I have been collecting call stories from colleagues who are serving in diaconal ministries expressed in the United Methodist Church through the provisional and ordained deacon, diaconal ministers, deaconesses, and home missioners. This week we hear from Rev. Amy Crisp, a deacon serving at Mt. Pisgah UMC in Richmond, Virginia. Here is Amy’s story in her own words:
It was summer 2000. I was fourteen years old and on my first mission trip when I received my call to ministry. I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with church or even much of a relationship with God, but I went on that trip to Mountain T.O.P. because I was excited to spend time with my friends and to nurture my newly developing faith.
Throughout the week, as we served some of the most impoverished people I had seen, sharing our faith together and working alongside one another, something kept tugging at my heart. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I felt like someone was trying to tell me something important about that experience. I spent the better part of the week trying to ignore that feeling, trying to brush it aside, because I wasn’t sure what to make of it. But that tugging, that nudging on my heart just wouldn’t go away.