The Decision
Stories
56 Stories For Preaching
The decision was a difficult one to make. Joe and Marilyn had
bought the small farm just six weeks after their marriage, almost
12 years before. And now, in their mid-thirties, Joe had felt the
call to the pastoral ministry and they were faced with the
decision of selling the farm so Joe could attend a distant
seminary.
"I need the guidance of God," Joe said to his pastor, "but I
don't know how to seek it. I feel I am being led into the
ministry, but I just don't feel right about selling the farm."
"God speaks to each of us in a different manner," said the
pastor, "Samuel and David had a prophet, Daniel had his dreams,
Peter had a vision, Elijah heard a still, small voice and others
spoke to angels. God uses many methods of communication, but be
assured that he will guide you if you keep your heart open to his
voice."
The farm was adjacent to a busy highway, and Marilyn
occasionally fed the homeless nomads who wandered up to their
kitchen door. One day a middle-aged man came by and offered to
repair a fence in exchange for a meal. After the work was
completed and the dinner eaten, the couple sat on the porch
chatting with the friendly stranger. Joe felt a warm comfort in
speaking with the man and he told him of his call to ministry and
of his reluctance to leave the farm.
The man looked steadily at Joe as he said, "I've worked on
many farms and I love the land, the animals, and the freedom that
a farm represents, but I would think that the ministry is
somewhat similar to farming. Instead of looking after land,
crops, and animals, you would be a shepherd of people; aiding
them in their needs and assisting them in their search
for truth, light, and love. Who knows," he smiled, "someday you
may even choose a ministry to the homeless. There are quite a few
of us wandering around out there, you know."
"Yes," Joe was apologetic, "I guess I haven't given the
problem enough consideration."
"In fact," the stranger continued, "with minor changes, this
farm would be an ideal place for the homeless to find their way
back into the mainstream of life."
"I don't understand," said Joe, "how could we do that?"
"Oh, I'm sure the two of you would work that out when the time
comes," the stranger said, rising from his chair. "I must go now.
Thank you both for your hospitality. I wish you the best in
whatever you choose. I'm sure you will make the right decision."
Long after the stranger had gone, the couple sat on the porch,
thinking of the man and his words. Finally Joe said, "Marilyn, I
think we have our answer."
"I think so, too. I will begin packing tomorrow while you
write your letter of acceptance to the seminary. Will you also
talk to the real estate agent?"
"Yes, but not about selling the farm. Perhaps we'll just lease
it until I finish seminary. I have a feeling we may need it
someday -- perhaps as a hospice for the homeless."
bought the small farm just six weeks after their marriage, almost
12 years before. And now, in their mid-thirties, Joe had felt the
call to the pastoral ministry and they were faced with the
decision of selling the farm so Joe could attend a distant
seminary.
"I need the guidance of God," Joe said to his pastor, "but I
don't know how to seek it. I feel I am being led into the
ministry, but I just don't feel right about selling the farm."
"God speaks to each of us in a different manner," said the
pastor, "Samuel and David had a prophet, Daniel had his dreams,
Peter had a vision, Elijah heard a still, small voice and others
spoke to angels. God uses many methods of communication, but be
assured that he will guide you if you keep your heart open to his
voice."
The farm was adjacent to a busy highway, and Marilyn
occasionally fed the homeless nomads who wandered up to their
kitchen door. One day a middle-aged man came by and offered to
repair a fence in exchange for a meal. After the work was
completed and the dinner eaten, the couple sat on the porch
chatting with the friendly stranger. Joe felt a warm comfort in
speaking with the man and he told him of his call to ministry and
of his reluctance to leave the farm.
The man looked steadily at Joe as he said, "I've worked on
many farms and I love the land, the animals, and the freedom that
a farm represents, but I would think that the ministry is
somewhat similar to farming. Instead of looking after land,
crops, and animals, you would be a shepherd of people; aiding
them in their needs and assisting them in their search
for truth, light, and love. Who knows," he smiled, "someday you
may even choose a ministry to the homeless. There are quite a few
of us wandering around out there, you know."
"Yes," Joe was apologetic, "I guess I haven't given the
problem enough consideration."
"In fact," the stranger continued, "with minor changes, this
farm would be an ideal place for the homeless to find their way
back into the mainstream of life."
"I don't understand," said Joe, "how could we do that?"
"Oh, I'm sure the two of you would work that out when the time
comes," the stranger said, rising from his chair. "I must go now.
Thank you both for your hospitality. I wish you the best in
whatever you choose. I'm sure you will make the right decision."
Long after the stranger had gone, the couple sat on the porch,
thinking of the man and his words. Finally Joe said, "Marilyn, I
think we have our answer."
"I think so, too. I will begin packing tomorrow while you
write your letter of acceptance to the seminary. Will you also
talk to the real estate agent?"
"Yes, but not about selling the farm. Perhaps we'll just lease
it until I finish seminary. I have a feeling we may need it
someday -- perhaps as a hospice for the homeless."
