Arizona, Here We Come!

It was mid 1984 and Rachel’s birth in January had plunged me headlong into the world of adult responsibility. No longer was I the carefree lad free to explore whatever occupation of the moment might intrigue me but was instead being called upon to be one of the co-providers for this precious gift that had been bestowed upon Mary and me. I was losing the fight as a Field Underwriter for New York Life (even though I had just passed my NASD exam on the first try; a rather extraordinary accomplishment, I was told) and Mary cut to the chase in her characteristic style. If you would spend as much time trying to sell insurance as you do volunteering for the [Arvada] church, she told me, you probably wouldn’t find it to be such a struggle. This should be telling me something, she said, about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. My NYLIC trainer was Bob Paul, himself an inactive ordained minister who had achieved notable success with the company, and he concurred that the biggest problem I was having with sales was that my heart just wasn’t in it. He agreed with Mary that working for the church seemed to be my true calling. And so I set about looking for a church job. A new position was being created at the Arvada church which very much interested me, but it was explained to me that I didn’t possess the required credentials. A search of the denomination’s various publications turned up a position of Director of Lay Ministries at Trinity Heights United Methodist Church in Flagstaff, Arizona, and my resume earned me an interview with the Staff-Parish Relations Committee. The competition didn’t stand a chance! I offered my organizational and administrative skills and the question of my credentials never even came up. So, on the threshold of my thirty-fifth birthday (remember that magic number?) a caravan consisting of a U-Haul and cars full of grandparents made its way toward a new adventure.