At the beginning of every seminary class, there was always a moment where the professor would go around the room and ask the same question: “What are you planning to do with your degree when you graduate?” One by one, the answers came. “Pastor.” “Missionary.” “Counselor.” “Church planting.” Clear paths. Defined roles. Recognizable callings.
And when it got to me, my answer was always the same: “I don’t know… we’ll see what God presents to me.”
At the time, that probably sounded like uncertainty. Maybe even a lack of direction. But it wasn’t. It was just honesty. I didn’t feel pulled toward a traditional pulpit. I didn’t feel called to lead a congregation in the traditional sense. I didn’t have a clear title waiting for me on the other side of graduation. I just knew that if God wanted to use me… He would.
As a kid, I remember clearly coming out of church on a Sunday morning and telling my parents, “God told me I was suppose to be a pastor.” At the time, I didn’t understand what that meant. In my mind, a pastor stood behind a pulpit, in a church, preaching to a congregation every Sunday.
And I never felt drawn to that. So as I got older, I assumed maybe I misunderstood it… or maybe it wasn’t what I thought it was. Now, looking back… I think the misunderstanding wasn’t in what I heard. It was in how I defined it.
Because people hear the word “pastor” and immediately think of a building… a stage… a title. But at its core, a pastor is someone who teaches… guides… and shares truth with others. Now here I am, ten years later.
No church building. No weekly sermon schedule. No congregation sitting in rows in front of me. But somehow… I’m speaking to more people than I ever imagined.
A Facebook page with over 9,700 followers. A blog that’s being read in over 17 countries, across 5 continents. Books that are finding their way into people’s hands at the exact moment they need them. Conversations happening quietly, behind the scenes, with people I may never meet, but who needed to hear something at just the right time.
And it made me realize something I didn’t understand back then: Ministry doesn’t always look like a pulpit. For some, it does. For some, it’s a church, a stage, a microphone, and a room full of people. But for others… It’s a keyboard. A late night thought. A blog post written in reflection. A message shared at the right time.
I don’t stand in front of hundreds or thousands on a Sunday morning, but I’ve been given something I couldn’t have imagined ten years ago: The ability to reach people anywhere. Anytime. Across cities, states, and continents… without ever leaving my home.
And if I’m being honest, I don’t always see the impact. There are no crowds. No applause. No clear measure of how far any of this is really going. Just words… sent out into the world… and silence on the other side.
And if I’m being real, none of this is paying the bills right now to the degree I’d hoped. There’s no guaranteed salary attached to it, and no guarantee it turns into anything more. Just a desire to share what I’ve been given… and trust that it matters.
But maybe that was never the point. Maybe the calling isn’t to see the harvest, but to be faithful in the planting. Looking back, I think the better answer back then wasn’t: “We’ll see what God presents to me.” It was: “I’ll go wherever God creates the opportunity.”
Because calling isn’t always something you choose. Sometimes it’s something you grow into…
without even realizing it’s happening. I don’t know what doors God will open next. Maybe speaking to more groups, maybe something bigger. Maybe something I haven’t even considered yet.
But I do know this, The message doesn’t need a building. It just needs a way to be heard. And sometimes… the pulpit you never planned for becomes the one you were always meant to stand in.
📘 Beyond Blame: Love, Loss, and the Limits People Live Within
If this resonated with you, you’re not alone. Most people aren’t held back by what happened to them… they’re held back by what they believe it means about them.
That’s exactly what I unpack in Beyond Blame, why we carry things long after they’ve been removed, why we define ourselves by moments that were never meant to define us, and how to finally move forward without dragging the past into everything else. If you’re ready to stop revisiting what no longer belongs to you…
Beyond Blame is available now on Amazon. 
Troy P Zehnder 