A quiet tug begins the call—
a small stirring in the heart,
a whisper that stays,
a gentle pull toward something holy.
The apostles once asked the community
to choose seven good men—
men filled with the Spirit,
men ready to serve.
And somehow, in God’s own way,
my call grew in that same pattern.
Through people who noticed something in me
before I ever noticed it in myself.
Through moments of helping the poor,
visiting the sick,
standing beside those who felt unseen.
Through a growing desire
not just to hear God’s Word,
but to live it
and share it.
I never thought I was smart enough,
holy enough,
or worthy enough to be a deacon.
I always feared I’d be asked to step down.
But God—
God asked me to step up.
Then came the laying on of hands—
that ancient sign,
that quiet blessing,
that moment when I knew
I was joining a long line of servants.
And the Word of God continued to spread.
That is the heart of the diaconate:
when a deacon serves, the Word spreads.
When he teaches, the Word spreads.
When he prays with the grieving,
or lifts up the needs of the people,
or simply shows up with love—
the Word spreads.
And that is my hope:
that through my hands,
my voice,
and my presence,
God’s Word keeps finding new places
to take root.
Prayer
Lord,
Let my heart stay open to Your call.
Fill my hands with gentleness and strength.
Let my steps move toward those who feel unseen.
Let my voice carry Your comfort and Your truth.
Shape my service with simple, steady love.
Plant Your Word wherever You send me.
And let Your Spirit guide every act of my day.
Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment