memoirs of an invisible man

Babel is fallen.

Crumbled into a heap of rubble by the hand of the Almighty. For a time we may mourn the passing of our dreams and aspirations, but it's necessary that Babel die. God will tolerate no competition for our hearts. It is impossible to attempt to make a name for ourselves while calling ourselves His disciples.

Missions. Something so close to God's heart. But because it is not God Himself, it is susceptible to idolization. Missions and ministry was my Babel, made in my own image and for my own glory. And God must act in order to bring total chaos and confusion into my life so that I come down from Babel, and so that I will turn my eyes upon Jesus once again. Once Babel is out of the picture there's nothing obscurring the view.

The call of God now is not into the mission field, but into the Church. Go to church ... for real this time. Love the church ... for real this time. For so long it was my workplace, a place of struggle and strife. I liked the feeling of doing something for God, but I despised the instituion itself. I secretly resented how I was being used like a comodity.

All that's gotta change. Time for a great exchange. Learning to feel what life is like on the other side, as a member, a recipient. How hard it will be to give up control, to shut my mouth and not take charge, not make a comment or give an answer or show them how it's done. To follow and not lead, to listen and not speak, to submit and obey. To be in the church and not outside, above or beyond the church. To be one of the sheep again, for the first time.

baa.