It doesn't have to look the way it always has.

“I have a burning passion to bring Jesus everywhere, but it doesn’t have to look like it always has”

This was said maybe by my friend Sadie, maybe by me. I can't really remember, to be honest.

But what I do remember is the conversation we were having.

It was a couple months ago, and despite being both housemates and ministry partners (she's my co-host and the other brain of The Anchor of the Week, a great podcast that you should for sure listen to and that I am definitely not shamelessy plugging here), we realised that we had barely had a converstaion within recent months that wasn't just about work. So after our respective days of ministry, we met at a cosy pub around the corner from our house and tried our best to keep the topic strictly on our personal lives as we yapped over a glass of wine.

The fascinating thing about the two of us is that, due to our radical choice to move from our homes in North America to another continent for the sake of bringing the gospel to one of the most influencial cities in the world, we have lived A LOT of life for two not-yet-thirty-year-olds. We've both found ourselves in places we didn't think we'd be, serving in ways that seemed like a contradiction to what we thought God was calling us to, and have watched ministries and dreams die with the seasons.

But we've also seen God heal things we thought were hopeless, speak words over our lives that are beyond our wildest dreams, and breathe life into ministries and initiatives that released freedom to others through our artistic passions.

And in this dimly lit pub, we were forced to confront the fact that ministry (and frankly life in general) isn't always going to look the way it once did.

And we were faced with a question: does the way that it looks actually matter?

Or actually, let's put it more bluntly: has the promise become an idol in the way of the One who gave us the promise in the first place?

This is a question that I have to ask myself a lot. Because believeing in the promise is faith, right? And that's good, right???

Well, yes. Of course that kind of faith is good. But does my passion depend on the fulfilment of a promise? Does yours?

As we sat there across from each other, undoubtedly still talking about work no matter how hard we tried, I believe we made a silent commitment to each other. Between the lines of our conversation came an understanding that if we were actually real friends, we would hold each other accountable to this credit-less phrase still rattling through my mind.

“I have a burning passion to bring Jesus everywhere, but it doesn’t have to look like it always has”

What if none of my "dreams" come true? Does that mean that the most basic mandate of a Christian, The Great Commissiom, no longer applies to me? Do I only hold up my end of the deal of making disciples if God makes my ministry (or life) look like I think it should? Have I become so comfortable in what I know that the thought of things looking different is making me spiral into existential crisis?

This has been a blog of a lot of questions. But questions are good. In fact, I would like to personify the rhetoric in the Western Church that good Christians don't ask questions and slap it in the face.

Moving on. I wonder what things would look lile if it was normal for the Church to actually ask itself these questions. Maybe we'd be okay with things shifting and changing, old things being lost and new things discovered. Because the dream / ministry / project / promise [ fill in your own blank here ] wasn't the point anyway. It was always been the glory of God and an insatiable desire for others to be transformed by His power.

Of course change is tricky. Life isn't easy. But we can be simple. This year I want to be simple. When all is said and done, I really believe that we can say with all the faith in the world that our God is good, that He will do what He says, but I also choose to believe the One who makes the promise is infinitely more beautiful than the promise itself.

Sadie and I eventually took our conversation to the street, walking the five minutes down the road to our home. We cooked a late dinner, went to our rooms, and woke up the next morning and carried on with life. But there was a quiet yet resilient decision in our hearts to always be willing to be used by God, regardless of circumstance. I hope this determination burns in your heart too. ❤️‍🔥