Long story, short. A couple of decades ago I decided to answer my calling and become a “professional Christian.” (People smile when I say this.) I left business but took my skills to work for big-time ministry organizations. Or, I thought that’s what I was doing. Honestly.

After 12 years as an executive with three different large, brand-name ministries, I struck out. Three strikes and you’re out, right? In each case, my leader—every time a business re-tread like me—proved to be done-in by the power, position, and other corrupting temptations that these ministries presented. To be clear, I mean they were all fired, and I, as their minion and sponsoree was swept up in the housecleaning that ensued.

As the dust settled around the ultimate situation, I asked, “Why did this happen to me?” I joined yet another church but found myself more suspicious than supportive. I would not be taken in again.

Finally, I asked “What does the remnant of my faith consist in? What’s left of the calling, the personal mission, the confidence that I had at the start? The answer came, hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, a better next time. Because there will be a next time. Because of Jesus.

When you decide to make it so, life is all ministry. But ministry doesn’t always (Does it ever?) work out the way you thought it would. Make sure you give it what you can and keep the hope alive. My experiences in prison ministry showed me the power of hope. But it was years before I felt it and used it in my own life. The former prisoners I met who had lost their freedom and with it all the opportunity that life in America has to give, found hope again in Jesus. I can too.

I have trained myself (after much reminding) to say the word confidence when I hear the word faith. This happened after many years of hearing faith tossed around with abandon—like so much of the Christian-speak vocab—and used to mean, usually, belief in, but also assurance, assuredness, trust, hope, theological belief system, and my denomination’s belief statement.

I’ll take Hebrews 11:1 in the NIV any time as my go-to, trustworthy, and helpful definition of faith for me as a Christian: Heb 11:1 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.

It bothers me a little that my favorite translations define faith as assurance—somthing that’s offered and given to me by someone else, which has its uses, I’ll admit—rather than confidence, which I take to mean something I have created in and of myself and own by myself. Maybe I’m splitting hairs. But I just love how saying confidence makes me feel when someone says faith. Confidence. Yah. More about this later.

I have issues with the NIV (New International Version) in other spots, but they sure got it right about faith in my book.