Yesterday I arrived in Dallas for the Hear the Watchmen
conference. Last night was the customary meet and greet of all the speakers and
hosts, a small gathering of individuals who by all accounts seemed all too
human.
For the longest time, within certain Christian circles, there
are some who have fostered the mindset that those whom God chooses to speak to
His servants through, those whom God chooses to be His ambassadors, are somehow
otherworldly, more than mere mortals, men and women who are not only superior
to the average Christian, but who deserve to live lives of luxury because of
their other-worldliness.
As conversations ensued, and hands were shaken last night,
the one thing that stood out more than any other, is that every single one of
us was human. Ordinary men, ordinary women, whose only notable difference is
that they chose to be servants. They chose to obey. That’s it. No mystery, no
hidden meaning, no special birthdays or pedigrees. God called, they answered,
and they made the conscious choice to prioritize the call of God above all else
in their life.
There was no talk of whether or not we all got to park our
private jets in hangars, there was no talk of how the Lord blessed us with
million dollar cars, or million dollar yachts. Most of the speakers drove to
the conference, those who flew did so flying coach, and everyone was happy to
be there, to fellowship, and to see each other again.
Yes, this was a group of unabashed human beings, who did not
try to put on airs, who did not pretend to be something they weren’t, and who
did not shy away from speaking their hearts, and letting the rest know of their
burdens and sorrows. Some shared about the fact that they’d had a trying year
thus far, with family members passing on, with children being diagnosed with
illnesses, other shared regarding their victories, and how they had overcome
weaknesses, and there I was, understanding exactly what they were attempting to
convey, limping along as though I’d had a run in with Dick Cheney in the woods.
These sort of conferences take a toll on everyone involved. I
was having a conversation with a brother just last night, and I said my feet
started hurting about a week ago, and I knew it would soon be time to go speak
somewhere, because the devil knows, and he is petty, and if a little pain is
the best he can do, then I’m okay with a little pain.
As I write this, I have yet to hear any of the speakers, or any of
their presentations, but I know that it will be uplifting, challenging, and
confirming of what God has been speaking to me of late. I know this, because it
has been the case for the last few Hear the Watchmen conferences I’ve attended,
and I don’t expect things to be any different this time around.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea Jr.
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