“What’s your name?” barked the military training officer.

“Hicks.”

With minor irritation in his raspy voice, “Is that how you’re going to say it???”

As if I wasn’t already nervous enough, a look of bewilderment spread over my face as I answered with a hesitation unbecoming of a military officer, “Allison . . . Hicks . . . ” I trailed off.

Now with major irritation in his voice, “Is that how you’re going to say it???”

Long pause, sudden light bulb, and finally, the brain stops misfiring as I offer the correct response, “Sir, Hicks.”

And so began my first military conversation as I reported for officer training.

For a few years now, I have had this unexplainable, often seemingly irrational interest in military chaplaincy. I have never been sure how I came upon this interest; it just became a part of me somewhere along the way. After working past the initial and recurrent internal battles of its feasibility in my own life and ministry, I began training as a chaplain candidate and found myself reporting for officer training. My military training has absolutely been one of the most challenging experiences of my life. I remember the first training week . . . with every loud command to me, came the internal dialogue within me, “Don’t these people know I just want to be a chaplain?!  I just want to love people. I’m just here to help.” During the first week of officer training, I kept asking myself over and over, “What are YOU doing here?” The rigors of officer training forced me to engage my calling in a way I never imagined.

This past February, in the church where I serve as associate pastor, my parents pinned my new 1st Lieutenant rank on my shoulders and a chaplain mentor presented me with my chaplain badge. Having completed two summers of chaplain candidate training and having received my chaplain badge months ago, I reported for duty last week to my home base as a new reserve chaplain. After all this time preparing for military chaplaincy, I’m not sure I understood the role of a military chaplain until this past week. As I walked into the hospital room of a young airman, something happened within and around me. A place was made for me in that hospital room because of the military uniform I wore. There was a connection made immediately because of our common bond of service. Even in all of our differences, our lives merged in those moments by the simple, visible connection we found with one another. I didn’t have to find a place, or earn one, I was accepted as a fellow airman and as her chaplain.

Wherever we find ourselves in ministry today, may we be reminded: ministry happens where lives intersect. May we be open to the unique opportunities we stumble upon as we journey. May our lives speak the good news of life redeemed and renewed to all those we encounter.

Allison M. Hicks is associate pastor at First Baptist Church, Middlesboro, Kentucky, and a reserve chaplain in the United States Air Force.