Make Your Calling Sure
At seventeen, I thought I wanted to be a pastor. In those days, people called you a “preacher boy.” I imagined a life filled with Bible studies, discipleship, evangelism, youth camps, fellowship, and preaching—a lot of happy things. And the truth is, after forty-two years of pastoring, there have been many of those joys, and for that I am deeply grateful.
What I did not see at seventeen was the other side of the calling—the back side, the darker side of pastoral ministry. The month before I was ordained, I asked a man who had been in ministry for some time, “What do I need to do this job?” His simple reply was, “Get some tough hide.” I really should have asked more men who had actually been doing it for a while.
In fact, I recommend that kind of conversation to anyone considering any vocation. Sit down with people who have lived it and ask honest questions:
What do you like about your work, and what do you not like?
What did you expect it to be like when you started?
What has surprised you?
And always end with this one: What should I be asking that I’m not asking?
I remember one pastor telling me, “If you can do anything else, then do that.” At the time, the comment rolled right off me. Now I understand exactly what he meant. To be truly called to something is to accept the whole thing, not just the parts you admire. As Willie Nelson once said, “To get the dimple, you have to marry the whole girl.” Callings work the same way.
Many people begin, and many quit. Some wanted one side of the calling but were unprepared—or unwilling—for the other. Garrison Keillor once joked in a routine called The Young Lutheran’s Guide to the Orchestra, “I was trying to figure out whether I was musically talented or just talented compared to other Lutherans.” That line always makes me smile, but it also makes a serious point: comparison and early success can hide the deeper realities of a vocation.
Recently, I’ve been listening again to one of my favorite country singers, Merle Haggard, and I watched an interview where he was asked what advice he would give someone considering a career like his. His answer was blunt: “Don’t do it. But if you must do it, be aware that it’s not what you think it is.” He went on to describe his life as “a 35-year bus ride”—and he said that in 1996. He toured for twenty more years. Along the way were five marriages.
There are people in every field who have “been there and done that.” They know what newcomers cannot yet see: that most callings are different from what we imagine, and almost always harder than we expect. There are real costs as well as real rewards, and both must be weighed carefully. The goal is not simply to start well but to finish with as few regrets as possible.
A calling involves more than gifts, talents, skills, or even desire. The only safe way forward is to ask hard questions: If I do this, will I be faithful to God? Will I glorify Him regardless of the difficulty? Can I keep all my other obligations as a Christian and still do this well? If the answer is no, then wisdom says: do something else.