It was pink when I started out. The sky.


Thick clouds hung over the central valley, over the Altamont Pass, so the blaze of the sun was muted pink.  Hushed, nature waited.


There is a pause, you know. A moment of suspense, waiting for the sun to break through. The moment may last momentarily or seemingly forever. The moment is stability – assurance that the new day is coming because we’ve seen the light, but pause and collective intake of breath before the sun grows intense, the light blinding.


Stability is good. We like stability. It is comfortable. It feels homey. All the ducks are in a row, the finances are static, intake and output are balanced, the seas are calm and the boat isn’t rocking. Yes, this is a good place to be.


But what if there’s more?


That sky this morning turned metaphor before my eyes. Should the sun never pass beyond the height of the clouds, should it never break over the horizon, should it remain in the stable comfort of the clouds, then what? And I prayed, “Lord, take me out of the stable. Take me into the growth.” And I prayed for the ministries in which I’m involved, “Lord, take us out of the stable. Take us into the growth.” Because growth is kingdom glory. Growth is where people are shaken and come to their knees and submit to Jesus. I know this myself. When God takes us out of our comfort and hands us something new, He equips, He guides, He says, “Depend on me.” And knowing nothing better, we do what is ultimately best. We hand it over to Him. “Build your kingdom here, Lord, despite me and my feeble efforts.”


In the last five years, I’ve helped build a tea company; in the last three years, I have overseen a ministry to women; in the last five years, I’ve written about ministries in Africa; and in the last couple of years, I have watched an idea take shape for a coffee shop. And the thought that strikes me over and over again is that these “buildings” – whether a ministry or a company or a business or a not-for-profit— whatever we are building, if we build without God’s guidance, all our strivings are in vain. It is so beautifully expressed in this song: All Glory Be to Christ.


What we put our hands to, what we create, is nothing without God. We don’t know what legacy will survive from our work. But if it is kingdom work, it is not in vain and it will not go unreturned.


We have so many partners – missionaries, doctors and nurses, coffee shop owners, baristas and managers, church leaders – and we are seeking to do God’s will, to build God’s kingdom on earth. All glory be to Christ.


It was pink when I started out on my walk this morning. The sky. But by the time I returned home, the sky was technicolor blue and the sun was high above the clouds. The day was growing. The kingdom is growing.

On Monday mornings, we pray for you, our partners. Tomorrow, we pray for your growth. We pray that God moves you beyond stable to kingdom legacies beyond your wildest imaginations.