Lately, I'm questioning my future as a missionary; or maybe I'm just really asking for the first time -- is this really my calling? Is this what I was personally created for?
I love people, and I consider missions the frontlines of the war for the kingdom. I'm not totally fond of my own culture, and love the idea of living overseas. I think what really speaks to me about the missionary's calling though, is the thought that Christ will come back, once His word has reached all the peoples of the world. I think my greatest hope is the return of Jesus, and I think the real allure of missions, for me, has always been quickening that return.
On the other hand, I take stock of myself, and I just don't see the marks of a missionary. I'm hugely introverted, and am not very evangelistic here at home.
The line between reason, and the seeds of doubt the enemy plants is so subtle. I don't want to believe the lies, but I also don't want to miss my true calling.
The other day, I was thinking about my future, and out of nowhere, thought - 'I'd really like to write for a living.' And something quickened in my heart, A spark of excitement about the future, A stream of possibilities, A dream of impacting the church, and changing the church culture, empowering the bride of Christ --- through words.
I'm not saying writing is my destiny, (though I implore you not to make a judgement on that based on this stream of thought, and gramatically errored entry). It's more significant, because that hope and excitement about my future, is not something that missions awakens in me. The mission field is often in my mind, more a duty - or a means to an end; not so much a delight.
Where is your will, O Lord? Where is the path you laid for me?
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