The Shift I Never Saw Coming

From Altar Calls to Open Tables: How a Southern Baptist Became a United Methodist

I didn’t plan on becoming a United Methodist.

In fact, five years ago, I probably couldn’t have even explained what that meant.

To say I was “raised in the church” would be an understatement. I was practically born there. My parents, still two of the most amazing people I know, were involved in everything: Sunday school, youth group, committee meetings, Wednesday night programming, you name it. We were Southern Baptist. The no-dancing, no-drinking kind. And we were all in.

At six years old, I “asked Jesus into my heart” and prayed the “sinner’s prayer.” AKA…I got saved! I was a Royal Ambassador (which is basically Boy Scouts for Baptists), I was a leader in the youth group, and I took it all seriously. I didn’t just attend church, I belonged to it. And overall, it was a great experience.

So, when I felt called to ministry at 18, I enrolled in a Southern Baptist Bible College. By my sophomore year, I was the youth pastor at a tiny First Baptist Church in West Texas. I remember the congrega…