While growing up all I ever wanted to do was be some wizard of marine biology. Some traveling adventurer that would dive down to the deepest depths and then pull out some brand new species of squid that somehow surpassed all biological discoveries that have ever come before it. Or something like that.
I dreamt of riding the waves. Heading down to the bottom of the ocean in submarines. Just being with all of the majestic beasts of the sea. Studying them and understanding them.
Then I hit college. I realized that maybe that wasn’t entirely something that was feasible. Science seems like some kind of magical realm of possibility and uncertainty when you’re a kid. Like every test tube holds some kind of mystical explosion. Suddenly my spiritual walk started to play heavily into what I wanted to do with my life when I hit the “real world.” That’s when it became wanting to find a new species and simultaneously bring the whole world to Christ in one swoop. I kinda still want to do that. Sounds rather nice.
Throughout my life only a few things have held completely true. I have always loved strawberry ice cream. I have always felt a connection to the water. And I have never, ever, EVER, EVER wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps.
It has nothing to do with him, mind you. He’s a pastor and he does his job well. He’s been through the ringer. He’s dealt with all the junk every pastor has to deal with and he has come out on top. He’s a fantastic pastor that has ushered in new and awesome things about in our church and by extension our community. It’s great. He’s great.
I want nothing to do with it.
Not a daggum bit.
Having seen Christian culture through the lens of a pastor’s son is absolutely murder for wanting a career in the ministry. Not that I ever did. And not because of the spiritual side of it. Not even remotely. It’s because of the Christians. Guys, we have the potential to be a detestable bunch. Christian culture can sometimes be the most frustrating, infuriating thing ever. Christian politics? Don’t make me curse.
I’ve seen the people that Dad has dealt with. The things he’s had to trudge through. Frankly, I’m not sure I have the demeanor and patience necessary to deal with people the way he has. I’d be in danger of telling them how I really feel.
This has led me to vehemently discourage any talk about being a preacher. Going into the ministry. Even when I was in elementary school and the lovely old women at the church would ask “Do you want to be like your daddy when you grow up?” and I would put on a serious face and say with absolute certainty “No.” They would laugh, but I was not joking.
Cut to now. The World Race. The biggest missional thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I’ve gotten numerous words from God and from other people about the strength of my voice. Not physically, but the influence of it. The weight it carries. What it can do for the Kingdom.
I’ve shared my testimony and even gotten to preach! And I enjoyed it. In college that kind of thing mortified me. I wanted to do it, but I always found myself petrified with fear. Now, It doesn’t even bother me that much. In fact, I relish the chance to do it. I have found myself zoning out while thinking about what kind of sermons I could write. Even if you look closely at my previous words you would notice I wrote “gotten to preach,” like it’s a privilege! That’s a change for sure.
Recently our contacts prophesied over our team. They were praying for us when suddenly one of them was up and prophesying over each of us. As I listened to everyone else’s it sounded pretty spot on. It made me maddeningly curious about what he would say for me. What he said was not what I was expecting.
He said that I was a deep thinker (knew that, no surprises there), that I struggled with thinking in terms of only right and wrong (crazy that he knew that, but still not surprising), that I have a powerful voice for the Kingdom (was waiting for this one), that I would be an evangelist (yeah that makes– wait what?!), and that I would heal the sick through my ministry (woah, woah, what did he say?!).
Needless to say I was left reeling. Evangelist? I feel like Seth Powell and evangelist are words that have never graced the same sentence before. Heal the sick? I believe God has the power to do anything He wishes, but through me? I barely know anything of the Spirit.
It really got me thinking. Do I know for sure that this is what my future holds? Absolutely not. Do I know anything that my future holds? Heck no.
I’ve had time to consider it. I kind of like the idea. And even though somewhere in his house in Hattiesburg, Mississippi Chip Grenn is having a laugh for this, I think I would enjoy it. I still thoroughly enjoy the idea of being an aquaculture missionary (a Fishionary if you will), I think being an evangelist sounds kinda fun as well.
So where does that leave me? What now? What’s the answer to that age old question, “what are your plans for after the Race?” Sorry to disappoint, but I still don’t know. It’s not really in the cards for me to know right now. It’s not even really all that important to me at this point. I know that God has a crazy, incredible plan for me. And in exercising that trust that I learned so much about last month, I’m gonna let Him handle it. I think it’s well within His power to do so.
Basically I don’t know what the future holds anymore. And throughout this experience so far, I have learned that it doesn’t matter. That holding onto my future isn’t letting God work through it. Living in the present is much more appealing than the past or future. God is orchestrating my life, and He’s much better at it than me. Whatever’s next, I’m excited for it.
Ready for whatever’s next. Fishionary, Evangelist, both, or neither,
Seth
