monday, Pastor Ed asked me what I thought of the encouraging word I had received on Friday night. I nonchalantly replied that I thought it was cool. He seemed a bit surprised at my lack of excitement over it and queried, “So do you feel called to be a pastor? Is that something you’d be open to?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ve felt called since that one night, two years ago, when I heard a voice telling me to become a pastor.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I wrote about it in the very first email I sent you, when we were first introduced to one another. Did you read it?”
Apparently, he missed that part, but I can’t blame him: that email, which contained my story up until the end of my trip to Bangkok, was eleven pages long when printed out.
In any case, Ed seemed pleased with this new development. He might have thought I was planning to resume my career in film someday, but now that he knew of my calling to ministry, he resolved to take me under his wing and be more intentional about training me for ministry. “And someday,” he promised, “we’ll get you credentialed by our denomination.”
From that day forward, I became the padawan learner to Ed’s Jedi Master. He took me with him on visits so I could observe. He let me sit in with him when he’d meet with people for counseling or prayer. He’d drop nuggets of wisdom at every opportunity, whether we were chatting in our offices or going out for lunch together. I was learning a lot.
Ed eventually started releasing me to do ministry on my own, empowering me to meet with people one-on-one. He’d make himself available to me if I ever needed help, but otherwise, he trusted me enough to be hands-off for the most part.
In the fall of 2007, Ed promoted me from administrative assistant to director of prayer ministries, complete with a formal commissioning service. It was a proud moment, but more than that, it made me thankful to be on the trajectory that I felt called to be on. Being the director of prayer ministries meant that I would now join the leadership of the prayer ministry and have a voice on the council. This role would be the last stop before getting promoted to pastor.
But God still had plenty of work to do on me.
He’d continue to chip away at my pride.
There were now seven members of the leadership team, but the original four held the most sway. It didn’t take long for me to feel sidelined, as though the original leaders had remembered my humble beginnings and wouldn’t see me as being any more than Ed’s secretary. There was one moment when the other six leaders were huddled around someone to pray for– I had not been invited to join them. I was busy stacking chairs after the prayer meeting when one of the leaders called out my name and waved for me to run over.
I left my stack of chairs and ran over to them, excited that I was invited off of the bench and onto the field. I was ready to pray.
One leader had a different idea. She leaned over and whispered to me, “Could you get us more Kleenex?” The woman they were praying for was weeping and needed more facial tissues to soak up her tears.
That’s right: the rest of the prayer team leaders had waved me over just to send me to the custodian’s closet.
Resentment kicked in again, and for the next six months, I considered my title to be a token one. My main duties at the Friday night prayer meeting were to set up about seventy chairs, prepare enough boxes of Kleenex for each prayer team, then stack the chairs and roll them away at the end of the meeting. “Director of prayer ministries?” I’d mutter in silent bitterness. “I’m more like director of chair-stacking. That’s what I am.”
God was teaching me another lesson: I’d have to learn to be faithful with a little before He’d entrust me with a lot (Luke 16:10)
Then came Easter Sunday, 2008.
I was seated for one of the services when I glimpsed a member of the worship team singing passionately with arms outstretched and fists clenched, as if she were trying to break free of unseen shackles. I got this impression:
“Jesus came to set people free, but so many people are still in bondage and don’t even know it.”
I began to weep– unusual for me, as I don’t shed tears that easily. That’s when I got another impression:
“I want to set people free.”
It brought to mind the words of Isaiah 61:
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. (Isaiah 61:1-3 NIV)
Though it was a powerful personal moment during a typical Easter service, I didn’t know what to do with it, and I had no idea that God was setting me up for something.
A day or two later, I had a dream in which I was approached by two individuals, and when I looked one of them in the eye, I could tell that something was wrong. In this dream, a demon manifested in the person I was making eye contact with and quickly fled. I heard a voice in my dream saying, “Look them in the eye and you’ll know.”
I woke up– it was probably a Wednesday morning– and after a few moments reviewing the dream, thoughts of things I had to do at work flooded my thoughts and distracted me from further reflection. I was stressed out, and I felt that maybe I needed more quiet time with God. It had been nearly two years since the last time I’d gone to Balboa for a personal retreat, so I made plans to do another one on that Friday.
I spent Friday morning running errands, and before I knew it, it was 10:40AM. Balboa was a half-hour drive away, and since I couldn’t stay there past 11:45AM, I briefly considered abandoning my plans to go. I prayed and asked God what to do, and I got the impression that He was telling me to go to the beach.
As I drove towards the freeway, I saw traffic at a crawl and thought, “by the time I get to the beach, I’ll only have a few minutes to pray,” but since I had the impression that God wanted me to go, I went anyway. I made my way down the peninsula with the intention of going to the Balboa Pier, but I made a wrong turn and ended up at the Newport Pier instead.
Claiming a vacant bench on the pier, I began to soak in the beauty unveiling before me: Parents and children having fun on the beach. Surfers commandeering the rolling waves. Rays of sunlight piercing through clouds and rippling across the waters. Now, I don’t know what it is about me having spiritual experiences at the beach, but I’m thinking that it’s because the ocean humbles us and reminds us of how small we are and how grand the Creator of the seas– the air, the land, the Universe– must be.
As I soaked it all in, I remembered how I had asked God to show me sea lions and dolphins the last two times I prayed at the beach, and how He had answered my prayers each time. I wanted to ask God to show me more, but quickly quashed that desire.
The words, “Why aren’t you asking?” interrupted my thoughts.
“I don’t want to ask You for too much. I’m content with what You’ve given me.”
“But it’s all right to ask, as long as you’re asking for good things.” I was reminded of the following passage:
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! (Matt. 7:7-11 NIV)
I thought, “All right, I’ll ask God if I could see more animals today… But it doesn’t have to be sea lions or dolphins– I’ll be happy to see any animal.” Before I could even finish that thought, a seagull swooped past me from behind and nearly grazed my head. This taught me to pray and ask for specific things, so I asked if God would show me something unique in the water.
The response I got: “Wait until you see what I have in store for you today.”
I spent the next twenty minutes praying for people I knew, and I was getting clear impressions of how I should be praying for them. I even got a word of encouragement for someone, and when I shared it with her later, she told me how that word fit exactly what she was going through that week.
Something on the horizon caught my eye.
I leveled my gaze and caught a dolphin’s fin breaking the surface. I smiled, recalling the experience I had at Balboa almost two years prior. Then, more fins broke the surface– it was an entire pod of dolphins swimming towards the pier. I thanked God for allowing me to witness this moment, but I elected to remain seated, determined to continue praying the way I had been for the past twenty minutes. As I tried to continue praying, I heard the crowd around me marveling at the sight of the dolphins, and I desperately wanted to get out of my seat and get a closer look. After resisting this urge for a moment, I finally realized that by being legalistic, I was going to miss out on something that God was doing.
I bolted from the bench and hastened to the edge of the pier, where the pod of dolphins was crossing from one side to the other. When a young boy shouted, “Look! Dolphins!” a nearby fisherman scoffed and muttered, “Some kid thinks they’re seeing dolphins.” His friend whirled around, glimpsed the dolphins, and exclaimed, “They’re right there!” The dolphins passed the pier and went over to the side where all the surfers were, and some of them even started frolicking with the surfers, leaping into the air as if they were performing at a show, launching their streamlined torsos clear out of the water. A majestic sight, a showcase of God’s creation.
I was in awe. The first time I went to the beach to pray, I had seen sea lions. The second time I went, I saw dolphins swimming by, and this time, not only did I see dolphins, but I watched them perform tricks you’d usually only see at a marine park, but in their natural habitat!
I remembered the impression I had received earlier: “Wait until you see what I have in store for you today.”
I was so thankful that God, the Creator of everything before my eyes and beyond, would answer my prayers, and in ways far surpassing my expectations.
As I leaned against the gnarled railing, admiring the spectacle unfolding before me, I gazed down at the water and noticed my shadow: because of the position of the sun shining behind me, the rays of light hit the water a certain way, and it looked like rays of light were radiating from my shadow. The symbolism humbled me: Almighty God, the Creator of all, allowed me the privilege of serving Him and let His light radiate through me, a person who is as insignificant and fleeting as a shadow.
A thought pressed into my mind: “Everything that has ever happened to you over the course of your lifetime has been to prepare you for this.” I still had no idea what God would have in store for me that day.
But I’d find out soon enough. Another dream was about to come true.
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