These are the ones who show up in my living room to pray every other Thursday night. These are the ones who don’t read my blog, but we nursed our babies together in the Mum Room and they teach my children in Sunday school and hug me close when I show up. These are the ones in my real, walking-around life. There is no “acting the spiritual hero” here—they are well aware of my achingly normal self.
And Sunday was affirming. I felt profoundly thankful that I am part of a community that celebrates the callings and work of each other. It made me feel like I have their full support, as if I am being sent out for the work of the gospel, as if I’ve got a big family behind me cheering me on, as if I’m not a lone voice but part of a great company.
I’m preaching now because my husband, my family, my friends and my community have identified this as a gift and calling in my life. I do not have a big desire to preach in the abstract. And yet I have had my moments—like when I get on stage and I start to talk and I feel like it’s a conversation, like I see every single face and I sense both God’s pleasure and each soul breathing. Sometimes it’s like I’m on fire, and I want to start laying on hands and praying and prophesying, but I pace and I preach and I read Scripture, like I belong there somehow.
I don’t for one moment want to be a preacher—not really. (And I’m not really good at it, not yet anyway. I have a lot to learn.) Instead, I want to be Sarah. I want to be God’s beloved one, to walk wherever He walks and follow the scent of His presence, discern where He’s moving and move there.
And I want to keep telling stories about all the ways I see and experience and know His goodness in the world. Sometimes that looks like preaching on Sunday morning, sometimes that looks like blogging or writing a book, sometimes that looks like bathing my babies and tucking money under a little girls pillow with a note from the tooth fairy before I crawl back into bed with my husband, and then it’s letting my sick little boy crawl into our bed at 1:30 in the morning and holding him close all night long while he snores in my hair.
It’s all a proclamation.
Sarah Bessey is a wife, mama of three tinies, a writer, popular blogger, and a happy-clappy Jesus lover. She lives in Abbotsford, British Columbia. Her first book, Jesus Feminist (Howard Books), has just been released.
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