When I first dreamed of being a youth pastor, my dream was, well, “out there”. I imagined myself living in LA or some other popular, big area where youth ministry is thriving. I envisioned doing what Sadie Robertson or Emma Mae Jenkins does – influencing the next generation on these huge platforms, huge conventions, and to huge followings. I imagined feeling constantly inspired, encouraged, and on this spiritual high where everyone around me would be just as pumped and on fire as I was.
Perhaps this mindset was simply my ambitious nature. Maybe it was my justification for wanting to “just” be a youth pastor – that if I was going to step into this role, I would have to do it at the “highest” level. Looking back, it might have been my parents who influenced me by saying that I should be aiming higher, striving for more, and making the greatest impact I could have with my life. Regardless of the reason, my vision for what being a youth pastor meant for me looked more or less like celebrity ministry.
However, when I came back from college a few weeks ago for winter break, God hit me in the head with conviction to pay attention to the state of my home church. I think what happened is that after leaving for college, I tried to shove down any memories I had with my church. My home church is a place that fills me with an overwhelming amount of bitterness, resentment, and disappointment. I don’t think there’s a place that has hurt me more than my home church. Over the years I’ve attended, my experience, while having some highs, was mostly filled with the lowest of lows.
Church for me was filled with people living hypocritical and ungodly lives with the outer appearance of faithfulness. Church for me was a place I was ashamed to bring outside friends to because of a fear that the members of my church would exclude and ostracize them to the point where they would never consider church again. Church for me was something I was constantly disappointed with, discouraged by, and a place I would walk in happy and walk out sad.
It’s a miracle that God saved me at my home church and not only that, gave me a clear calling to ministry. Yet, I never believed my ministry calling was for my church. Sure, maybe deep inside, I always knew, but I didn’t want to accept it. I wanted to get as far away as possible. I wanted to experience a thriving ministry for once – a place where people were welcoming, kind, and inclusive. A place that I guess was what I envisioned the church of God to be like.
And I found that at college. And I keep finding it too. I found it at Vintage Malibu near where I go to school at Pepperdine. I found it at National Community Church and Passion City Church in DC when I went abroad this past semester. I found it at this random church my family visited in Canada over break a few years ago. These are the churches I wanted to serve at. This is where I wanted to do ministry.
But God continues to bring me back to my home church in Seattle. Recently, when I’ve been back home for breaks, I’ve been attending a different church within the area. But this specific winter break, I was reading an article on online and I came across this quote:
“Our God is moving in America, and he is doing so through our broken churches, through our broken fellowship with sinful believers. He is moving. For as much brokenness as we find in our daily realms, we will find a longing in the heart of God to redeem, restore, and make flourish.”
Wow. When I read that the first time, it pierced through to the deepest part of my heart. Perhaps the part of my heart has and still aches for my home church. Although it seems obvious, it was only in that moment that I realized God isn’t just moving in the churches I’ve been to abroad. His presence also dwells in my home church – my broken church filled with sinful believers. In that space, God is still moving. And the more brokenness there is, the more God’s heart to redeem, restore, and make flourish exists.
How beautiful.
How extraordinary.
How evident it is of the restorative nature of our God.
I decided to go back, and to give my church a fresh chance with an open heart and mind. So, I went. And to be completely honest, it was a horrible time. I encountered the same people who had hurt me, and I realized that although I went with an open heart, it wasn’t a healed heart.
I realized I need to heal my heart and restore my relationships before I could walk through the doors of my church with a true smile on my face. So, that’s what I have been working on this break and what I plan to continue working on. I’ve been asking to meet with the people at my church who I’ve held so much bitterness and resentment against, and I’ve been going into these meetings with a simple, pure desire to understand and to love.
Let me tell you, it’s been both a challenging and restorative time. For the first time, I feel hope for my church. Because of my seeking to understand and to love these people, I’ve been able to humanize them more and understand why they are the way they are and why they did what they did. I see their heart and their stories that have led them to where they are in a way I was blinded to before.
Yet, amidst the hope, I’ve seen the desperate need for help and change in my church. I see the struggling youth. I see my friends who’ve left the church because of a struggling college ministry. I see my sisters and how they continue moving backwards in their faith because of our church. I see a church, a city, a state that needs Jesus and needs people to bring them Jesus.
For the first time, ministry isn’t just a calling for my future or a career I have in place. No, seeing my church struggling is something that breaks my heart so much to the point that I can’t sleep at night because I’m thinking about it. Thinking about the youth who might leave the church with a broken faith overwhelms me with unbearable sadness, anger, and a desire to drop everything and do what I can to help. Meeting with my college-aged friends who have left my church and are now struggling with their faith saddens and upsets me to the deepest level and sadness and grief. Instead of resting during break, I’ve been collecting research on youth ministry, ministry in general, the history of the Asian American church, and how to bring change and hope to broken ministries.
I think I’ve truly found my calling – the place where my deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet. I hope to serve in broken churches, starting with my own. If I use all my education, knowledge, and anointing to serve abroad where it’s thriving and neglect my hurting church at home, I’ve done something wrong. I no longer dream for celebrity ministry. I dream that I would see God moving in the broken churches of America, beginning with my home church.
Finding Me 