Inside Outside

The convention center lobby was packed with pastors of all shapes and sizes, chatting with each other as they waited for the next session to start. There were the more traditional ones in their suit coats and ties. The radicals were sporting bleached hair, wallet chains, and heavy metal t-shirts. The hipsters had their crisply sculpted goatees, polo shirts, and leather computer bags. And you could find every type in between. National leadership conferences like this one that featured New York Times best-selling authors and mega-church giants as speakers crossed denominational lines and drew clergy from every corner of the country.

This was the third year Tim had made the trek to Atlanta from Texas to soak in the latest ideas about church leadership and ministry strategies. With his pen and notebook at the ready, he reveled in each session, copying down as much as he could from every speaker, hoping to find a nugget or two that would help propel his ministry to the next level.

Standing in a corner of the hall, he tucked the notes he’d taken in his last session neatly in his backpack to be reviewed and filed once he got home. Even if he never looked at them again, something about having the notes made him feel like he’d accomplished something–a feeling he enjoyed.

Glancing up, through the blur of conference attendees, Tim’s eyes grew wide and his breath caught in his chest. Across the lobby, sitting at a small table, was his favorite speaker from the week. Tim had been so moved by the pastor’s talk yesterday, he’d spent the night Googling sermons and reading as much as he could about the man’s church.

In a panic, keeping his eyes on the man, Tim fumbled through his backpack until his hand found his cell phone. Pulling it out, he dialed his wife.

“Hey, Babe,” Abby answered.

“Babe, you’re not going to believe this,” Tim frantically whispered in reply, hoping the other conference attendees wouldn’t hear.

“What’s that?”

“Paul Magister is sitting right in front of me. Like, Babe. He’s right there.” Tim’s mouth was suddenly dry. He looked left and right for a water fountain, but he didn’t see one.

“Is that the guy you were telling me about last night?”

Putting his bag on the floor, he unzipped the front pocket and took his water bottle out while he talked. “He talked about the church being a force for good and reaching the city for Jesus. I told you about that sermon he gave. The one about the church being a force for justice and love.” He was gushing, which was confusing to him because he never gushed.

“You said you were really into him.”

He took a sip of water, but it didn’t seem to help. “And now he’s just sitting there. I mean, I feel like I’m seeing a unicorn or something.”

“Babe, this is your chance. Go introduce yourself.”

Tim looked down, and a wave of nausea washed over him. “I don’t know.”

He could hear her smile through the phone. “What’s he doing?”

He could feel his armpits starting to sweat. “He’s working on his laptop.”

“So. What are you waiting for?”

Tim risked a glance at the pastor again and tried to will himself to stop sweating. It didn’t work. “He’s probably busy,” he said into the phone.

“Babe,” Abby laughed. “When else is this going to happen? Go and talk to him.”

“I don’t know. What if he’s doing something really important?” Tim could see he clearly was not.

“Then he’ll say hello and go back to work.”

Say hello? The idea that someone like Tim would just walk up to this amazing leader and say hello felt baffling to Tim. It was like telling him to “just fly.” He laughed to himself and replied, “I just. I’m sorry, Babe. I don’t think--”

“Tim Lystra,” she used her stern voice, “You went to that conference to make connections. So, go and connect.”

Tim grumbled internally. Now that she’d said that, if he didn’t, she’d give him the speech – the one she gave him whenever his low opinion of himself got in the way of him accomplishing something. “Yeah. Okay,” he said, watching the man sip coffee from a Styrofoam cup.

“Call me back when you’re done, okay? I want to hear how it goes.” Not waiting for his reply, she said, “I love you. You’ve got this.” And then she hung up.

Putting his phone in his pocket and closing his eyes, Tim took some deep breaths to try and get a hold of his nerves, then he prayed, “If I’m not supposed to talk to him, make him get up to go to the next break out session before I get there.”

Paul was still typing when Tim opened his eyes. Swallowing the fear building in his chest, he crossed the room with purpose, knowing that if he hesitated, he would chicken out, but hoping with each step that the man would get up and walk away.

No such luck.

“Um. Excuse me?” Tim said. “I’m sorry to bother you. I just, well...” Feeling his wife’s encouragement in his head, he cleared his throat and continued, “I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed your talk yesterday.”

Looking up from his laptop, Paul made eye contact and smiled, “Well, thank you.” Extending his hand, he said, “I’m Paul.”

“Oh. I’m, um. I’m Tim,” Tim mumbled with surprise, wiping his sweaty hand on his jeans before returning the gesture. “Tim Lystra. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Paul glanced back at his laptop.

Tim took a step back and started to walk away, thinking the interaction had run its course, and proud of himself for crossing the room; but then Paul closed his laptop and asked, “So, Tim. Are you in the ministry?”

Tim’s heart sank in his chest. Now he was going to have to have an actual conversation. If he’d just moved faster, he could have satisfied Abby’s prodding and avoided saying something stupid. A major gaffe was just a matter of time.

“Yeah. I am. I work for a college ministry right now, but I’m almost done with seminary. I’ll graduate in two months, and then, I don’t know, I’m praying about maybe trying something new,” Tim said, looking down at his shoes.

“You want to take a seat?” Paul asked, motioning to the chair across from him.

Tim absolutely did not want to take a seat.

“Oh. Um. Yeah,” Tim said with wide eyes. “I’d love to,” he pulled out the chair and took a seat.

Paul leaned back and said, “College is a really important time of life. I did youth ministry for a while. Not the same, but really similar.”

“I remember. I mean. I listened to a couple of your sermons last night.” Tim worried that now he sounded like a stalker. He made a mental note that, under no circumstances should he quote Paul to Paul because that would absolutely cross the line from student to stalker-who-might-follow-you-home-to-murder-you.

Paul laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “I apologize in advance for anything thing that might have offended you.”

“Oh, no. I loved it. I thought everything was really inspiring. Like your stories about the church you’re leading now. Just the way you described working with all kinds of different people in the city? And how you…um. I mean, you know.”

Paul nodded. “I’d love to hear what God used to move you.”

“Well, like, how you talked about the church being a place of hope for your community? And about being a light in a dark place? Like how you said, ‘The church needs to be the street light that makes people lost at night feel seen and safe.’ That was all really cool.”

Dang it. Tim kicked himself internally for engaging stalker mode. And, really cool? What was he? Some high school basketball player fawning over an NBA star. This was a bad idea.

“Working in Baltimore is a lot different than working in a college town.” Paul nodded. “What university are you at?”

“Oh, um. Baylor? In Waco? Waco, Texas?” Tim wondered how many other location details would dribble out of his mouth before he could turn the spout off.

“Baltimore is nothing like Baylor.” Paul shook his head and leaned forward. “Baltimore’s a dark place, which is a great place to be in ministry because we really get to be a city on the hill.”

Tim thought that since he’d already crossed into stalker-quoting territory, he might as well go full obsessed-nerd. “It’s like you said yesterday during your talk, ‘In the city, pastors are the front lines of love–not just providing pastoral care, but demonstrating to the world what real love is through acts of service that bring justice. We are on an adventure with God.’ I mean, that sounds amazing. It’s like, like, you are doing work right out of the book of Acts or something.”

Paul smiled. “Look, it isn’t always easy, but when you are bringing light into dark places, you get to see the Lord move in powerful ways. It’s amazing when the Spirit moves and the church grows.”

“I love that. I want that.”

Feeling he’d shared too much, Tim immediately looked around, hoping desperately for someone to interrupt them.

“You said you were at Baylor? I think I was talking to someone else from Baylor earlier,” Paul said, looking off as he tried to remember.

Praising Jesus for the topic change, Tim smiled and said, “That was probably Jessie. He’s the college pastor I serve under. He’s really great. We come to this every year.”

“Right. Right.” Nodding, Paul confirmed, “Jessie. He gave a talk yesterday, too”

“He was on the panel for rapidly growing ministries. He was presenting how we’ve capitalized on our culture to intensify moments of growth.” Tim felt a wave of relief to talk about something besides himself.

Paul crossed his arms across his chest. Taking a fresh look at Tim, he said, “Didn’t he say you’ve tripled in size in a year?”

“Well, sort of. I mean, we went from thirty students to over a thousand in three years.”

“That’s really something. How big is your team?” Paul asked, raising his eyebrows.

Dang it. Tim could feel the conversation turning back to him.

“It’s just me and Jessie,” he said with a shrug. “You know, Jessie’s a really strong leader, so we don’t really need anyone else.”

Paul leaned forward and put his arms on the table. “The two of you manage a thousand-person ministry?”

Tim was suddenly hot. Could Paul see him sweating? “I mean, it’s not like what you are doing in Baltimore. We get all kinds of volunteers who want to help.

“Look, just two of you on staff? That’s pretty impressive.”

“College students have a lot of free time.”

“What areas of the ministry do you cover?”

The nervous churn in Tim’s stomach made him wish he’d chosen to send an email instead of sitting down. This was a disaster. Maybe if he could just focus the conversation on Jessie, he would survive this. “Well. So, Jessie handles all the teaching and preaching, and he comes up with the vision, and manages our leadership team, and makes sure we stay focused. Oh, and he does all the pastoral counseling.” Avoiding eye contact, he added, “And I take care of the other stuff.”

“What’s the other stuff?” Paul asked with a grin.

A new knot turned in Tim’s stomach. “Oh. Sorry. So. I, um. I run the events, and I lead the small groups, and I oversee the different ministry teams we have going. Stuff like that.”

“For a ministry of a thousand students, that’s a big job.”

Tim shrugged again. He didn’t know what he’d wanted from the conversation, but this wasn’t it. “I don’t know. It’s fun. And it keeps us busy. But it’s nothing like what you’re doing. I bet working in the city opens up a ton of ministry opportunities.”

“How long have you been there?”

Tim hated that Paul didn’t take the bait.

“Like, three years. I started when I started seminary.”

Paul was quiet for a minute. He stared at Tim, which made Tim intensely uncomfortable. After Tim fidgeted for a few seconds, Paul asked, “What’s your calling, Tim?”

Tim looked around for an excuse to leave. Any excuse would do, but he came up short.

“I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

“I mean, what has the Holy Spirit called you to be? Are you a preacher? Are you a teacher?”

Tim’s insides burst with laughter at the idea of him preaching.

“Oh. Um. I like doing behind-the-scenes stuff more.”

“What’s your Enneagram number?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what that is?”

“Myers-Briggs?”

Tim shrugged and shook his head no. Was he failing some kind of test? He hated failing tests.

“Clifton Strengths Finder?”

“I’m really sorry. I don’t know any of these. There’s nothing really special about me. I just work hard.” Surely that would satisfy Paul’s curiosity.

“We’ll have to get you to take at least the Enneagram and Strengths Finder. What about APEST?”

“APEST?” Tim bit the inside of his lip, wondering how many more tests he’d fail before the conversation ended.

“Apostle, Prophet, Evangelist, Shepherd, Teacher. What are your top two?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.” Tim squirmed, trying not to look down because he’d been looking down so much. Instead, he looked up, and then immediately realized how awkward that was, so he looked down again, and then back up.

Paul cocked his head like he was studying Tim. “Well, if you’re not looking to preach, then you aren’t a teacher. And if you aren’t doing the pastoral care, you aren’t a shepherd. And you don’t sound like a prophet.”

Tim laughed uncomfortably. No way he would dare to call himself a prophet. Caring for others is something he was passionate about, as long as he didn’t have to do hospital visits. He considered offering this bit of information and then decided not to, as it might lead to a deeper examination of his passions.

“I’m betting you’re an apostle.” Paul nodded at his own conclusion. “You start a lot of new ministries. Right?”

Again, not where Tim wanted the conversation to go. “I guess so. Jessie and I do it together. I mean, we’ve been growing so fast, there was a lot to do, so we kind of had to.”

Paul pulled his wallet from his back pocket, took out two business cards, and passed them to Tim. “Look, here’s my card. Give me your number, too.”

Tim took the card and, with both eyes fixed on it, he held it as if it was a sandwich and he was starving. Realizing he’d stopped talking, his mind raced back into the present. “Oh, um. Sure,” Tim said, as he scribbled his name and phone on the back of one of the cards and handed it back to Paul.

“I know you are pretty established where you are,” Paul said, glancing at the number and sticking it in his wallet. “But I could really use a guy like you on my staff.”

Tim let out a nervous laugh. “Oh. Wow. I, um. I don’t know. I mean. Abby - that’s my wife - we’ve talked about moving someday, and her parents are just north of Baltimore, but we’ve never really talked about where or when.”

Paul started packing up his things. “What you are doing in college ministry, setting kids up for their futures, is really important. At the same time, Baltimore needs people like you, Tim.” He stopped gathering his things and looked Tim straight in the eyes. “We need people who can bring light into dark places, build the church, and bring change. You know what they say, ‘The church is the hope of the world.'”

Tim’s heart was racing. “Thank you. I’m, um. I’m really honored.”

“Look, pray about it. I’ll give you a call in a few days,” Paul said, as he stood to leave.

“Okay. I will,” Tim said, also standing, feeling like if he continued to sit, it would be weird.

“Listen, there’s a church in Baltimore that needs you, Tim. Pray about it. I’m sure you’ll feel called.”