I received my call to ministry when I was 16 years old. There was no burning bush aflame before me, just a sense of being called by God to ordination. So, when people asked what I was going to do following high school, I was honest; “I’m becoming a priest”, I said.

I got all sorts of responses. Some positive, some negative. The most upsetting was those who assumed that I was only becoming a priest because my father was one. People would quip that I was going into the family business.  These comments used to anger me greatly. I was adamant that my call to ministry was mine alone, that it had no bearing on my father. Our individual calls to ministry were utterly separate.

One instance changed my view of things.

I was graced to begin ministry in the very church where I grew up. In fact, it was the community out of which my own father had received his call to ministry. One of my tasks was to visit a weekly small group. It was a group of elderly gentleman who had been meeting for decades. Each week, over the span of 2 years, I joined this group for a time of prayer and communion. 

On one occasion, Art, the self-appointed record-keeper, handed me a piece of paper. As I unfolded the paper, and read the long-faded printing, Art described what I was reading. “Kyle, on this day, 16 years ago, this group surrounded your father as he was discerning his call to ministry. It is our delight to now share ministry with you.”  Art’s paper revealed a deep truth; We cannot remove ourselves from what God has done in the past.

What was God up to before you stepped onto the scene? How did God’s hand impact your life before you were even aware of it?  More importantly, who were the people whom God used to bring you to where you are today? 

The book of Exodus opens with the Egyptian King ordering the death of all Israel’s male children. God’s response isn’t the expected response of human-based power. God didn’t secure redemption by raising an army of soldiers, strong and muscular. God works through a fellowship of women focused on life not death, birth not destruction. Through the faithfulness of midwives, God secures the life and future of Israel.

These midwives, often skipped over as we race to Moses’ birth, are instrumental to God’s redemptive plan. It is their work that paves the way for Moses. It is only because they defied the King that Moses was allowed to live, and thereby become they person God called him to be. Moses can only accept his calling because the midwives were faithful to theirs. Moses’ ministry is but an extension of theirs. The “exodus” of Israel doesn’t begin with the burning bush; it starts with midwives.

Midwives bring about the presence of life. They nurture growth, possibility, and hope. The midwives of scripture dare to live in God’s kingdom; they work toward God’s purposes even when it goes against worldly power. And even though the midwives and Moses are separated by both time and geography, their ministries are bound together by the hand of God.

The fact that our life with God work doesn’t begin with us is a good thing. God’s work is always bigger than our solitary efforts. We never stand alone. Our work is but the next step in the continual working of God’s unfolding plan. Thus, we can go forward in confidence knowing that the God who worked in the past will be present today.

Who are the midwives in your past? Who are the people who worked the will of God for you, fearlessly, tirelessly, boldly? Who are the people who paved the way for you to experience the presence of God? Who nurtured your ministry, even before you were aware of your own calling?

Our lives, and our ministries, never occur in a vacuum. Our life with God never stands in isolation. God’s presence and work, and whatever calling that God has for you, doesn’t just arrive out of the blue. Like the midwives before Moses, and 16 years of prayer before I ever arrived on the scene, God has already laid the foundation. God has worked through other people, and other events, to bring you to the place you are now.