If I knew what to write at the beginning of this post then I'd write about it throughout, but I don't. India was wonderful, again. It was harder to leave this time than the first time (which I guess means this next time will be even more difficult). But it also let me remember things.
When I first became a Christian I wanted to be a missionary to anywhere. First I got to go to Israel with my senior class then to Egypt with some friends. Next was Uganda, but on the flight home from Uganda I remember distinctly being told - or lead - to know that my times of traveling had come to an end, that it was time to do work in Wichita.
And that's exactly what happened. As an intern I helped, by the sheer grace of God youth grasp the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. As a pastor at a church plant I saw God build his church and discipline me lovingly, growing me in my knowledge of people and my understanding of God.
But I'm not an intern anymore nor am I a pastor.
I can't deny he's leading me to something else. I can't fight the call on my life. I can't overlook the first desire of my heart, the one he had me set aside for a time.
My dad said it well, "Preach Jesus and him crucified and raised from the dead and ruling in grace and mercy."