I sat in the old wooden chair waiting for class to begin, chafing under the self-doubt that I think all new students feel. Can I do this? Did I misunderstand God’s will? What was I thinking? I was keenly aware that I was a young, single woman in what was mostly a man’s world.

Scarborough Hall at Fort Worth’s Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, at that time, was filled with wood – wooden doors, wooden chairs, wood paneling, maybe even wood floors. I didn’t know it at that nervous moment, but all that wood made for a perfect “sound chamber” and I was sitting inside it.

God’s sweet whisper came next in a manner that happened only once — that day — while I was there. The singing started at the end of the hall and swelled quickly as, room-by-room, students joined in. The sound was rich and fervent. 

 “Footsteps of Jesus that make the pathway glow. We will follow the steps of Jesus where’er they go … Though they lead o’er the cold dark mountain seeking his sheep, Or along by Siloam’s Fountain helping the weak … ”

God’s whisper in that moment was most definitely not “There, there. Everything’s going to be fine.” It was a simple “Follow Me.” It was peace. It was a reminder that there is no greater promise.