KINGDOM

Are We There Yet?

Fifteen years ago, I heard a divine voice say, "Sell everything and follow Me."It echoed the scripture where the rich man asks Jesus how to enter the kingdom of God, and Jesus responds:"If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me."— Matthew 19:21

And so I did. I left it all behind—possessions, security, reputation. For the next fifteen years, I lived by rivers and camped in the bush, led only by divine guidance. Now, those years of surrender are becoming stories—perhaps even a film.

Today, I found myself wondering: Have I entered the Kingdom of God?

The answer is a clear and resounding yes.

When I stepped out of my day, and into God’s day, everything changed. In His day, control is no longer in your hands. Those years in the wilderness weren’t just a physical stripping—they were a spiritual purification.

You need silence to recognize the noise inside. You need stillness to detect the tension between you and God.

When God takes your titles, your identity, your plans—it feels like a free fall. Vulnerability is uncomfortable because it exposes. But that’s where He meets you. That’s where He fills you.

I was brought to my knees—literally and spiritually. And then, I remembered Matthew 19:24:"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God."

I learned something powerful about that passage:In ancient cities, some gates were shaped so narrowly that camels had to kneel and be unloaded to pass through. It wasn’t impossible—it just required surrender.

I had to be unloaded too.My social status.My self-importance.My attachments.Even my name.

Everything came off my back.

Only in that place—unclothed from the world—could I truly see the gate to His Kingdom. Only from that place could I enter.

At first, I responded with self-righteousness, still trying to navigate events through my old lenses. But there was nothing left to cling to. Only time, presence, and peace remained.

And then it came: a peace that doesn’t make sense. A peace not of this world.I stood up—not in my own strength, but rooted in Him.My identity became clear—not as a title, not as a role, but as His.I didn’t need to go anywhere to commune with God anymore. He was here.He’d always been.

It was me that had to get out of the way.

So… are we there yet?

If you're on this path, you might already be closer than you think.