Everyday I'm reminded of different tragedies being faced here at school. Whether I'm being reminded of them by school faculty or seeing a clever poster around campus I am constantly reminded that everyone is experiencing, going through, something.
Last night I played Never Have I Ever with some girls from my floor. The concept of the game is for everyone to start out with 10 fingers up and then each person goes around the room announcing something that they have never done and if you have done it you put a finger down. Whoever has any fingers left at the end wins. Of course people got just a little racy and I learned some things that I could have gone my whole life without knowing but luckily the confessions weren't anything too gut wrenching. One girl I met on my floor Grace has been a person I've been hanging out with lately. I didn't learn until last night that never has she ever owned a bible, she's agnostic. Most of the people put a finger down and complained about how that was cheating since they went to private schools or were raised catholic but I just silently put down a finger and sort of reflected on the signs I've seen Grace display that said she wasn't a Christian. Only her sailor's mouth came to mind, yet I can name lots of Christians who can't seem to, or choose not to, control their language. I became anxious to learn about how she got to this point and why. If you believe in nothing, that's still a belief and a hopeless one at that. As I was the only one not to complain about owning a bible I felt the eyes on me of people wondering why I wasn't upset about it. I ignored the pressure of the staring and carried on.
Now, tonight at Cru we talked about how everything happens for a reason, how where we are right now is where God needs us if we're believers and if we're not He's placed nonbelievers in a place to find Him. God put Grace in the room across the hall for me to share His love with her, in any way.
I've spent the majority of my time here at college waiting on some huge revelation from God to show me in some burning bush way what Holy Land He wants me to takea mass of His people or what illness I need to cure miraculously and I've forgot the little details. I've forgotten about the Grace's across the hall. I've gotten wrapped up in the thought of my riches in Heaven I was comparing myself to others rather than knowing God has me where He wants me and will move me when needed.
I had a a friend freshman year who went to South that I really got to know at the Freshman Center who was a believer, but not quite a follower. We all knew each other went to church but never talked about it. The summer before sophomore year he was going through my iPod and saw Mighty To Save. It was a song that really shaped his life earlier that summer when God spoke to him. I remember being on Dakota Downey's trampoline at the dusk of a summer week night with Connor having his headphones in singing along to, "Shine your light and let the whole world see, we're singing for the glory of the risen King, my Jesus," with the biggest, most sincere smile of pure joy I had ever seen on Connor's face. Some people there laughed at him because they felt awkward about Connor so openly praising God but I remember how relieved I was knowing that God had finally spoken to him and almost guilty for not being the one who got him there. Luckily, God spoke to Connor, thankfully God got in his heart that summer and such a close friend of mine's salvation, or lack their of, didn't lie on my shoulders. But knowing that Grace doesn't know God kills me. Maybe it worked out with Connor, thankfully my out of tuneness with the Holy Spirit didn't ruin Connor's chances of eternal life, but now I know that Grace doesn't have God. Luckily, thankfully, for Connor God was able to find him without my help and I was still able to see the growth in him, but I don't want to be leaving Springfield in May finding out Grace is still living a blind-folded life lost in the world when I had all the equipment to lead her to Christ. Even on Grace's best day it doesn't even compare to my worst day with God. It sucks for all of those people who think they're enjoying life but they don't even know! Who will tell them if not for me? Maybe God wants me to lead a mass of his people to some Holy Land, maybe I am supposed to miraculously cure an illness. Or maybe Grace is, and maybe my part in that big picture story is being the one who leads her into salvation.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
This past weekend I went home to ease the pain of my leaving for my parents and to see all of my friends since I've left for college. Coincidently, my father was celebrating his 19 years of sobriety. Obviously, he was sober for three months before I was born, but I've been alive to see the effects, positive effects.
Months before I was born, my parents were saved and started to attend a small church downtown. Soon after the extradordinary day of my birth, my dad lost his job. He began to grow weary and doubted if God was on his side or not, his pastor told him, practically dared him, to try to live his life without God and see how crappy things would get.
My parents would tell us the struggles they faced during my first few years of life, but they always reassured me of the plan God was sculpting through their struggles. I've always known my dad to be really good at one thing, if not anything else my dad is a Provider. So many times people have walked into our house looking for guidence only my dad could provide; whether it have been guidence with car trouble, directions, or life, my dad always had the answer, and if he didn't, he would provide a name that did. I've only known my dad as the man he is today, I've only known him since his growth in Christ; and because of that I've seen my dad sit at the kitchen talble taking phone call after phone call from customers because he's been blessed to own his own company, I've seen my dad talk on the porch for hours with guys fresh out of prison because he's been able to use his ugly past as a connection, I've seen my dad run to Las Vegas to pick up his sister-in-law and his nephew from a home they shouldn't have belonged to and offered up our own home when they had no place to stay because God has made him a provider. I remember my dad celebrating his 10 years of sobriety, his 15 years, but what I can't recall is his 6 months.
I think we often forget that whoever wants to become great amoung you must first become a servant, we forget that Rome wasn't built in a day. Before my father could celebrate his 19th year of sobriety he had to celebrate his first day, that even though it was a struggle to give up that lifestyle, I'm sure if you asked him today he'd tell you it was worth it.
My father's entire walk is longer than my lifespan, let alone my rebirth. Being in my first semester of college I'm waiting to start my big, huge story, not just be apart of one. But I must remember the liberation of that first day, not be told of what greatness feels like but experience that for myself. As I grow in the relationships I have started now I know I can reach what God has planned for me in time, as long as I remember this walk is a step-by-step journey, not a mile-by-mile.
Months before I was born, my parents were saved and started to attend a small church downtown. Soon after the extradordinary day of my birth, my dad lost his job. He began to grow weary and doubted if God was on his side or not, his pastor told him, practically dared him, to try to live his life without God and see how crappy things would get.
My parents would tell us the struggles they faced during my first few years of life, but they always reassured me of the plan God was sculpting through their struggles. I've always known my dad to be really good at one thing, if not anything else my dad is a Provider. So many times people have walked into our house looking for guidence only my dad could provide; whether it have been guidence with car trouble, directions, or life, my dad always had the answer, and if he didn't, he would provide a name that did. I've only known my dad as the man he is today, I've only known him since his growth in Christ; and because of that I've seen my dad sit at the kitchen talble taking phone call after phone call from customers because he's been blessed to own his own company, I've seen my dad talk on the porch for hours with guys fresh out of prison because he's been able to use his ugly past as a connection, I've seen my dad run to Las Vegas to pick up his sister-in-law and his nephew from a home they shouldn't have belonged to and offered up our own home when they had no place to stay because God has made him a provider. I remember my dad celebrating his 10 years of sobriety, his 15 years, but what I can't recall is his 6 months.
I think we often forget that whoever wants to become great amoung you must first become a servant, we forget that Rome wasn't built in a day. Before my father could celebrate his 19th year of sobriety he had to celebrate his first day, that even though it was a struggle to give up that lifestyle, I'm sure if you asked him today he'd tell you it was worth it.
My father's entire walk is longer than my lifespan, let alone my rebirth. Being in my first semester of college I'm waiting to start my big, huge story, not just be apart of one. But I must remember the liberation of that first day, not be told of what greatness feels like but experience that for myself. As I grow in the relationships I have started now I know I can reach what God has planned for me in time, as long as I remember this walk is a step-by-step journey, not a mile-by-mile.
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