When God scattered men like seeds riding the wind, with mixed tongues and confused speech, He always meant for the corners of the world to inhabit praise.
He always meant for His name to go far and wide.
I imagine the tower of Babel, the hands of men making their way to the heavens by sheer will and determination and no small measure of pride. The arrogance to stay huddled and similar when all along God commands our reach further than we’re comfortable. Genesis 11:1 says, “Now the whole earth had one language and the same words.”
But God dispersed them with tangled tongues.
Still, we find each other. The ones who are the same. The ones with the same stories, the same language, the same look. The ones who will help us build our kingdom just the way we like it…
Finish reading over at (in)courage
