This is the second entry in my Momentum series, a conference where I was serving and hearing a lot from Jesus as I learned how to transition out of community. Please follow the entry to read the first entry, MOMENTUM: Behind the Counter.
I mentioned in my previous post that I decided to go to Momentum, in a serving role, for myself.
I didn't realize that taking on that role and not being able to be with the rest of BCF that first weekend would be so difficult. As they arrived, as they hugged, some squealed, as they caught up with each other...my head began to drift further and further from the kitchen to where they were, right on the other side of the kitchen counter.
And as I listened, I began to really mourn the transition out of my fellowship.
As we all had dinner, I saw how they enjoyed it, both the food and the company; how grateful they were for the cooking team's service.
I began to relax; but still, I wanted to be with them.
In the time I had spent resting instead of leading; after leading a missions team in my insecurities began to bubble to the surface. What did I actually do? How did I grow to have spiritual authority among BCF? I don't see it, not anymore.
After dinner, I finally had a chance to sit and listen.
Listen, without having to pretend that I was being attentive to hot links, spilled drinks, or refilling napkins.
My friend Helen and I sat down at the back of the room as missions testimonies were being shared.
And, slowly, as another rose from his or her chair, shared what God had done in them and in Fresno, Honduras, South L.A., and Turkey, my heart grew more and more full.
And as a young man, Jonathan, shared of his experience in Honduras, what he learned, what he saw and how his outlook on life and on his faith had changed... the fullness of my heart overflowed as tears from my eyes.
I began to weep.
Weep, because I have witnessed the transition of this man. One that I truly call a man of God.
And I see the strength, wisdom and beauty that is growing in him.
The truly amazing part is, he's not the only one. There are countless moments, stories, journeys just like Jonathan's.
As I sat there amazed and utterly grateful,
I felt a strong hand on my shoulder,
and a whisper from the voice my soul recognizes as His own, saying, "You did good."
And that was enough for my heart to receive that night.