From preacher’s kid to pastor

A Baptist childhood

I still call myself a preacher’s kid, even though Daddy has been retired from the pastorate since 2001 and I am 50-something years old. Growing up, I listened to hymns on the record player, talked theology around the kitchen table, and regularly helped my mother prepare and deliver meals to parishioners and neighbors. When I recall my childhood, many of the memories are drenched with Baptist life: games of tag in the church yard, solid biblical teaching, trips on the church bus, youth choir practice, habitual church attendance, Vacation Bible School, deep and meaningful relationships with godly people. And from an early age, my Baptist life also included weighty theological discussions. (Daddy wasn’t threatened—and assured us God was not either—by the questions our human minds conceived.)

A call in a dream

Thus, it’s not all that surprising that I felt called to ministry. The first time I heard that call clearly came in the form of a dream back in college.

I’m walking along an open trail, that leads up a hill. Just as I reach the crest, three crosses appear in the distance. The crosses loom large, towering over the tallest trees. The rugged beauty before me catches in my throat. I look around. There should be a crowd viewing this extraordinary sight, but I am alone.

I look for someone with whom to share my find when, as often happens in dreams, the scenery suddenly changes. Now, I am looking down into a valley where I see a group meeting—it looks like an outdoor classroom of sorts. I’m excited to share the news.

“Hey! Have you guys seen this?” I yell, but no one hears. I give it another shot, this time with more enthusiasm. “It’s amazing! Three huge crosses right here on this hill!”

No one responds. I try again. “I can’t believe you’ve not seen this. It’s so beautiful.”

They keep at their tasks as if I am not even here. Frustrated and confused, I turn back to the crosses; it is then that I hear a voice. “If they are to know, you are to tell them.”

As I told my college roommate about the dream, her eyes grew wide. When I finished, she took my arm and said, “Come on! We are going to the religion department right now. You have to change your major!” But we were in line at the cafeteria, and it was almost our turn . . . so, you know, priorities.

Timing delayed

It was indeed a compelling dream, but I would not be making any changes just so I could go to work in some church, of all places. First, it was 1985 and things did not look good for Baptist women called to ministry. Secondly, I had lived that life already. My father was getting his heart broken almost daily by his Baptist denomination; I had no interest in aligning my career with an organization fraught with such cruel infighting and painful division. (Plus, let’s be honest, I was 20 years old and knew far less than I thought I did.) I stuck with my history major, figuring God would come around to seeing things my way soon enough.

Over the next 20 years, I often felt the divine tug of that unanswered call. Of course, I did other things that God redeemed, bringing forth lifelong friendships and continuous opportunities to share Christ’s love in tangible ways. Yet the call persisted. I talked to my closest friends, my family, and my pastor innumerable times trying to work out what I should do. (Note to younger self: “Maybe try God’s plan. Just a thought.”)

Finally a pastor

In January 2008, I enrolled in Gardner-Webb University’s divinity school, graduating in December 2010. From January 2011 on, I’ve worked in a variety of ministry roles. In August of 2018, I accepted my current position: pastor of Ecclesia Baptist. Along the way, I have picked up a Doctorate of Ministry as well. 

I truly enjoy most aspects of ministry—church planning, relationship building, curriculum preparation, Bible teaching, and handbell ringing (A6 and B6 ringers, I see you!). Preaching is something else entirely though. Preaching for me is . . . well . . . it’s transformative. Theologian and author Howard Thurman once said, “Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” Alive. That’s how I feel when I preach: wholly alive and most completely in line with who God created me to be. It’s like every time I preach, I am born again.

I had that prophetic dream in 1985. It gives me unspeakable joy to realize it each week at Ecclesia Baptist.

By Aileen MItchell Lawrimore

Aileen Mitchell Lawrimore is a mother x 3, wife x 35 (years not men), minister, speaker, writer, retreat leader, and lover of beagles and books. She has a lot to say.