There’s a look people get on their faces when they’re trying to figure out how they know you—the little crease in their forehead, the way their eyes narrow ever so slightly as the wheels turn in their brain trying to figure out who you are. Growing up, that was a weekly occurrence for me at church. And even now, in my 30s, I still get that look in the most unexpected places, most recently when I was at the dentist’s office. It’s something I’m used to and often joke that it’s just one of the occupational hazards of being the senior pastor’s daughter, in a reasonably large Chinese heritage church.

When I was 10, my dad started his second stint pastoring at the Chinese heritage church where I grew up. It was his first time as a senior pastor. As the eldest of three children, I was constantly watched by all the adults. If I did something wrong, I could be sure my dad would hear about it. People would call me “Pastor Lim’s daughter,” like it was my name. And, over time, I resented it! I didn’t want my identity to be “Pastor Lim’s daughter” and be held to a higher standard than all my peers. I just wanted to be Samantha, a normal kid.

At age 16, I accepted Christ as my Savior and told God that I would gladly give Him my whole life. However, there was a catch. I told Him, “You can ask me to do anything, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything but ministry.” This seemed like a relatively safe thing to tell God at the time. After all, there aren’t many women in vocational ministry in Chinese heritage churches. My plans were to attend pharmacy school—or at least pursue something equally ambitious. I also considered a music-related career, one which would allow me to follow in my mother’s footsteps as a piano teacher. I had been leading worship in my youth group and coordinating ministry teams, so I figured I could continue doing something similar, regardless of the career I ultimately pursued. But I was to find that out that God’s plans are often ironic—even like He has a sense of humor!

I entered undergrad intending to study pharmacy but emerged with a diploma in psychology and child development instead. I had chosen that major with the initial desire to study biblical counseling, which I figured was more psychology than ministry and didn’t involve serving in a vocational role in the church. Just before graduating, I started a seasonal role serving as the children’s ministry assistant at the church my dad no longer pastored. (He was now pastoring a different Chinese heritage church in the area.) I was making copies and decorating bulletin boards, but that, I told myself, wasn’t the same thing as vocational ministry. My future career would surely be something else. Anything but ministry.

After graduating I began applying to various psychology master’s and doctoral programs, but my heart wasn’t in it. So, it was no surprise that I was rejected. During this time while I was trying to discern where God was leading me, I took a job working at a daycare center to save up money for whatever might be in the future for me. (To this day, that was the most energy-draining, mental health-destroying job I have ever had! God bless those who are called to do this work!) I was angry with God about my situation, which I had put myself in, and I had an intense faith crisis. However, everything changed at Urbana 2015.

Urbana 2015 was my dad’s idea. (Pastors tend to know about these types of things!) I had never actually considered going, but he encouraged me to make time for the conference. At Urbana, two completely unexpected things happened. One, I found the booth of my younger brother’s undergraduate school and learned that they offered a master’s degree in worship. Two, when we were praying for the persecuted church during the main session of the conference, different people took turns singing worship songs. I began singing “In Christ Alone” very quietly, but out loud. Halfway through the song, I realized that a significant portion of the 16,000 people in the stadium were singing along too. In that moment, for the first time, I became open to worship ministry as a potential vocational calling for me. But would my musical skills be sufficient for such a role? I recalled some feedback given to me during my college years—not unkind, but still painful. I was told that my vocal skills were lacking. I also recalled that I had told God five years before that I was willing to do anything but ministry. So, for a whole year, I delayed applying to the master’s program in worship. However, when I finally applied and was accepted, I had reached the point of no return. My “anything but” had turned into “Yes, Lord.”

During the following six years, working in vocational ministry was never a question in my mind. I completed a worship internship at a megachurch, served as the permanent children’s ministry assistant, and graduated from my master’s program. During this time, I applied for worship-leading positions at churches, but there were no offers. At my advisor’s urging, I applied to a doctoral program in leadership. Toward the beginning of the doctoral program, as part of one of my classes, I was asked to develop a spiritual formation plan for a particular age group. I chose college students and had fun with the assignment, thinking I would probably never get to use it. However, just a few months later, I found myself accepting the role of college director at my home church.

Serving in a vocational role at my home church was my dream job. In that role, I was able to put my education to good use: developing leaders, creating systems to help care for students, and leading students to Christ and to grow in their faith. The joy I got from doing ministry was unique and life-giving. Each day I drove to work with the biggest smile on my face, unable to believe how blessed I was to serve there. The only downside I felt was that the title of my role was college director—not student minister.

Nearing the end of my doctoral studies, my role shifted toward administration and equipping, two new passions that had developed during my time in school. I looked forward to continuing to work at my home church when I finished my studies. Also, by this time, I had gotten married, and my husband and I were planning to start our family once I completed my studies. Then unexpectedly, the dream came crashing down. I was informed that my employment would not be renewed. With what I believe were their best intentions, I was advised by the church leadership that I should pursue academia instead of continuing to work in ministry. At this point, I realized that my attitude toward the ministry had changed. It was no longer, “God, I’ll do anything but ministry.” It had become, “I don’t want to do anything but ministry!”

For the next year, I was not involved in any vocational ministry role. The hurt I experienced when it was implied that I was not called to ministry caused a confusing time in my faith journey, during which I relied on the Lord more than ever. I was unsure if I would ever take a ministry position again. All I could do was trust that God was leading.

Not long after I stopped working, I became pregnant, but that didn’t stop me from applying for academic and ministry positions alike. I even secured a promising interview for an executive pastor position, only to be turned away because I didn’t have enough experience. The job prospects on the academic front weren’t much better, apart from miraculously finding an adjunct position to read dissertations. I questioned why I had invested in getting a PhD at all, why I’d gotten a master’s in worship, and whether the call to ministry—which I thought was so clear before, despite my desire to do anything but ministry—was real or if I had made it all up in my head.

The answer came in an unexpected way at an even more unexpected time: 10 days after I had given birth to my daughter—two and a half weeks before her due date. I don’t know why I did it, but I decided to check job-related emails in my maiden name email’s inbox. One worship leader position immediately jumped out at me, especially when I discovered that it was for a Korean heritage church. I applied, had an interview, visited the church, and unmistakably understood that I was called there. After I had accepted the position, I was brought to tears when the leadership informed me that they were giving me the title of minister. It felt as if the internal call I had to ministry all these years, despite my initial desire to do anything else, was resonating perfectly with my new church’s external call to meet their needs. Although it meant moving to a church with a different culture, requiring twice the travel time, and leaving the church where my husband and I had met and where my dad still pastors, it was my joy to respond to the call by saying, “Yes, Lord!”

Looking back, ministry wasn’t something I sought or pursued, but it has somehow always managed to find its way to me in the least expected ways. The only explanation is that God has been at work this whole time, directing each step of the way, and all I had to do was trust His timing and leading so that when the right time came, I could obey. Now my identity isn’t in making a name for myself, nor is it in being known as Pastor Lim’s daughter, or being in ministry, or holding the title of minister. It is in being a child of God, who so happens to be called into ministry just like her earthly father, for the glory of her Heavenly Father. What I thought would bring the least joy (ministry) has become my greatest joy. The thing I hated most when I was growing up (being a pastor’s kid) has become one of the things I’m the most grateful for. So now, when people ask what I do, I joyfully tell them that I’m a worship minister, a beautiful combination of both my parents’ legacies. And when I do get asked if I’m Pastor Lim’s daughter, I tell whoever is asking, “Yes!” with a smile on my face—even when I’m about to have a needle stuck into my gums for dental fillings!

Samantha is the worship and praise minister at Hosanna Presbyterian Church in Carrollton, Texas, and an adjunct dissertation reader for California Baptist University.