I don’t love the title “missionary.” It’s a word that holds so much history and weight and prejudgement. I feel unqualified for it—like I don’t deserve it. Plus, everyone has their own idea of what a missionary is, and I’m not sure I meet their expectations. 

I’ve found that people expect me to be an evangelist or a church planter. They want my sob stories—the ones packed full of emotion. With heroes of the faith running through their minds, they wonder how many people I’ve led to Jesus, how many people come to my church or small group. Numbers. They’re so important. 

And what I’ve learned—or trust—is that these thoughts and questions and preconceived ideas come from hearts of gold. They come from a good place, but they don’t describe my job. They don’t reflect the calling God has given me—a so-called missionary. 

We are Kingdom Builders

Technically, I am a missionary. It's my title and job description. And I love my job. I cannot stress this enough. Nearly every day I wake up and experience the absolute joy of it. I am beyond grateful for the support that allows me to follow Jesus. I wouldn't trade my life for the most stable, secure job in the world. 

But

I still don't feel like a missionary—at least not the one most have in their minds. 

Because I don't think you and I are that different. We—the Body of Christ—are similar. So very long ago, Jesus told us to "Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and [the Father] will give [us] everything [we] need." (Matthew 6: 33) 

This is the Church’s charge. It’s the call of Jesus' followers—not just those with the label missionary. The Father created us to be Kingdom seekers, Kingdom builders. Forget the title of missionary. Forget all you think of when you hear that word. Let go of it all. 

I am a Kingdom builder, and so are you. 

What Exactly is the Kingdom?

When I say the Kingdom, I mean this perfect and complex way of living and being Jesus came to establish. It’s both tangible and intangible, physical and invisible. The Kingdom of God is the family of God—billions of image bearers who trust Jesus and accept the life, love, and grace He gives. Every nation, tribe, and language united under our Father in worship. 

When Jesus taught us to pray, He prayed for the Kingdom to come on earth as it is in heaven. The Kingdom isn’t far away. We are part of it right now. We find the Kingdom in the goodness and love and nature of the Father among us—creation, the Church, Imago Dei in the billions of people on this planet. 

Jesus looks at us—imperfect humans—and calls us kingdom builders. He asks us to build it where humans have resisted it, where it’s lacking, where brokenness and darkness have taken over. Building the kingdom of God isn’t about building our own stories of greatness. It’s about fighting for the heart of humanity to know and experience the Father. It’s an invitation to know Jesus, to know His abundant life and love. 

So, yes, I am a missionary, but when I say that, I mean I am a Kingdom builder. 

And I mean that you and I are the same. The Father designed us to join what began the moment He said, “Let there be light.” We are kingdom builders, created to open people's eyes to the sacred all around us. Our world aches for the collision of the holy and the ordinary. Our souls long for the divine—for the Father Himself. 

This is what we usher in as kingdom builders. 

Kingdom Building Work

Sometimes this looks like planting a church, running a training center, loving your coworkers, leading a small group, making dinner for your neighbor. Sometimes it looks big and grand. It catches people’s attention, and they label it missions. But more often, building the Kingdom means staying faithful in the little things and showing an aching world who the Father is. 

Our world is desperate for God’s Kingdom. It aches for heaven on earth. The created longs for the creator. The sustained begs for the sustainer. 

And so the Father gives us that charge: “Seek the Kingdom of God above all else. Build my Kingdom. Love Me and love your neighbor. Imitate me and help others see a glimpse of my face.” 

Friend, we are kingdom builders. May we wear this title proudly, letting it touch every part of our lives and our world. 

The post We are Kingdom Builders appeared first on Kate Berkey.

It was just supposed to be a work trip to the north side of Chicago, but since that day in 2015, a piece of my heart seemed to be forever stuck on the corner of Devon and Western Avenue. 

I think it happened somewhere between walking the streets that made me feel like I was in India or Nairobi or anywhere else but America. Or maybe it happened as I heard story after story of the refugee families who lived in the neighborhood. Quite possibly, though, it was that one phrase that completely captured my heart and made me dream a little differently with the Father. 

“God has brought the world to us.” 

Seven miles from the posh of Michigan Avenue and the tourists in Millennium Park lies an incredibly diverse community with well over 100 languages represented in just a few square miles. Nearly half of the residents here were born outside of the United States—many of them are refugees from countries devastated by violence against minorities or marginalized people, places Americans don’t have easy access too.

Afghanistan
Pakistan
Iraq
Somalia
Sudan
Burma
Just to name a few

God has brought the world to us—even in the heartland of America.

Bob Andrews, director of an organization in the community called the Devon Oasis Center, said that phrase time and again, trying desperately to help us see the opportunities in his neighborhood. 

Devon Oasis evolved from Bob and Lynne’s missional life, from the way they engaged their neighborhood, from the way they loved on and were Jesus to refugees. They didn’t set out to start a ministry. They were simply called to love their neighbors.

Today at the Center, they host English classes for adults, homework center for kids, and more, in one space. But communicating the love and life of Jesus is so much more than structured programs. It requires relationship—time together, grace and love shown time and again in friendship. So their team prioritizes going and being. They knock on people’s doors and stay for awhile. They build friendships—that all-important community. They give and they take. They serve and are served. They teach and are taught. 

And as that trust builds and relationships blossom, they encounter opportunities to love people more fully by sharing Jesus with them. It’s not a forced conversation. They’re not looking for quick converts. They’re simply desperate for people to experience the life, freedom, and love that Jesus offers us—His people made in His image. 

This—all of this—is what captured my heart four years ago. It’s what made me tell my friend in 2016, “I think the Lord is calling me to move to Chicago and work with Devon Oasis, but I don’t know why or when or what that would even look like.”

And now, four years later, it seems like the Father has said one word, and it is beautifully clear—Go. 

So, friend, I am doing just that! In March 2020, your girl plans to move to Chicago. I am being sent as a missionary by my home church, Nappanee Missionary Church, and will carry the official title of Missionary in Residence. Honestly, this is just a fancy way of saying that I will live and do support-raised ministry among the people I get to serve. They will be my neighbors, and I will be theirs. My days will look like joining Bob and his team in what they are already doing—teaching English, helping with homework, etc—as well as meeting one-on-one with women and discipling those who are seeking Jesus.

And I am so excited! 

This isn’t taking the place of Thailand. In fact, I will continue to work alongside Braverly and make annual trips to Mae Sot. This is simply in addition to the work the Father has called me to. In so many ways, it feels like He’s brought me to a mini Mae Sot of sorts. Right now many of the refugees flooding Chicago are from Burma, and in Mae Sot, many of the people I had the opportunity to love on were from Burma. When we finish the book, we hope to translate it into Burmese which will make it an incredible tool in Mae Sot and Chicago. This place, this community, this city only two hours away from my hometown is filled with opportunities to bridge the gap between ministry happening in Thailand and America.

Somedays I felt like Thailand was a detour from what the Father was calling me to, but in so many ways, it seems like it was just another step in the journey—just like Chicago is another step. Because we never quite arrive, do we? As followers of Jesus, we’re constantly asking the Father to lead us. Sometimes He takes us halfway across the world. Other times, right outside our front door. And it’s always so good. 

So how can you help me on this journey? 

• Give: Chicago isn't cheap, and I will need to raise nearly 3x what I raised for Thailand! This number feels so daunting to me, but I am trusting Jesus to provide in ways that only He can. Would you consider being part of the answer to this prayer? To give, click here and write "Kate Berkey" next to Missionary Support. 
• Pray: More and more, I am humbled by my own limitations and so grateful for those who are covering me in prayer. In the midst of another transition and lots of new, I need prayer warriors on my team!
• Follow the journey: I would love to stay connected to you on Instagram and Facebook.

Thanks for being part of my journey, whether it’s simply by reading my blog or joining my support or prayer teams. You are amazing, and I couldn’t do this without you!

The post A Life Update: Just a 2 Hour Drive but a Whole World Away appeared first on Kate Berkey.

Let’s get real about living in Thailand.

Real talk…
Every time I go to the bathroom at a certain coffee shop in town, I check for snakes.
When I speak Thai, I usually say “Thank you” when I mean to say “Hello.” Honestly, it’s confusing for both of us.
Once, I almost ran over a chicken with my bike.

Real talk…
Every time I eat cheese in Thailand, my whole body feels like it might die. This has made pizza a real challenge. 
I’ve never eaten so many Tums in my entire life. 
Sometimes Kristy and I spend $11 on a pint of chocolate ice cream, and honestly, we don’t have any regrets. 

Real talk…
About four times a day, I almost get hit by a car or motorbike. At this point, I’m a pro at dodging fast moving vehicles. (Seriously, don’t worry about me, grandma.)
The most common word out of my mouth is, “What” followed closely by the most common phrase I say, “Sorry, what?”
Once a week, a sweet woman cleans our house. Unfortunately, she thinks she knows how to organize our house better than we do. I’m still looking for an iPhone cord she “organized” when I visited Kristy for a week last April.

Real talk…
I had to get a chest x-ray from a machine so old, they had to load film in it each time. I’m told this is a huge improvement from the time my teammates had to get a chest x-ray done in a van.
Every time my neighbor coughs, I can hear it in my house. At this point, I’m seriously concerned for his health.
When I first moved to Thailand, my team kept saying that “Paw Majah was going to stop by Braverly.” It took me two months to realize that this was a branch of immigration and not the name of a small Thai man.

Real talk…
Sometimes we have no idea what people are telling us to do, so we end up writing “warranter” (whatever that is…) on an official document before we realize that people were telling us to write “volunteer.”
Sometimes I respond to people in Spanish. It’s about as effective as you might imagine.
Sometimes I pretend I don’t see the cockroach in our bathroom so Kristy has to kill it. Sorry, friend.

Real talk…
I don’t have a skin disease. Those are mosquito bites.
I guess I always imagined I would consume some sweetened condensed milk in my life, just not every single day of it.
Just because the store’s security guard salutes you when you walk inside, doesn’t mean you should salute him back. He salutes everyone. I’m pretty sure that’s what he’s paid to do. Don’t be that American. 

Real talk…
Sometimes a tiny lizard sleeps under my bed.
Once, a lizard got stuck to a sticky part on a coffee bag and its tail broke off and it died on my coffee bag.
Kristy also smashed a lizard in our door.

Real talk…
At this point, I might love air conditioners more than my family.
In rainy season, I don’t know whether to get completely drenched without my raincoat or put it on and die from heat exhaustion.
I haven’t taken Thai class since October of 2018, and I don’t plan to subject myself to that humiliation any time soon.

Real talk…
Every day I pass an arcade game called “Lucky Papa.” This is why we can’t have nice things, Thailand. 
Mae Sot was awarded “worst air quality in Thailand” in 2018, and we’re on track to win it for the second year in a row.
This morning, I decided to save my lungs from inhaling our terrible air and paid to run at the gym, which has no air conditioner and also leaves the windows open. At this, I’m not exactly sure what I paid for.

But
Real talk…
I love my weird, quirky, Mae Sot, even with its crazy drivers and terrible cheese.
I am insanely grateful to have a team that believes in me and empowers me to chase after the calling God has given me. 
I am constantly humbled that I have been invited into our friends’ lives, that I have a place in the Kingdom of God, that I have a role to play in being the hands and feet of Jesus. 

Real talk…
Some days I wonder if this gift of living and working in Thailand is a dream.
Some days I wonder if any place will ever feel like home so fast again.
Some days I wonder how I will ever leave my Outpour family. 

The post The Real Talk that Never Quite Makes it into the Newsletter appeared first on Kate Berkey.