Builder

Did I make this decision on my own? Over the last six months, that question haunted me. Back and forth with God, wrestling with doubt, searching for confirmation. Until He spoke the exact words I needed to hear through someone who had no idea I needed them.

The Compass

I was sitting in my office at Concord Baptist Church, and I felt it. That familiar stirring. The Lord was leading me to move on.

I grabbed a sticky note and drew a compass. Circled it. Stuck it on my prayer wall.

A compass. Direction. Lord, show me where to go.

Confirmation After Confirmation

A few minutes passed. Kimberly walked into my office. We talked about her non-profit and how I could help with the technology and media side of it. A real opportunity. A real need.

The next day, Jake Carlisle's mom called me out of nowhere. "I have to meet with you," she said. We sat down and she told me about her Airbnb business and how she could use help on the technology side. Another door opening.

The following day, I ran into an old friend. He wanted to work on my video game company with me. A dream I'd been carrying for years, and now someone was stepping forward to help build it.

The day after that, Joe Dickerson asked me to start a website company with him.

Four days. Four confirmations. The compass on my prayer wall wasn't just a symbol anymore. God was pointing in every direction at once, surrounding me with open doors.

The Doubt

Even after all of that, doubt crept in.

I didn't want to be doing this for selfish reasons. I didn't want to be chasing my own ambition and calling it God's will. There's a fine line between faith and foolishness, and I was terrified of being on the wrong side of it.

Am I hearing God, or am I hearing myself?

Weeks went by. Maybe months. I wrestled. I prayed. I went back and forth, revisiting every confirmation, questioning every open door. Was it really God? Or was it just convenient timing?

But every time I tried to talk myself out of it, I'd come back to the same thing: the compass on the sticky note. The prayer. The four days of confirmations that no one could have orchestrated but God.

Slowly, I settled on the truth. God had me building these things for the Kingdom. Not for myself. Not for money. Not for recognition. For the Kingdom.

The Word

I was on my way to a Missouri Baptist Collegiate event. Just another conference, or so I thought.

The speaker was the lead pastor of Kings Church in Columbia, Missouri. He was preaching with fire, with conviction. And then he said the words.

"Some of you are builders."

My heart stopped.

He kept going. Talked about building. About brick walls. About what it means to be called to build something for the Kingdom.

I looked over at Chris Brizendine, my former boss, sitting next to me. My eyes were wide.

"I needed to hear those exact words," I told him.

Chris knew what I'd been going through. He knew the wrestling. The doubt. The months of going back and forth. And he watched God deliver the final confirmation right there in that room, through a pastor who had no idea what I'd been carrying.

Builder

Some of you are builders.

That's what the man said. And I finally stopped fighting it. I stopped questioning whether the calling was real. I stopped wondering if I was being selfish. I stopped trying to rationalize away what God had been saying to me for months.

I drew a compass on a sticky note, and within four days God opened four doors. I doubted for months, and He sent a stranger to speak the exact words I needed at the exact moment I needed them.

When God calls you to build, He doesn't leave you guessing. He confirms it. Over and over and over. Even when you doubt. Even when you fight it. Even when you're terrified that you're doing it for the wrong reasons.

He'll send the people. He'll open the doors. And when you're still not sure, He'll put the exact words in a stranger's mouth at a conference you almost didn't attend.

Some of you are builders. Build.