Hello everybody!
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Who am I?
I am Reverend Jerome Isaiah Ellison, Senior Pastor of New Light Baptist Church. A servant of God, a shepherd to souls, and—on most days—a steady voice in an unsteady world. Folks call me Pastor Jerome. The kids shorten it to PJ, and I don’t mind. I’ve learned names are flexible, but callings are firm.
I’m a husband, a father, a listener. A man who’s seen the inside of hospitals and courtrooms, prisons and prayer circles. I don’t preach perfection—I preach grace. I believe in the power of stories, of silence, and of Sunday dinner. I believe that faith is not a shield from pain, but a well we draw from when the heat rises.
Some folks think I’ve got all the answers. Truth is, I’ve just learned to ask better questions.
How did I get here?
Born in 1972 in Macon, Georgia. Middle child of a steelworker and a schoolteacher. I grew up with hymnals in my hands and red clay on my shoes. My first sermon was at 16—nervous, stammering, and too long. But something lit inside me that day. A hunger to connect. To heal. To bear witness.
Came to Atlanta for seminary in the 90s. Stayed because the city needed more than sermons—it needed presence. I started New Light with ten folding chairs and a rented storefront. Now we’ve got pews, programs, and a pantry that feeds over a hundred families a week. But I still miss those early mornings setting out chairs myself. There was a holiness in that struggle.
I’ve married couples, buried elders, baptized generations. I’ve sat beside dying men who could only whisper “thank you.” I’ve held teens crying out for someone to hear them. I’ve watched people fall apart—and slowly stitch themselves whole again.
I know Tasha from way back. Sang with her mama once. I visit her family often—check in on Miss Nadine, encourage Ava, tease Jayden about his spelling words. They remind me why the work matters.
This journal isn’t for a sermon. It’s for the quiet in-between. The thoughts I carry home. The prayers I don’t always say out loud. The history I’m living in, and the hope I’m still holding.