Have you ever felt mismatched? Have you ever felt like a square peg trying to drive yourself into a round hole? Have you ever felt that you were born in the wrong century? Have you ever stopped and asked yourself, "What am I doing here?"

    If so, you are not alone. When we were younger, duty and obligation may have forced us to make decisions that may no longer satisfy our spirits. Now, we have grown into somewhat different persons. The rewards of our efforts are no longer commensurate with the energy required to maintain them.

    By contrast, most people get a glimpse now and then of how richly rewarding life could be if we found our true niche – one that is truly welcoming of our gifts rather than one that imposes duties and obligations for which we are not really suited. Sometimes this comes to us on vacation, or at a workshop, or (the point of this article) at church.

    Although a priest of the Episcopal Church now for 29 years (how can it be that long?), I sometimes sense that I am not very well suited for the work. Many skills are expected and assumed of the clergy that I simply don’t have, or have to force myself to learn. Deft and easily exercised leadership, decisiveness, a ready cordiality, tact, political savvy, a perennially hopeful attitude, and being able to speak clearly on my feet are all qualities that are seen in abundance among other clergy but ones I don’t easily express. To be sure, I could never be a successful televangelist. I don’t have the hair!

    Some years ago I heard a joke which is old and so you may have heard it but it makes a good point. A young man, growing up on a farm, believed himself to be called to the ministry. He saw a vision in the sky, emblazoned with the letters, "GPC." He ran inside to tell his family that the letters meant "Go Preach Christ." So he dropped everything and enrolled in seminary where he was a terrible student. He was ordained but did everything wrong. After his third flop (correctly called "dissolution of the pastoral relationship)," he prayed for guidance. Looking up in the sky the next day, he saw the same letters, "GPC." This time, he didn’t just assume its meaning, but rather asked God for an interpretation. God told him that the letters meant "Go Plant Corn." He returned to the family farm and turned out to be an excellent farmer. It has been reported that not only does he run a fine farm, but he also provides advice and technical assistance to struggling family farms and agricultural missions in the third world. His ministry finds expression in what he natively does best.

    We laugh at the joke even as we realize that sometimes our ministry is to engage in just those things that we have done very well all along.

    I think of the woman who provides hospitality in her home. She is doing her ministry. I think of the man who delivers meals for shut-ins. He is doing his ministry. I think of the teens who become peer counselors at school. They are doing their ministry. I think of the couple who clean up the parish hall kitchen every Monday morning. They are doing their ministry. I think of the woman who straightens up the pew racks, redistributing prayer books and hymnals every Sunday. She is doing her ministry. I think of the man who writes notes or phones about 5 people every week, just telling them that they are being thought of. He is doing his ministry.

    Another friend is a parish musician. He does not make his living in music. Indeed, he has commented that if music were to be his livelihood he wouldn’t cherish it as he does. He derives enormous satisfaction from offering an ability to glorify God and for the upbuilding of the church.

    We’re apt to trivialize those things that we do naturally and easily, while discounting ourselves because we don’t have other, more-expected gifts and abilities. We should review St. Paul’s teaching that the eye, the hand, and the foot are all important to the body. (I Corinthians 12:14ff).

    Sometimes you are an eye. You see things that need to be seen. You have intuition about how it is with someone. You see beyond the obvious. Sometimes you are a hand. You pitch in and help. You make someone’s work easier. You prepare the way, or you clean up afterwards. Sometimes you are a foot. You do the leg work. You go the second mile. You run an errand. You accompany someone to a place she cannot or should not go alone. A church has eyes, ears, and hands. At one time in your life you may be an eye. Later, you might want to give your eye a rest and become an ear or a hand.

    As a priest, then, what gifts do I bring to the ministry of the church? I believe that I am a capable, thorough, and punctual administrator. I listen quietly. I encourage people to grow into their strengths. I have a very musical ear and soul. I often write well, and sometimes speak well if prepared. The lessons that I get from this article are that I am to make use of these gifts because God gave them to me for good and useful purposes, and that my abilities may change from time to time.

    Total Ministry: God loves us in our totality, and blesses us with strengths and abilities that are essential and useful in glorifying God and for the upbuilding of the church. God gives other abilities to other members of the church, releasing us from the need to fret because we don’t have those gifts.

    Square peg? In the church, there is a place for those who fit more easily in square holes. Regardless of your gifts, you are needed in the church of Total Ministry.