H Hour, D Day

I love Fort Wayne. It feels like I can't get lost. It feels like it's growing up with me. It feels like it's always on the verge of something. All the people I know here are on the brink of breaking through, getting out, kicking it once and for all. They're all getting ready for that next thing, waiting for the pieces to come together, hoping that phone call, email, text message comes. And we're all still here. I don't know why, but I love that. It's familiar. It grounds me.

So when it comes time to depart, there's a security in knowing that South Side will still have ivy when I see it again, but there's a faith that something will surprise me on every return. Bandido's will have a technicolor paint job and you will be in the midst of an exciting new step in your journey. And that's why it's not too hard to leave this time. Because every time I've left, it's been right where I left it.

But Africa? Africa's a wide-open mystery, inticing, yet potentially hazardous, filled with potential adventures and misadventures. And Christ is there. That much we are certain of. He has been there since He drew the mountains from the earth, since he carved Lake Tanganyika into the crust.

And He is with the poor. They reach out to Him and He answers, like He has since the Exodus. The people call out and He responds, "I have heard their cry." And as He sent Moses, as He sent Nehemiah, He continues to respond to their cry through His people. So we're going, filling our place in the long line of people of faith who have left their families, friends, homes, careers, for the sake of the oppressed, believing that we're going to see Christ in the least of these.

So these last days before the day, I am thinking of you. I am thinking of my friends and family in Fort Wayne who are always on the verge of something. I am thinking of those of you who are endlessly on this side of your breakthrough. Fort Wayne will be here for you. It's not going anywhere. But the Rabbi is walking, and He's calling you to follow. Maybe it's time for you to set your H Hour, your D Day. Maybe it's time to step into the wilderness, in faith that the Promised Land is really Promised, that the cloud of smoke is real and the pillar of fire won't dissipate. Maybe there's a cry coming from the people of somewhere, and God is whispering, "I have heard their cry, and so now... go."