Becoming, Not Doing: A Year of Grace, Upheaval, and Finding My Way Home
- Christopher Schouten
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
Exactly one year ago this month, my world stopped spinning - or rather, it spun completely off its axis.
I received the surprise news that I was being laid off. After more than a decade of pouring my heart, energy, and identity into a company across two continents, the carpet was yanked out from beneath my feet. As a classic Enneagram 3, my worth had long been intertwined with my work, my titles, and my visible achievements. In a single morning, I felt stripped of the armor I had worn for years. The stress wasn't just about identity - it was the immediate, terrifying uncertainty over our future and financial security, where worst-case scenarios quickly dominated my thinking. I was forced into an unasked-for silence, questioning who I was when the productivity stopped. In the immediate wake of that loss, I forgot a fundamental truth: before I am an achiever, a worker, or a leader, I am a beloved child of God - fearfully and wonderfully made.
Then, God orchestrated a moment of profound grace.
Just two days after receiving that devastating news, I sat down for my mandatory psychological evaluation for ministry with an agency contracted by the Southwest Conference UCC. I had expected a clinical, rigorous interrogation - a hurdle to clear for my discernment. Instead, I walked into a sanctuary.
I was met with an extraordinary level of respect, care, and honest curiosity. Rather than feeling dissected, the experience felt like a sacred space that allowed me to unfold, tell my story, and deeply explore who I am - both as a human being and as a future pastor. It arrived at the precise moment my ego was bruised, gently pulling me back to the core of my calling. It reminded me that God didn't call my resume; God called me.
That evaluation anchored me for what would become the most intense, whirlwind year of my life.
Looking back over these past twelve months, I am almost breathless at how much ground - both physical and emotional - we have covered:
The sudden stress of unexpected repairs to sell our house.
Packing up our lives and moving from Arizona to Texas, leaving behind deeply loved communities and individuals.
Setting up a new home in Arlington, TX, establishing roots in a new landscape.
Restructuring our finances and downsizing our lives.
Starting new jobs, entering a new church family, and navigating dual discernment paths in both AZ and TX.
Finishing my theological education and completing Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), confronting grief and healing at a level I never have before.
Doing an additional 17 hours per week of CPE course work and internship in addition to my full-time job.
Making time-consuming but blessed monthly trips back to Arizona to maintain ties with my church, my discernment committee and loved ones.
And, amidst all the noise and momentum, carrying the heavy, agonizing heartbreak of losing my best friend of thirty-plus years.
It has been a year of immense construction and profound loss. A year of holding joy in one hand and sorrow in the other. Through it all, Martin Luther’s famous words have echoed in my mind: our spiritual life is "not being, but becoming; not rest, but exercise."
To be an effective minister, we know ourselves - our strengths, our wounds, and our absolute dependency on grace - so that we can walk alongside others in their own process of becoming without leading from self-righteousness or performance. The psych evaluation reminded me of this, but the year itself forced me to live it. I had to learn to stop performing my way into God's favor and instead learn to rest in the grace I hope to one day offer a congregation.
Now, as I stand near the horizon of this discernment period, I realize something crucial: the "exercise" of becoming also requires holy stillness.
Neither my husband nor I have had significant time off in a year. We have pushed, strived, adapted, and survived. But today, after closing out work and serving one last time at BACH - Breakfast at Cathedral of Hope - this morning, we are officially stepping back. We are turning off the engines and taking two full weeks off to travel to Europe to visit beloved family and friends.
We are going to rest. We are going to reflect. We are going to celebrate.
We celebrate resilience. We celebrate love. And above all, we thank God for God's unfailing faithfulness through every storm, move, and teardrop of this past year.
As Dr. Toni Hawkins from the Southwest Conference always reminds us, "The best is yet to come!" I believe that with all my heart. But for the next two weeks, the best thing I can do to prepare for the future God is building is simply to breathe, rest in grace, surround myself with dear ones, and simply be.




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