Yureka!

It had been a long demanding road: four years of hard effort and now I had it in my hand...I was a bona fide minister! Now everything would be easy for this starry-eyed dreamer. WRONG! My first step out into the great unknown was a flight from L.A. to St. Louis. We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto. Wait, scratch that...I was headed for Kansas...Topeka to be exact. Why, you may ask? Because a small church filled with wonderful Hmong people were part of the congregation and the pastors needed me to build a bridge to them.

I remember sitting down with the elderly pastor and his wife two months before. "You realize that I do not know their language or culture--I'm half-Japanese!" Nothing I said seemed to deter them or their preference. "We think you will be ideal; they will feel comfortable with you."

So here I was with willing heart and luggage in hand--leaving on a jet plane. When I settled in and began to mix with the tribal people from Laos, Blue Hmong to be exact, I had no difficulty with their culture, food, or fellowship. I had a blast!

My difficulty did not lie in ministry but in the fact that I was working in a small church that did not have sufficient means to support me. I had to find work fast. I applied to several businesses but nothing was available. After two weeks of fruitless attempts the only thing that opened for me was being a maid at a Ramada Inn. After a short struggle I swallowed my pride and took the job.

So where was this great minister that was going to take the world by storm? Four months after graduation I was on my knees cleaning a bathroom floor and weeping into the toilet. My complaints were flowing as fast as my tears. "God, why did you call me into ministry if this is where You wanted me?"

I reminded Him that I had already been cleaning out toilets when I volunteered my time at church, four years before my expensive education. I had just received two letters the week before from fellow classmates. One was on radio in Boston ministering to gang members while the other friend was teaching at a Christian school in Illinois.

It felt as if God was pouring salt into a wound. Where did I end up? Like Bill Cosby said so succinctly, "I put my face in a place where God never meant for me to put my face!" Weeping in a toilet. Yeah, right and I was going to change the world!

After the tears subsided somewhat I cried out, "Why, Lord? Just tell me why--I want to understand." Then clear as a bell I heard my own voice being played back as if it had been recorded. "When you are a servant of God then there is nothing too low for you; no task too menial. You are not your own anymore...you are bought with a price; your will is now swallowed up in the will of another."

Fine words, true words but only words. I had preached on servanthood just a few month before graduation. Now I understood: God was taking me at my words. Then this scripture came to my mind, "If any man will do His will he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God or whether I speak of myself." (John 7:17).

Light illuminated my understanding: I wanted to know God's will before I did anything and Jesus was saying the exact opposite...you must do His will first and then understanding will come later. I would never learn about servanthood by preaching grand sermons--I had to do it: like feeding the hungry street people in SF late into the night or taking teens who had never been out of the city on a camping trip. In L.A. you can only see a handful of stars: these kids saw the Milky Way for the first time and spoke with awe of God's creation as they drifted off to sleep under the canopy of stars.

So what about crying into a toilet bowl? Well, after I understood what God was trying to do with my life my twisted sense of humor took over. I began to sing...and nobody sings well after they've been crying. What lofty song was lifted to the vaunted heavens? I'm sorry to report that it was not a worship song or hymn...I'm not that godly.

The song that came to me and that I sang out loud was from some musical. I don't remember which one but it went like this..."If they could see me now, that old gang of mine..." I couldn't remember the rest of the words but I sang the tune. I sang louder and I scrubbed the bowl harder and then I began to chuckle.

If anyone had witnessed my behavior they would have shipped me to the funny farm but here I am sound of body, limb and when it comes to my mind...only slightly off kilter.