We returned from that summer brimming with purpose and goals. Nancy and I found a map of France small enough for our hands to cover perfectly over the nation. We prayed every day with our hands on France. It seemed a light hovered over the city of Tours, and we figured John and I would one day settle there. In the meantime, we focused on France and all it would take for us to move there. We sold our house, we broadcast our intentions to astonished family and friends, and prepared to move after finishing Bible school.
At the end of our first year attending Rhema, the school required that we choose a major for the second year. Our friends had been telling John he should be a pastor, so I decided to start calling him “Pastor,” as in “Pastor, dinner’s ready.” Or “Pastor, don’t forget to walk the dog.”
One day, he met me after class just beaming, “I guess I really do have a call. The teacher in my last class said that we are whatever we are called at home. You call me “Pastor,” so I must be a pastor.”