Friends, you might want to put on your big boy/big girl britches for this one. This one might sting.
The easiest way to do nothing is to claim we have nothing to do. It's more comforting that way, less self-incriminating. Can we make that claim truthfully? For some, sure — particularly, those that are just starting their walk with the Lord. Go ahead and take your time. Get yourself settled first.
For the rest of us, that claim only provides enough “plausible deniability” to allow us to remain on the couch, mostly guilt-free.
One of two things is more likely true:
You know full well what you're supposed to do, and just don't want to do it. (gasps in shock!)
You have an inkling of what you're supposed to do, but aren't completely sure. (nods sympathetically)
I want to deal with #2. It's more fun for me, and likely more useful for you. (Plus, dealing with #1 would require me to shift into full preacher mode, and nobody wants that.)
The problem with #2, though, is that even that defense starts to look flimsy after a while. There's nothing wrong with wanting confirmation (Gideon did that), but there is something wrong with not moving an inch until you get the confirmation you want (Gideon did NOT do that).
“But the Spirit of the LORD clothed Gideon, and he sounded the trumpet, and the Abiezrites were called out to follow him. And he sent messengers throughout all Manasseh, and they too were called out to follow him. And he sent messengers to Asher, Zebulun, and Naphtali, and they went up to meet them.
Then Gideon said to God, “If you will save Israel by my hand, as you have said, behold, I am laying a fleece of wool on the threshing floor. If there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that you will save Israel by my hand, as you have said.” And it was so. When he rose early next morning and squeezed the fleece, he wrung enough dew from the fleece to fill a bowl with water. Then Gideon said to God, “Let not your anger burn against me; let me speak just once more. Please let me test just once more with the fleece. Please let it be dry on the fleece only, and on all the ground let there be dew.” And God did so that night; and it was dry on the fleece only, and on all the ground there was dew.”
Folks like to mock Gideon for the fleece requests, but they overlook the important fact that he was already in motion. He had already sounded the trumpet and sent the messengers. He had doubts, yes, but he didn’t let those doubts stop him from moving.
See, most of us, on the other hand, aren’t just waiting for God to appear — in a burning bush, or a neon sign in Times Square — but we want Him to arrive with the whole plan printed out, with charts, footnotes, and a table of contents. All of this so we can finally rule out every quiet concern, and every doubt. Only then will we decide to move.
Listen, friends, I'm not sitting in judgment. I have sat on that very same couch (eating Cool Ranch Doritos, no less), waiting for that same burning bush. And I needed the same exhortation that I'm giving to you now.
“Go.”
While you're bingeing sitcoms, your soul keeps yearning for the work you've been called to. It keeps popping up in your mind like a calendar reminder. You can hit snooze all you like but it'll keep coming back. In the shower, during the commercial break, in line waiting for your pumpkin spice latte. You try to get away with hitting snooze because it arrived as a nudge instead of a lightning bolt, and surely God would be louder if He actually meant it.
Not exactly.
Consider Nehemiah, the king's cupbearer. Comfortable, employed, a long way from the rubble of Jerusalem. Then his brother, Hanani, showed up with news from back home.
“And they said to me, ‘The remnant there in the province who had survived the exile is in great trouble and shame. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates are destroyed by fire.’”
That was the whole delivery. A report from someone who, as far we know, carried no title other than brother. Not a prophet, or a pastor, or some other position that might’ve given his report divine credibility.
And yet it wrecked him. The next verse says he sat down and wept, and mourned for days. Fasted, and prayed. A piece of news walked in the door and lit a fire that would eventually rebuild a city. Nehemiah's vision came through a conversation he didn't schedule, about a need he suddenly could not let go of.
It reminds me of how God appeared to Elijah:
“And he said, ‘Go out and stand on the mount before the LORD.’ And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper.”
Here is what I most want you to see: God reached Nehemiah through his brother. That was the whisper. The delivery method was subtle, but it carried real weight. So the burden you keep discounting because it showed up without fanfare may be the very report God is using to get you going.
You are probably not waiting for a vision. You are waiting for a more impressive one.
Your Next Move
This week, name it. The thing you keep circling — the need, the idea, the "someday" — write down in one plain sentence what it is and why it won't leave you alone. Don't polish it. Don't figure out the how yet. Just put words to the thing and admit you are taking it seriously as something God may have handed you. You cannot make a vision plain, or count its cost, or run with it, until you first admit you have received it.
Hit reply and tell me the one you keep circling back to. I read every one.
Over the next few weeks we'll be tracing our God-given vision from the moment it lands to the day it's built.
And this October, I'll be kicking off a free masterclass called Run With The Vision — for people who hear the call but need help answering it.
Learn more at tuckerwhit.com/events.
