I had a wonderful conversation this morning with a man who has grown to be a hero of mine - he is doing big things for Jesus.  In the caste system of this world, one could say he has "made it to the top."  He owns his own law firm, is the Honorary Consul for the Republic of Uganda, is the CEO of a successful organization that fights to restore justice around the world, and he teaches at two, top California universities.  The best part - he claims responsibility for none of it.  My head would explode if I had half those responsibilities.  It is fun to him.  Simply talking to him makes you grateful to be a child of the King.  My favorite takeaway from him has always been his montra that as Christians, we should "leak Jesus."

His worldview, his outlook on life, his attitude - Jesus.  Everything else is secondary.  An hour long phone call with a young guy he's never met is not a burden, it's a privilege.  A school he started in Uganda doesn't belong to him, it belongs to anyone who helps.  It isn't a Christian school, it's a school about Jesus, because religion doesn't change a country, the Son of God does.  He told me on the phone, "God is nuts for children."  So is he.

When you come in contact with someone who is 100% devoted to Jesus, it changes you.  Organizations suddenly lose their sparkle, people are knocked of their pedestal.  I would be the first to admit that I am quick to be prideful of my accomplishments.  I don't hesitate to praise the name of an organization, or brag about a person.  But the danger is that these things become the main thing.  Projects become idols; status symbols.  The name of a ministry is more important than the name of Jesus.  A person matters more than people.

As I look over the past years of my life, I think on those people that I've said to myself, "I want to be like him."  The funny thing is, the vast majority of these men have had one thing in common - they were all striving to be like Jesus.  Perhaps it wasn't them that my heart yearned to model my life after - it was the very one they themselves were chasing.

Above all else, Jesus.  Sometimes I'm so focused on doing things for Jesus that I forget to simply be like Him.  My attitude, pride, selfishness - they're birthed out of a desperation to be a successful disciple.  I'm so desperate to do the "right thing" that I completely miss the point.  The Christian life is simple - Jesus wants all of me, and He wants me to give others all of Him.  Fill up, pour out.  Repeat.  Or better yet, pour out as you're filling up.  And keep the faucet running.

Reflection

I just finished reading through the journal I kept on my first two tips to Africa in 2003 and 2004 - all sixty pages. The biggest thing that stood out to me? I was a terrible writer. Boy, did I sound like a 13 year old. Yikes.

Hideous handwriting and grammar aside, the content was the richest thing I've read in months. Not because I don't have any good books by my bed. Piper, Saint, Lewis... They make for some thick reading. My journal, however, is comprised of personal experiences - the words leap off the page and grip my heart in a way that is all too familiar. I'm reading my own story - one that has never been more clear than in this moment.

June 17, 2003. My first trip to Africa. We've been in Botswana a week and I write: "I have a strange feeling that God already wants me back here."

Two days later: "Those feelings, they grew. Last night during the service, I realized there is a place in my heart for missions. God wants me back here."

Skip ahead one year. It's 2004 and I'm back in Botswana, just like the Lord had led me. We've finished our final day of ministry and have made our way a few hours south into a game reserve. As lions roar in the distance (seriously), David Dean shares a message. Those strange feelings from last year had been developing. I wrote: "I'm going to be a missionary. David said something they hit home tonight. Since I can remember, I've wanted to me a missionary, but never felt called. The thrill of travel and adventure excites me. He talked tonight on the fact that we've all been called already. I have the desire, the obedience, and now I know I've been called to do it. God knocked hard tonight, I'd be a fool not to answer."

Eight years and countless Africa visits later, here I sit. Floored, amazed, humbled. God brought me here, He is writing my story. I think back on the past few years and the chapters that have come and gone. Some were painfully short, others couldn't have ended soon enough. I recorded this in my journal in 2009:

"Often times it's not decision that robs us, but indecision." Some decisions are harder than others, especially when it means leaving something you love behind. A person, a job, a lifestyle, a paycheck... Moments of decision require your head and your heart to be in sync - the pain comes when one reaches the right conclusion far before the other. There are days of agony, of praying, of "God, are you sure?"

I read through that journal and it can't be more obvious - the Lord was speaking to me around those Botswana camp fires. I took action on those convictions, and I couldn't be more thankful. If there is one thing I have learned in my life, it is this: when your head and your heart are finally in sync, when you know the call you are about to make is from the Lord, make it. It's rarely easy. People get hurt, and sometimes things get messy. But God is sovereign, and when you follow him despite the collateral, He backs you, and the floodgates of joy open. It's as if He's saying "Alright, you made your move. Now, watch Me make mine."

If your head and heart are divided today, persist. Press on. If God has made His will clear to you and you're stalling, wait no longer, for you only rob yourself. Don't let indecision get in the way of the lavish life of joy God has for you.