I had a wild and wayward time during high school and my early college years. While in college, my high school girlfriend was part of Campus Crusade for Christ and found Jesus. I was cynical and committed to getting her out of this "cult," which I saw as changing our relationship.

I joined a Campus Crusade for Christ small group to discredit them. But I was ambushed by the love of God. I constantly grilled my small group and finally ran out of questions. Because those five guys were so gracious with my cynical attitude, challenging questions, and fears about placing my trust in a God I couldn’t see, I placed my trust in Christ.

Campus Crusade didn’t waste any time. Its leadership knows they have only two to four years to help students understand the gospel and the work of the Holy Spirit. Consequently, they train you to lead small groups in your dorm. Reluctantly, I agreed to lead a group, and I learned more about ministry from this para-church organization than I did in the actual church.

Life-altering challenges
A couple years later, my high school girlfriend and I married. When we lost our daughter to a genetic abnormality, I quit my job to attend Biola Seminary full time. In our grief, I learned God “comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us” (2 Corinthians 1:4, NLT).

In seminary I had to do a funeral for a family who lost their three-year-old son. They asked the same question I had asked: “Is my child going to be with me in heaven?” When I went to my theology class later that week, my questions about heaven and death were authentic.

While dealing with tough issues in the classroom, I was a part of Ministries Inc., an organization that helps you raise money for seminary while doing ministry at the same time. I struggled to balance the priorities of work and seminary, because I thought it was virtuous to be a hard driving person. On top of taking fifteen credit hours, I worked a full-time job, in which I taught Sunday school, preached regularly, and managed a staff of six. I was overwhelmed.

Sharing the journey
A defining moment for me came when a professor encouraged me to let my wife participate in my ministry so we could journey together. At this point, I also gathered a group of peers and formed a support group to pray about our roles in ministry and our families.

One of those men eventually came with me to Saddleback. He and his wife became our dear friends, and we continue to do ministry together. Often, relationships forged in seminary cross the tests of time.

Ask God with whom he wants you to share the journey. Trust that God doesn’t want you to do ministry alone. The only questions are: With whom and when? Write down ten to fifteen names of people. Include those who may also be helpful to your spouse, and then ask if they would be willing to regularly pray with you. Don’t be afraid to reach out and ask. You may just make some friendships for a lifetime.

Brett Eastman is the founder and CEO of Lifetogether Ministries. He was the small groups pastor at Saddleback Church and the small group champion at Willow Creek Community Church.

One intangible of effective ministry is the ability to learn from experience. But if you lack experience, how can you truly learn? A mentor can help interpret what is happening in your ministry as well as provide the wisdom needed to aid growth. Gordon MacDonald, pastor and author of Ordering Your Private World, lends insight from his years both as student and mentor to help you find the right role model—and become the best student.

What type of person have you typically mentored?
I am drawn to young people who believe in self-discipline, and who have brought any personal problems from the past under spiritual management so they are not a daily difficulty. I’m also drawn to people who appreciate the power of a rebuke or a correction. I’m attracted to people who are not afraid to do little things in order to gain credibility and a reputation for faithfulness. I also like readers.

Why do you think readers make good protégés?
Readers are people who are learning how to sustain themselves. A mentor expects a protégé will one day be prepared to go off on his or her own. But that means they have learned how to draw strength and insight from other sources.

It is not unusual for me to have a conversation with someone who wants to talk on something but doesn’t want to take the time to do the reading. That’s just not a good use of time, and it hints of a person who really wants others to do their homework for them.

What key characteristics do you look for when you consider mentoring someone?
1. Signs of teachability and a hunger to learn. Do they ask questions? Do they show signs they are prepared to change and put into action the things we’ve talked about?
2. An ability to generalize out of particulars. In other words, someone who can take specific experiences and roll them into principles of conduct and thought.
3. An instinct to sustain themselves once a tool is offered. I am not interested in someone who is looking for a substitute father.

How do you find a mentor?
Finding a mentor is an art, not a science. A lot of us old guys are asked this question, and my answer seldom varies. Scan the crowd and note those whose lives are headed in directions you admire or would like to replicate. Then, invite them into conversation with your questions—and listen! Always go for the stories. In such a way there is a romance—a mentoring romance—likely to start.

My friend Paul Borthwick did this with the mother of Elizabeth Elliot. This woman had raised remarkable sons and daughters who all served God. Paul wanted to know what principles had guided her, so he regularly visited this woman—whom most young people would have completely ignored. He walked away with a wealth of insight, and a beautiful cross-generational friendship.

Did you find a mentor this way?
My wife and I, when we were young, were always on the lookout for people 30 or more years our senior willing to answer our questions and tell their stories. We invited them to our apartment for dinner, and sometimes asked if we could drop by their home for a talk. We seldom found anyone who wasn’t open to such an idea.

When we sat with them, we had a bevy of questions: What kind of families did you come from? How did you meet? What were the toughest lessons you had to learn? What do you see as possibilities for our lives?

When we found responsive people, we went back. Usually we found they wanted us to come back. There was reciprocity of relationship.

When and how do you terminate a mentoring relationship?
A mentoring relationship tends to run its course, or it turns into a friendship. A mentoring relationship, of course, does have an ending point. A friendship, theoretically, does not. Mentoring implies a teacher/student relationship; a friendship is a peer relationship. As I write in my new book, A Resilient Life, one of my greatest mentoring relationships terminated when my track coach said to me, “Why don’t you call me Marvin?” So I went from calling him “Coach” or “Sir,” to Marvin. Poof! The switch was made.

by R.R. Newell

I stared bleakly at my computer screen then pushed the laptop away as I dropped my arms down on the desk and buried my face in them. I had just been invited over to my brother and sister-in-law’s place for an evening of games with them and my parents. I was sick of doing schoolwork, and I had not been with my family in a long time. But I had so much to do before I could go to bed. There was my project for Biblical Theology of the Old Testament. And then there was Hermeneutics. And after that Hebrew . . .

Tears of frustration sprang to my eyes, and I groaned, "Why in the world am I doing this?" I had returned from two years of teaching missionary children in Asia, convinced that God wanted me to enroll in a graduate program so I could more effectively serve Him. I began the semester with enthusiasm, only to find myself soon bogged down in the mire of taking classes and going to work, wondering when I was supposed to find time to spend with my family and friends.

As the semester wore on, I began to ask God, "Didn’t you bring me to this school because it is close to my family so that I could be with them after being away for two years? And don't you want me to have time to fellowship with my friends from church and develop relationships with my unsaved friends?"

I began to almost dread being invited anywhere. Although I wanted to be with people and needed times of refreshment, I felt my studies hanging heavily over me. After all, I had begun this program to learn more about God, and I thought I would be a poor steward if I were irresponsible with my time.

The road ahead began to look very long. Doubt’s slow assault on my heart turned into a steady forward march, and I began to wonder if I should just return to teaching.

Rest’s Fearful Exhilaration
One of the phrases I love most in Scripture is "But God . . ." In this case, the "But God . . ." came in the form of a professor who gently challenged us at the beginning of the semester to believe God by obeying his command to keep the Sabbath. He even went so far as to say that if we would do this, we’d find ourselves accomplishing more work in six days than seven.

I was tempted to laugh as I remembered the previous two semesters, but something in me (the will to rise to a challenge? the Holy Spirit? desperation? all of the above?) decided to take God up on this one.

I began practicing the Sabbath principle with fearful exhilaration. There were times when I was strongly tempted not to set aside a day that was free from work, and my Sabbaths weren’t always as restful and devoted to God as I would’ve liked. But I can say that I now believe one accomplishes more work in six days than seven. Practicing the Sabbath has brought a sweetness and a sanity to my otherwise crazy life that I did not realize was possible.

Devoting one day of the week to God, His people, and recreational activity (such as playing the piano, going for long walks, and reading) forces me off the expressway of life. My drive to school includes a significant stretch of a busy expressway, and when I hop into my Escort, I am instantly in "get there" mode. Before I began practicing the Sabbath principle, I was constantly in this "get there" mode. Because I had no boundaries, I didn’t know when to take a rest. My times of rest were random and guilt-laden as I thought about all the studies waiting for me when I got home.

But with a whole day set aside, I now know when to rest, and I know my rest is coming. This enables me to work diligently during the other days of the week. Having this boundary frees me to say "no" with a clear conscience to commitments that would over-burden my six days of work. And on Monday (I prefer to make Sunday my Sabbath), I am not just ready, but I anticipate going to work again.

Spending a day in God’s presence forces me off that expressway and into the haven of himself. The Sabbath leads me back to reality—the ultimate Reality. Beginning the week in the presence of the Eternal One reorients my finite body and mind to what is genuine and certain.

"'You have shown me the way of life, and you will give me wonderful joy in your presence.'"(Acts 2:28 NLT)