I stayed late after services that Sunday, later than usual. It was a good thing I did.
“DR. RAGIN?” ONE OF THE CHURCH’S stewards asked. “There’s someone here I think you should talk to,” he said.
It was a late Sunday afternoon, the October sky already growing dark. The service had long since ended. Normally I’d have been home by then. But for some reason, I was still in my office at St. Luke AME Church, lost in thought. Am I even making a difference? A question I asked myself again and again.
“Send them in,” I told the steward.
I had worked as a nurse for 30 years before retiring in 2010 and enrolling in seminary. But no amount of schooling could prepare me for the challenge of being a minister. Yes, I was still helping people—but not in the same way. As a nurse, I’d been able to see immediate results. People came in sick; we helped them feel better. Spiritual healing was different. You could encourage people to change, but you couldn’t change them yourself. And even if you did help someone, there was no concrete way to measure it. Sometimes it was hard not to be weighed down by doubt.
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