“what made you decide to become a minister?”

i have been on the receiving end of this question for over ten years now, and i have spouted off my answer the way a runner trots down a well-worn path, pointing out landmarks (female minister role models, a life-long fascination with mystery) as i (r)amble on. but every once in a while, a wise questioner will cut me off and say,

“no, really. what do YOU get out of having the title of minister, wearing the robe, the instant intimacy, et cetera. what is it about you that needs that?”

divinity school afforded me the kind of introspection required to honestly answer this question. i became more and more comfortable owning not only my purest and most altruistic reasons for entering the ministry, but also my need to be needed, the relief i found in the robe’s instant validation, and the sense of inclusion i felt when others let me in to their deepest experiences of joy and despair. the key, i learned back then, was to own these things and keep them in check. dishonesty about my own fulfillment would result in harm to others.

nobody ever asks me anymore why i went into the ministry. perhaps this is because i have made choices that translate into a vocational hybrid of writing and working floor puzzles, leading study groups and changing diapers, performing the occasional religious ritual and the kids’ nightly bedtime rituals. but the irony is that now that so little of my time is spent wearing a robe, being needed by other adults, and treading lightly on the sacred ground of others’ intimate affairs, some of my more base reasons for entering the ministry are more obvious to me than they ever have been before.

reorienting myself to the very different kind of validation and intimacy that comes with motherhood is a continuous challenge for me. sometimes i feel as if there is a vacuum (or perhaps a shark steam mop) where my healthy ego used to be, and a tinge a loneliness that was formerly squelched by the stream of college students making their way to my college chaplaincy office.

but i am still grateful for the two wise questioners in my life, the little boys who don’t care at all about my female minister role models or my fascination with mystery. they don’t care whether i’m wearing clergy garments or even undergarments. they love me just the same.

the key now is for me to learn to follow their lead.