As many of my Raleigh friends know (and not a few outside of Raleigh) my current ministry calling will be ending on December 31st of this year. I along with Megan and Auggie are trusting God for our next adventure, but I also know God works through means — like networks.

When you’re a minister, it’s not just a job or career or profession. It’s a vocation. It’s a calling. It’s who you are. We’re just built different. My deepest desire is to stay within ministry, or at least church-adjacent (the academy, church consultancy, Christian-based media). Likewise, returning to school to get a PhD is not off the table if the Lord provides an opportunity and funding. 

I am not the type to self-promote, it goes against every fiber of my being (or at least every fiber of my training). I prefer, in the words of the old gospel song, to leave it at: “May the work I’ve done speak for me.” So bear with me as I attempt to lean into something that doesn’t come natural to me. I apologize if it’s cringe. But here goes. 

Fred Buechner, writing on vocation, once said: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” In the church-at-large today, I sense deep hungers for hope, grace, stability, and safety. By a hunger for safety, I don’t mean the hesitation to commit because something is uncomfortable or new or challenging. That’s not a hunger for safety; that’s sloth. 

But I digress. My point is, this is where the pain points are. My deep gladness is to be able to walk into those painful places — which sadly (and scandalously) too many would bind up as though they’re nothing — and apply the Gospel, straight no chaser.

My deep gladness is to give people — especially struggling Christians — the grace to struggle with dignity. The hope that soothes the ache. The stability that celebrates even small steps — and makes them possible. And the safety to grow, thrive, struggle, doubt, weep, and rejoice without being dismissed, rebuffed, minimized, or mocked.

Practically speaking, I am skilled at finding and even creating these intersections between these deep hungers and my deep gladness through communication. I am an above-average preacher, a gifted and seasoned teacher, a prolific researcher and content creator, and I also know my way around one-on-one and small group soulcare. (Keep in mind I’m also the king of understatement. I will undersell and thus overdeliver all day long). 

My preaching, teaching, writing, content creation, and soul-care are all deeply Gospel-grounded. My approach to discipleship takes its cues from the 23rd Psalm. I have a deeply pastoral heart that fuels the mind of a scholar. Because I am never learning just to know the thing, or to be impressive, or sell you anything. Rather, I take an intentional “faith seeking understanding approach” that’s meant to comfort, edify, challenge, and form.

I’m also not the kind of minister who’s looking to reinvent the wheel or get people on the bandwagon of the latest gimmick brought to us from the labs of the Christian industrial complex. I ever seek to be informed by Scripture first, and then the healthiest insights and practices of 2000 years of the Christian faith. Our Lord once said: “every scribe who has been trained [literally ‘discipled’] for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old” (Matthew‬ ‭13‬:‭52‬ ‭NRSV‬‬). That’s an apt way of describing my approach to my vocation: I am a scribe who brings out the most fitting treasures from our vast Christian inheritance — to the glory of God, and for the good of His people. 

Day-to-day, Lord’s Day to Lord’s Day, year by year this looks like strategic preaching and teaching; content creation for digital discipleship (videos, study guides, podcasts); and of course — being on-call for the milestones and the setbacks, to rejoice or weep with God’s people as necessary. 

It also looks like revitalizing the local church’s relationship with our deepest treasures: the ordinary means of grace. Helping people see how God grants repentance, redeems, renews, comforts, grows, and sustains His people through the Word, baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and prayer. 

This is what you get with me, whether it’s in a pulpit, a classroom, a living room, or a hospital room: Empathy. Sincerity. Clarity. Stability. Hope. Because I’m never pointing you to me, or a technique, or five-steps-to-do-a-better-job. I’m always going to point you to Christ, given and raised for you. 

If that sounds delicious to anyone with connections, hiring authority, or prayer warrior skills, I should know what adventure my family and I will undertake next by closing time today. If it’s not calling to somebody like mama’s Sunday dinner, what on earth are we even doing?

On a personal note, please be praying for Megan, Auggie, and me. One major source of anxiety for us at the moment is Auggie’s education. Finding just the right fit for our neurospicy kids is a daunting process. It took us three schools in two years to finally find an environment where he thrives. And just when we found it, we found out we would need to be moving on after December. 

If anyone at my current ministry call is reading this: I love you! Thanks for loving my family and I so well. Always remember that Jesus is still the Good Shepherd and Chief Shepherd of His flock; He holds all things together; and He will not cast you away or let anyone snatch you from His hand. Church life can be messy because people are messy. But He will never leave you nor forsake you. 

If you’re itching to bring me on board at your church, parachurch organization, Christian media initiative, or know someone who might be, I can be reached at jeremysmarshall3@gmail.com; or through Facebook messenger here.

I know that God is working all things together — even this — for His glory, my good, and His good purpose. Yes, it’s painful and I’m walking with a limp right now. But God is still good, even when our present circumstances are a category five diaper blowout.