My Call Story

I am about to enter a new phase in my life. I am nervous, terrified, anxious and excited all at the same time. I want to share my journey with people. I want people to know my beliefs, my opinions and hopefully to understand the grace, love and strength that I get through God every single day. To start I want to share my call story. This is why I want to go into ministry, why I have been doing the work I do for the past 8 years and why I am able to get up every single day and "Be Brave" 

I grew up in the United Methodist Church and come from a long line of United Methodist Ministers in several generations. From the time I was a child some of my favorite and most defining moments were at church. I went to Sunday School, Youth Group, and sang in the choirs. I went on trips every summer with the church and attended Senior High Camp for 4 years in a row. The church was very important to me and I am thankful every day that I had those experiences. I never questioned my faith as a child and it was very strong. 

In high school I had the great privilege of attending Senior High Camp at Camp Lakeside. This camp and the people who attended it are still dear to my heart. I grew up there. I made lifelong friends and memories that I will carry with me forever. When I look back on that time, the thing I remember the most is the first time I felt called to ministry. As a child I had always wanted to be a teacher. I would play school with my dolls, write on my white board, make up fake assignments and spend hours "teaching". The summer before my junior year of high school I began to question what type of teacher God wanted me to be. At camp we had reflection time every day. Everyone was to go off on their own and pray, meditate, write in their journal or whatever they felt moved to do. One particular day I was lucky to be the first one to get to the swing by the cross. Camp Lakeside is in western Kansas surrounded by beautiful hills. On one hill looking over the whole camp is a cross. The cross is right behind the chapel and when the sun is just right it is as if you can see God peering in through the windows. On this day I got to sit on the swing. The swing was new this summer and was in the shape of hands, "the hands of God". As I sat there staring at the cross, probably thinking about what was for lunch, I felt something come over me telling me to pay attention. I stared at the cross for what seemed like an eternity and in that moment I felt God telling me to teach, but not in the traditional way I had always thought. I realized in that moment that God wanted me to teach about God. I remember getting up to go eat lunch and not really thinking much about it until later that year when I was given an assignment in English class to write about what we want to do with our lives. I took a huge risk, knowing that I had to read it in front of the class, and wrote about my experience at Camp Lakeside. I shared that I had always wanted to be a teacher and, while sitting in the Hands of God, I realized what type of teacher I wanted to be. 

 As time went on, I didn't think much about that summer. I knew what had happened but I just didn't want to accept what God was telling me to do. I went on to attend Kansas State University. My life changed a lot during those 4 years. My love of church faded and I became very involved in my sorority and very passionate about women's rights. I learned a lot about myself during college and discovered that I wanted to help people- especially women. 

 After college I got a job at Rose Brooks Center, a domestic violence shelter. Rose Brooks Center changed my life. I learned some of the greatest skills a person can acquire while helping people. One of the most valuable skills I learned was how to sit with a person where they are- not to judge, not to give advice but to simply sit. I learned about the injustice in our world and our city. I learned about my skills and abilities to lead a team. I learned so much about myself and I am forever grateful. But along the way the other thing I have learned is that this is not my only life calling. 

I met my husband, Paul, in 2007 and we were married in 2009. Our first child, Henry, was born in the fall of 2012. It was when I became pregnant that I made the decision to become more involved in the church. I realized how important the church was to me growing up and I wanted my children to have the same experiences that I did. I started going every week and eventually joined a Sunday school class. This class has taught me so much about church, the importance of community, God and ministry. I started attending the contemporary service at church and often found myself thinking "I could do what she does. I want to do what she does." I then would laugh at myself and keep going on with my day. 

In 2011 my dad was diagnosed with Renal Cell Carcinoma. The reality of what was happening didn't really hit me until winter 2014. He had been in treatment for 3 years and I had always thought it was something that could be maintained and he would just live with it for the rest of his life. I was naive to say the least. In late January 2014 my dad went into the hospital. He came home on Feb. 3rd. The morning of Feb. 5th he had a bad morning. When we called the Dr. to see what to do he suggested we call in Hospice and for the first time my mom asked "How long?” The Dr. said "days". I was broken. I didn't know what to do or think and I certainly hadn't prepared myself for what would happen that day. After we talked to the Dr. my mom and I told my dad what he had said. I remember my dad just saying "Wow". My mom walked out of the room and my dad looked to the sky and said "Please don't make this last long". I knew he was talking to God. He was asking God to take him and to not let us or him suffer any longer. Hospice came at Noon. At that point they said 5-7 days. By the time they left at 6pm we were told 1-2 days. My dad died at 7:45pm. As soon as the yelling and screaming stopped we all stood around him and I said, “Let’s pray”. The words to the Lords Prayers flowed out of my mouth, I shut his eyes and sat there with him until they took him away. I remember at one point, after Pastor Nanette arrived, she said that he was still with us and that his spirit would be with us forever. Those words have stuck with me since then and I truly believe them. 

Over the next few days I had restless nights and couldn’t comprehend what had happened. When I finally slept, I had dreams that I was a Chaplain and I was sitting with people in their pain and while they suffered the loss of a loved one. I thought it was strange but didn't think much of it considering what we had just been through. The next night I had a dream that I was a minister, this time preaching in front of a congregation. I woke up the next morning and started to think about it. At one point during the day I heard "listen to the dreams, Ali". Of course I thought it was just my mind but I started to wonder if it was more than that. I told my mom and sister about the dreams first. I asked them what they thought about me becoming a minister and I just laughed when I said the words out loud. But once I said the words out loud I couldn't stop saying it. I told my husband and he just smiled. The next person I told about my dreams made it feel more real- my grandfather, a retired United Methodist Minister. I told him that I had these dreams and wanted to know what he thought they meant and if I should consider ministry. His next words are what made me realize that I was being called to ministry. He looked at me, smiled and said "I always told your dad to be a minister". There it was. I knew what God was calling me to do and I was ready to see what this meant. 

Over the next few months I did a lot of research- seminary vs. local pastor. I visited St. Paul School of Theology. I have talked with ministers, my grandfather, my family and friends, yet I still continued to wonder if this is the right thing. A few weeks later I was driving with my son and was thinking about my dad. At that very moment a truck pulling a trailer did a 180 in front of us and I knew we were about to get hit. I closed my eyes, pulled to the side of the road and prepared for the impact- except we didn't get hit. The truck stopped 1 inch in front of my car. I started shaking, pulled back on to the highway and drove down the road. In that moment I heard "Now do you believe me?" and to which I replied "Okay, fine, I believe you" I am starting to recognize the power of prayer and the presence of God in everything that I do. 

I now know what I am meant to do and can't wait to start this journey. 

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." ~ Philippians 4:6