My Call Story

A Winding Path to Calling

People sometimes assume that those in ministry have followed a straight and steady path of faith. My own journey has been anything but direct. Looking back, I can see that God has been at work through every season—sometimes clearly, sometimes quietly—but always faithfully.

Early Glimpses of Faith

I was raised in a family that was nominally Christian, though faith was not something we regularly practiced at home. My first meaningful exposure to Christianity came through my Granny, Gyrene. She was a devout Southern Baptist whose life was shaped by her faith; she attended church multiple times a week, served faithfully, and embodied a quiet, steady devotion.

When I was in elementary school, I asked my mother if I could start going to church with her. Each Sunday, she would take me to Granny’s house, and I would go with her to worship. It was there, in those Baptist churches, that I first learned the stories of Scripture and the foundations of Christian belief. Just as importantly, I saw what a life of faith could look like when lived with sincerity.

My Aunt Lindsay also played a role in those early years. During occasional sleepovers with my cousins, she taught me to pray before bed. These simple lessons were deeply formative. It was one of my first introductions to spiritual practice.

A First Awakening

In high school, I began attending an evangelical church with my girlfriend at the time. Not long before that, I had gone on a backpacking trek through the mountains of New Mexico at Philmont Scout Ranch. Each day included a devotional, and each evening I found myself reading and eventually working my way through the entire Gospel of Matthew.

Surrounded by the beauty of the mountains and immersed in the words of Scripture, something shifted in me. For the first time, faith was not just something I had inherited or observed; faith became something I experienced. I can still look back on that time as the beginning of a genuine awareness of God’s presence in my life.

I quickly became involved in church life, joining the youth group and even playing bass in the youth band. It was in that community that I chose to be baptized, marking an important step in my faith. My family, though not especially active in church, showed up to support me; I continue to appreciate the gift of their love and support.

Questions and Disruption

That season of belonging, however, was not without its challenges. During the early 2000s, conversations around sexuality and identity in the church were often marked by rigidity and exclusion. I witnessed close friends being shamed and denied a sense of belonging because of who they were. That experience left a deep impression on me.

What I saw did not align with the love of God I encountered in Scripture. It led me to begin asking difficult questions—about authority in the church, about interpretation, and about what it means to reflect Christ’s love faithfully. Over time, I realized I was longing for a tradition that was both rooted and expansive, one that could hold conviction and compassion together.

Searching for a Spiritual Home

That longing led me, somewhat unexpectedly, to explore Catholicism during my time at LSU. I was drawn to the beauty, reverence, and sense of continuity in the tradition. All of this was entirely new to me. For the first time, I encountered worship that felt deeply connected to the historic life of the Church.

Yet, despite my appreciation, I found myself unable to fully embrace certain doctrinal positions, particularly around full inclusion of the people of God. Just as significantly, I remained on the margins of the community. I attended regularly, but was never invited into deeper participation. In time, I moved on, grateful for what I had experienced, but still searching.

After college, I drifted away from church altogether for several years. During that time, I was pursuing a career in historical archaeology, a field not always hospitable to religious belief. And yet, even in that environment, I began to feel a quiet pull back toward faith.

Finding a Place to Belong

That pull led me, somewhat hesitantly, to University Presbyterian Church in Baton Rouge. My plan was simple: slip into the back pew and observe. Instead, I was greeted at the door by Rev. Patti Snyder with a warmth that immediately disarmed me. She introduced me to others, helped me find my footing, and made it clear that I was not just welcome, but wanted.

In that community, I found what I had been searching for: church that was grounded in tradition, yet open and thoughtful; a place where questions were not feared, but engaged. As I learned more about Reformed theology and Presbyterian polity, I discovered a deep resonance. Before long, I was serving as an usher, chairing the Fellowship Committee, and eventually being ordained as a Ruling Elder.

Joining the church on Easter Sunday remains one of the most meaningful moments of my life. It was a powerful reminder that faith is not just something we believe, it is something we are invited to live into, again and again.

Discerning a Call

Not long after becoming deeply involved in the church, I began to sense that my vocation might be shifting. A moment at an archaeology conference planted an unexpected seed: a speaker remarked that archaeology, for all its value, was a roundabout way of trying to change the world—and that few people were really listening.

That comment unsettled me. I had long felt a desire to contribute to the well-being of others, to be part of something that made a tangible difference. Around the same time, I attended a community organizing training through Together Louisiana, where I encountered clergy actively engaged in the work of justice and care. For the first time, I began to imagine ministry as a path through which I might live out that calling.

With encouragement from my wife, Sydney, and the guidance of Rev. Snyder, I entered a season of intentional discernment. What began as a quiet wondering gradually became a clearer sense of call. After months of prayer, conversation, and reflection, I took the step of entering the formal process for ministry.

That journey, like so many others, was not without its challenges. The early days of the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted plans and delayed milestones. Yet even in that uncertainty, the call remained steady.

Where I Am Now

I eventually enrolled at Brite Divinity School, drawn by both its academic rigor and its ecumenical spirit. My time there has deepened my theological understanding while also broadening my appreciation for the wider Christian tradition.

Through my work at First Presbyterian Church in Fort Worth, I have had the opportunity to grow in pastoral care, teaching, and leadership. These experiences have continued to confirm what I first began to sense years ago: that I am called to this work.

There was a moment during my examination for candidacy when I was asked a simple but weighty question: Do you feel called by God into ministry? For a long time, I had wrestled with how to answer that. But when the moment came, I found that I could say “yes” with clarity and conviction.

A Continuing Journey

Scripture reminds us that there is a season for everything. I am deeply aware that I am still in the midst of that unfolding story. Yet I move forward with a sense of trust—trust in the God who has guided me thus far, and trust that the path ahead, however uncertain, is held in that same faithfulness.

My journey has not been linear, but it has been shaped, at every turn, by grace.