Introduction Life with others is never accidental; it is the sovereign weaving of God’s hand. Ministry has never been a solitary calling but a shared journey, where the grace of God is revealed through the lives of those, He places around us. The people with whom I have most often shared ministry have been, to me, like living epistles—letters written not with ink but with love, sacrifice, and faith (2 Corinthians 3:2). Their words, their deeds, and even their differences have shaped me more than any textbook or sermon could. What follows is not just a story, but a testimony of how God uses people as chisels to carve out His image in us. Doofan: Faith and Presence Among these extraordinary companions is Doofan, whose faith is both steadfast and tender. I recall an evening in our small community center when a young man named Daniel arrived, weighed down by doubt and shame. His voice trembled as he confessed struggles that seemed impossible to voice. Daniel had been involved in fraud and a dangerous confraternity and had just returned from the hospital with a report suggesting early-stage tuberculosis. Deep within him, he was wrestling with conviction from the Lord over the many sins that had marked his life. His presence at the community center that day was nothing short of a miracle; most people had long avoided him, yet here he was, vulnerable and seeking help. After hearing his story, I felt inadequate, unsure of the words that could carry such a burden. Doofan, however, simply placed a hand on his shoulder, looked into his eyes, and said, “God sees you; Jesus loves you, and He has not forgotten your heart.” As she spoke, I could see a boldness that was unmistakably God-given; the Holy Spirit moved through her words. Daniel broke down in tears, a man hardened by life and circumstance brought to his knees by the gentle power of God at work through her. The simplicity of Doofan’s presence and the constancy of her faith taught me one of ministry’s deepest truths: it is not always the eloquence of our words that draws people to God, but the authenticity of our presence and the Spirit’s power working through willing vessels. Faith, she showed me, lives in the space where love meets attention and courage meets compassion (James 2:17). Tega: Humility and Courage Then there is Tega, whose humility, courage, and unwavering devotion have reshaped my understanding of vocational service. Our story began when we met as children during my tenth birthday celebration—he had come with a neighbor—but fate brought us together again in secondary school, where we both became deeply involved in TFJ (Teens for Jesus). I remember a Saturday when our team was tasked with distributing food to families in a nearby neighborhood. Amid the bustle, Tega quietly stayed behind to help an elderly woman carry her provisions up three flights of stairs, insisting on no recognition. Observing him, I realized that leadership and ministry are measured not by visibility, applause, or measurable outcomes, but by selfless acts that honor God and lift others (Mark 10:44). Tega’s example taught me that ministry is as much about the unseen as the celebrated, and that competence and character are inseparable. Over the years, walking alongside him, I have come to understand what it means to serve faithfully without expectation, to lead with humility, and to allow love to drive action more than ambition ever could. Differences That Shape Growth What strikes me most about Doofan and Tega is how they differ from me. Where I am often hurried, chasing tangible results and immediate affirmation, they move with patience, trusting the slow, unseen work of God in hearts and communities. Where I am cautious and calculated, they embody trust: trust in God, trust in others, and trust in the sacred rhythms of daily life. Their differences have challenged me, reshaped me, and stretched my faith. I have learned to slow down, to listen deeply, and to value presence as much as productivity. Miriam: Vulnerability and Authenticity A third figure in my ministry journey, Miriam, has taught me the radical power of vulnerability in leadership. Miriam became the youth leader under fierce circumstances, elected as the head of a predominantly male youth group in our church. During a youth retreat, she courageously shared her own story of failure and doubt before leading a discussion on grace. Witnessing her transparency, I realized that authenticity invites transformation: it dismantles walls, fosters trust, and allows others to encounter God’s truth in profoundly personal ways (Romans 12:9–10). Her example has pressed me to cultivate a ministry that is not only competent but also honest, approachable, and deeply human. Integration of Content, Character, and Craft Through these mentors and companions, I have come to understand ministry as a living integration of content, character, and craft. Biblical knowledge informs my decisions; character shapes the heart with which I serve; craft equips me to translate knowledge and love into tangible acts that honor God and bless others. These lessons—learned in the quiet corners of classrooms, the bustling streets of community outreach, and the sacred spaces of shared vulnerability—continue to mold me. Ultimately, ministry is a life lived alongside others, not a checklist of tasks. It is in their presence, through their words and deeds, that I see the reflection of Christ: faithful, humble, compassionate, and present in the lives of ordinary people. Conclusion In the end, life with others is a mirror of life with God. The lessons I have learned from Doofan, Tega, Miriam, and others in ministry have become the foundation stones of my own journey. Their wisdom, their differences, and their unwavering faith have not only broadened my perspective but deepened my roots in Christ. Ministry is no longer something I “do,” but something I live in the company of God’s people. If I have become a better servant, a wiser believer, or a more compassionate soul, it is because of the community God
