It was another typical Sunday morning. Best of intentions to find a new church home. Lots of reasons why it wasn’t a good day to start the hunt. Both of our kids were getting over illnesses, and it didn’t feel exactly right to unleash them on an entire children’s ministry.

After a lengthy debate, my wife and I decided to go and settle in with the boys on the back row of Rolling Hills Community Church. We hoped we could at least make it through half the service. We worried we might be a disruptive force.

I was feeling overly compelled to attend the service, to the point where I was pacing and getting anxious at the prospect of us not making the trip. As it turns out, God had quite a bit to share with me this morning, which explains the ants in my pants.

I’ve been writing and praying a lot about momentum lately, as I prepare for the weekend writing retreat that is supposed to kick my book into high gear. And wouldn’t you know it, today’s sermon was the grand finale of a series titled MOMENTUM. I suppose that was just God’s way of saying, “Welcome back to my house!”

I heard God’s voice throughout the entire message. Loud. Clear. Direct. It literally could not have been a more timely and tailored discussion for me. The focus was on sharing momentum with the world around you. The pastor talked about not keeping the momentum you’ve built all to yourself but opening it up to others and being a spark, an agent of change.  

Internally, I’ve been wrestling with this very issue. Ok, great, so I’ve decided that I will write this book. That I will actually finish this book. I have tried not to think too much about what happens next, because it will almost surely require that I get uncomfortable and stretch myself.  When I do catch myself thinking about next steps, I just start second guessing whether I’m writing something that will actually make a difference at all. Will it only be something that I can say I’ve done? That seems shallow, hallow, almost pointless. I want to be a spark. An agent of change.

As the sermon started, we had managed to occupy most of the back row, sprawled out with an impressive collection of diversionary tactics  – crayons, iphone, blackberry, chocolate. The kiddos were shockingly well-behaved, thank you Angry Birds and Brick Breaker, which allowed me to focus as God continued to nudge me. With almost every statement, question, insight the pastor shared, God would break a piece off and hand it to me. Among the deliveries were the following:

Helping others get going. Pushing them through inertia. Restarting them. How do we become that kind of person?

Are you reaching out?

Time to stand up. Get off the sidelines.

Be faithful. Be steadfast.

Don’t be distracted.

Live His will.

Any idea what obedience could mean?

What it could lead to?

How do you share?

What is God calling you to do?

And finally, the big one.

ARE YOU READY?

At this point, I felt God so strongly the building could have rumbled, and I would not have been surprised. I’ve written several posts in the past about feeling that God wanted me to be patient, that I wasn’t ready yet. Now, suddenly, it wasn’t a statement any longer. It was a question. Are you ready? Even the way the pastor delivered the question felt like a direct message intended only for me. I got chills.

I said yes beneath my breath and gulped. I’m ready. For what? Great question. I’ll tell you when I know. But for now, I’m ready. I have my momentum for the weekend. God is speaking to me. I’m ready.