By Tina Teng-Henson

I gave notice at my church on Sunday, towards the end of a message about following Jesus through the crowd that initially loved him then opposed him in his hometown. In a message that was about leaving the 99 to go after the one lost lamb. In a message about focusing, like him, on those who were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 

I preached on the same passages five hours earlier at another church in the same city, but as I prepared it during the week, I knew the Lord had a completely different message for them — in tone, application, feel.  But at the core of it, it would be about following the leading of the Holy Spirit, stepping out in faith to love hurt people in the moment, and prioritizing those outside the walls of the church. 

I woke up Monday excited to see what God had for the day. I woke up feeling free. I woke up not knowing what God would do to surprise me and bring about that day.  Listen in as I share a bit about Sept 20th, 2021. 

After dropping off my thirdborn at preschool, I called a dear friend as I grocery-shopped and got to remind her who she was 10 years ago — as she discerned next steps about going back into church ministry after time away.  Then I sat in my car trying to coordinate my schedule for Wednesday morning. It wasn’t coming together, and I knew to let it be and circle back later. 

A man approached my car, whose name turned out to be Todd Stevenstein. He asked me if I had money or food to spare. I hopped out of my car and gave him a tomato, a banana, and an avocado from my trunk — since he had no teeth to eat the apple I’d initially offered. He was grateful, and asked, did I happen to have a blanket? I told him I did, but I was about to wash it — but could bring it back? He said I didn’t need to bother to wash it, he would just be happy to have it for the cooler nights.

Having no agenda but to be faithful to the Lord in the day and moment, I went home, put away my groceries, and felt prompting to prepare Todd a simple meal from our refrigerator. I felt so much tenderness in my heart as I laid out savory kabocha squash, microwaved a hot dog, and tucked it in a bun.  I put a mozzarella stick beside it in a Tupperware I knew we could spare. Little cucumelons from our friend’s yard and an orange rounded out the meal.  

I looked for a light blue plush baby blanket my kids no longer needed, and folded it into half of an oversized pillowcase that didn’t match anything in our home. As I left the house, I saw a faded cushion that went with our two-seater backyard furniture that I had been meaning to donate. I snapped a picture to make sure my husband was okay with what I was doing. And of course he was, as he was the one a decade ago who spent every Thursday night loving the homeless folk around Harvard Square with Starlight. Knowing Todd’s needs better than me, he encouraged me to give him a blanket that wouldn’t be too bulky to cart around, and that was confirmation to give Todd the grey blanket Uncle Tim and Aunt Christine had given us when they moved away. 

I drove back and found Todd sitting in the shade, catty corner from the grocery store, and I snapped a picture of him to treasure the moment, knowing I’d leave my phone in the car when I went out to speak with him. 

I didn’t have a lot of time, because I needed to go meet my sister. But I loved him as much as I could in the moment as I laid out his lunch and explained what I had brought. I realized I’d forgotten to get him water, so I went and got my water bottle from the car. I reorganized the food into one of the lids so I could pour water into the deepest Tupperware. 

I told him I wished I could stay and talk longer, but did he know how to read? He said he did and enjoyed reading. So I shared with him a little Purpose-Driven Life booklet I’d had for years, and a few other booklets that I thought might address issues he might be facing. 

I don’t remember when it was in our interaction that tears welled up in his eyes, but when they did, I said I would try to come back and check on him because I couldn’t hang out more. I’d prayed for him after our first interaction, so I didn’t feel the need to pray for him again. But I wonder if I’ll get to see him again today. 

Today is Tuesday morning, and I know God will enfold beauty into this day as well. I am excited for it and welcome it. A new friend is coming over at 10 who told me she wants to tell me about her long journey with God. I cannot wait to hear. This was why I went into ministry years ago. To listen and bear witness to what it’s like to know God. I am finally sitting at my desk in my new backyard office, ergonomically optimized as best as I can figure out on my own. My books and files are beside me. But they’re for reference, and some may eventually make their way back into the garage. I’ve reclaimed this room and my life for folk like Todd. For time with my sister. For the group of friends in my city who are gathering around park playdates with our children. I’ve stepped down so I can give the bulk of my heart back again to my husband and my children, and pursue greater integrity in the deepest parts of me. 

I know I am still on a healing path, and three options came to mind this morning for “what to do” now that I’ve stepped down officially from my work. I don’t know which of the three will materialize over the course of time. Which will be welcomed by those around me. It’s going to be alright whatever happens. They’re all good paths. But I am grateful for all the work that God brought about over the course of the past 2.5 years of life serving this church community. He healed some deep old wounds and is healing some new ones. 

Jesus, I love watching the stories of you and your disciples on the big screen that now sits on the desk in our bedroom from Brett and Dage. It is one of the most bonding moments I share with my sweet husband. We watch you minister and love and speak to others and teach and challenge them. I love getting to be with you before bed and waking up excited to follow you.

I’ve put the keyboard from the lady in Cupertino in our back bathroom, so when I feel prompted to worship you, I won’t disrupt my sleeping household. On Sunday, the only song that came out of me was a goodbye song by Wes Terasaki — meant for my church. But on Monday, as I sat at the piano while my kids had a tea party behind me — there were songs that came out of me from my heart to you. Genuine worship emerged again. I recommitted my heart to you as I sang.

Tina Teng-Henson is a wife and a mother, a minister and a friend. She is beginning spiritual direction training this fall and hopes to work on a DMin in a year’s time to process the last decade of church ministry in the Bay Area. She welcomes one-on-one conversations and opportunities to be in the word of God and to pray.