028

I'll notice the void in the morning.

For the first time in years, my Sunday has no plans. Work has provided a firm distraction from the absence of a functional church body. This isn't the first time I've given up the "sure thing" for the unknown, but my recent track record in hearing God is stretching my faith to its limits. This house, this location, and the seeming fruitlessness of ministry -- can I trust that I'm living in His favor? I never knew I could know so little.

Of course I'm marketable. This is irrelevant. I'm not fearful about finding a job. I fear it would be too easy to find another to resist the discomfort He would ask of me. But my direction is nil, and the blind cannot lead the blind. What good is the act of discipleship if I have no clue where to lead? Christ called the Pharisees blind guides... that's how I feel.

Bonhoeffer's words about the body being a privilege have helped. If God were to remove such a privilege, what do I need to sustain me? Should I even be looking?

I can't simply run to the next thing, regardless of how God has blessed this in the past. My flesh needs a rhyme and reason, and I cannot tell you why. It's different this time. God expects me to be intentional. Despite an awareness of my passion and vision, I don't know where to start that would offer me a shred of assurance that it's the appropriate step. That's probably the point.