I love my God. Honestly, He does the most lovely things. Such as daylight revelations.
Technically, it was not a daylight revelation at eight in the morning, but regardless, God dropped a revelation as clear as crystal into my mind the moment I woke up this morning.
I've been wrestling with this whole missions concept for months, and it's all been coming to a head the last few weeks. I'd never considered overseas missions at all until this past spring, when God asked me to respond to an altar call for people who were to work overseas. It was news to me.
Even since then--and even since falling in love with Berlin in May--I've known that I'm not necessarily called to vocational missions work. Though I am serious about the idea of going to Europe at some point, I do not foresee traditional missions life in my future. If I were to go to Europe, it would almost certainly be to work in discipleship or leadership development at a local church. I would just see it as moving to another place to serve at a church. I can move to Oregon to work at a church. I can move to Sweden to work at a church. There are certainly linguistic and cultural differences, but at the foundations, the options seem parallel.
Add to this the fact that there are still certain American cities and regions weighing on my heart, and you come up with a lot of questions. In the meantime, I do not wish to abandon the thought of ministering overseas, so I continue to respond to altar calls. A fair amount of people come to the logical conclusion that I want to be a vocational missionary. I haven't felt compelled to correct them all--after all, in the end, it is my calling and not theirs.
This brings us to my awakening this morning. I've been wondering to God, "How does this work? I want to work with discipleship in ______. I want to work with youth in _______. And for this season, I want to stay where I am and minister where I am already serving. These are three completely separate regions, not to mention the less specific burdens I'm carrying. How do I know where I'm called?"
As clear as any revelation I have ever before received, He told me this morning, "'Where?' is the wrong question. I never called you to a place. I never called you to a city or a country. I called you to a generation."
Oh yes. I remember.
That makes perfect sense.
And it's beautiful. Thank You.
They are mobile like the wind, They belong to the nations. They need no passport. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.
['The Vision,' Pete Greig]
