“Go to the Middle East.”
That was the clearest call I had received from God. The next eight years were spent praying about, dreaming about, and preparing for my move to the Middle East.
I have always been the ambitious sort, the type who prepares for every change and possibility and attempts to plan the next 15 years, now. If possible.
So I went. God gave me the call. And I went.
Naturally, during my eight years of planning I began to dream about what the call from God might mean. I convinced myself He must want me to live overseas forever.
So I told others I would move there for my whole life. And quite honestly, my heart was willing.
But God had different plans.
Getting me there was simply the beginning of the life-changing, faith-rocking journey He was starting me on.
I thought it was a forever kind of call. Instead, God was asking me to follow Him in the faith-based kind of pursuit where He is the Good Shepherd and I am the lamb following Him wherever He would lead me.
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to years and slowly God began to whisper to me that it was time to move home.