By Michele Shadden, Ministry INtern at Peacehaven Baptist, Winston-Salem and Seminary Student at Good Theological, Salisbury, NC. As I enter the classroom, if I just sit still for a moment, the sky opens up and the light of Jesus surrounds me. I feel the warmth, I know it is the light of my Lord. I cannot believe I am graced to be in such a place and time that I can be fed by the Spirit and nurtured by the love of my Maker. Then the lecture starts and that interesting mix of academic importance swirls in with the Spirit. They are inseparable. I get into trouble when I think of them as a dichotomy. The time goes very fast here; I have just turned around and the Spring semester of my second year begins in January. I often think, “You, God, want me to do what …? Preach? Minister? And I laugh. I would much rather dig deep in theological academics like I do on a cold winter’s day. Buried under mountains of blankets, warm, reading, content, cozy …Real world and real life … a Shepherd to sheep? I can barely keep up with myself … But, God, the world is spinning out of control. I need Pentecost every day to navigate true north in Your will. I need Pentecost to keep reminding me that You know what you are doing, and yes, You Called me. I need Pentecost to keep me focused on Your mission, so with the mighty heat of your Presence, I am blinded to distractions. I need Pentecost so that I am fired with courage. I need Pentecost so that I will not faint under the weight of my own worries and obsessions and cares of the world. I need Pentecost to know that this world propelled by evil will not spin out of control. Pentecost gives me hope, Lord, that no matter how much the world spins out of control, You are here. So, after three short semesters, summer school and a January intensive, the blessing of transformation is here. God, it occurred to me that I am not the same person now that I was when I walked through the door of Hood in the Fall Semester of 2017. Then, I was so grateful to be at Hood and felt your grace raining down upon me. Now, I am bathed in your grace, and something else… I had this image of a small girl looking down at her new dress. Young and new in the Lord. That is me. Transformed by your Grace and Love. Who, me? From such an angry, heartbroken, bitter woman. Transformed. Ironically, the transformation is I have come home, to your home, where all along I was meant to be. Peace, at home, finally. Breathe… Breathe… Breathe… I am at home. Pentecost, at Advent? But was not the same thing happening? Birth. I thought going to seminary was the end of a road. I rationalized away the Call for years. Finally, I decided I did not want to meet my Maker without seminary. I came to seminary not knowing what to expect. After all, I was in seminary because I was afraid not to be. (How does someone go to Seminary and not be transformed?) I just did not expect this transformation to be so quiet and subtle. All transformation is not that way. As I write this, I feel that there is an irony here. I just described needing fiery Pentecost to keep me on track and talking about my transformation as quiet and subtle. I think I could say that God’s work is often paradoxical. At least it was for me in this situation. Pentecost, at Advent? But was not the same thing happening? Birth.
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