From The Desk of David

I’ve been dreading the penning of the words in which you are about to read. Why? I am unsure. I suppose it can be related to a fear of growing pains. Growing is never easy but it is a necessity in this life. Without growth, things die. I suppose I should take joy in the growing pains as Paul did. However, my humanity limits me at times and in this past season, my humanity has been made clear, but while at times, my humanity has been made known, the goodness of Jesus has been made more known and in all His Triumphant Goodness, He has taught me to be okay with being human and reminded me that if I were not human, I would have no need for His endless and sufficient grace. So, I suppose that the time has come, to tell the story of Freshman year. It would be a grace for you to sit and read these words—words saturated in pain, wild abandonment, tears, and joy. I hope you find hope in these words…enjoy…

Freshman year—where to begin? I guess the beginning will suffice. I remember the beginning, unpacking boxes, feeling joyful and fearful all at once. I had heard and seen numerous of students embark on the same journey of packing and moving hundreds of miles away to further their education and officially obtain the coveted status of adulthood. There was a joy to be found as I ripped open boxes, finally allowed to use the new things that I bought for the sole purpose of constructing the perfect, Pinterest-worthy dorm room. Ah, but there was my first mistake. I believed the lie that everything had to be perfect. And it would be the hardest lesson I would have to learn in this brand-new season. I have always struggled with comparison – comparing my hardships to others highlights that are plastered all over their walls and feeds and I would end up feeling insufficient and imperfect, while everyone else seemed to have it all together. While yes, my futile striving to have the perfect dorm room is a small aspect of this lesson, it made way for larger lessons to come.

I grew up under pressure – not bad pressure, good pressure, but it was pressure nonetheless. Someone once surmised that “people are like diamonds and grow under pressure.” I don’t think I agree with this. I don’t think that people are like diamonds and grow under pressure. Yes, some pressure is good, this I agree with, but never ending pressure leads to failure and is in failure that a way is paved for the lies of the enemy to convince oneself that they are not good enough. This is what happened to me. Most of it was pressure placed upon myself but I quickly learned that nothing can grow in pressure. I think Jesus referred to it as, “religion.” In the Gospels, it is often seen that Jesus criticizes the pressure fueling religious leaders, who placed their self-worth on if they could uphold the law correctly. But I think they missed the point. The law was never supposed to be something the Lord held over our heads, waiting for us to fail, but I think the original intent of the law was love. It was to protect our ignorant selves from the dangers of sin and the world that we knew nothing about. I used to think this way – the way of the religious leaders. Thinking that I had to be good enough for Jesus to love me. But I was wrong, I was wrong to think that He is a God who is waiting to punish me – neglecting the fact that he was a God who stepped out of the very throne room of heaven, pulled on flesh, and died just to know me.

He died just to know me.

He wanted a relationship with me, not a relationship where I am constantly looking over my shoulder, trying to hold it all together, but rather He wants a relationship where I sit with Him and enjoy all of who He is. That is the gospel! Jesus did not come to die just so I wouldn’t cuss, or lie to my parents. He came to know me, even in my broken and imperfect humanity. Yes, I know He has come to fix it all and someday I’ll be all fixed up, but that’s not today – and that is okay.

This lesson was continued onward when in just a single moment, the circumstances of life shifted. It was a big shift – one that questioned both my faith and identity. If that situation taught me anything, it was two things. The first, life is unpredictable and while I knew that already, I suppose I just needed to be reminded of it one more time. The second was that because life is unpredictable, you can’t find joy in the circumstances of life. Far too often,  I attach my joy to my circumstances. This is not Kingdom thinking. As a follower of Jesus, I should accept the fact that this life will have hardships and trials. These hardships and trials come in the form of circumstances and as a follower of Jesus, I should place my joy not in the state of my circumstances, but rather in the all-sufficient grace of Jesus. But this is easier said than done. Time and time again, I’ve endured hard circumstances and I feel as if I sound like a broken record player, stating the same thing repeatedly, but this goes back to the fact that I am broken and will not get everything right hundred percent of the time and that is okay.

Continue onward into freshman year and you’ll find both triumph and trials. Hurtful words and encouragement would be what I would find on both the lips of students and professors alike. It wouldn’t be easy. And at times, the hurtful words would be found within my own mind, lies of the enemy begging for my attention and consideration. At times, I would cowardly give in. Letting myself believe that I was not good enough and that I was unable to fulfill the calling in which I believed that Jesus had given me. Some would say that my disability disqualifies me from being a messenger of the gospel, and at times I ashamedly would let them tell me that I am disqualified simply due to a pre-existing condition that I had no control of. I would find myself struggling with my calling, “am I really cut out for this whole ministry thing?” The question would ring over and over in my head and I could hear the enemy laugh as I wrestled with my calling. This is another thing that I feel I keep returning to – struggling to fully embrace the Lord says I am. I’m working on it – working on accepting the fact that I, David, have been called by The Creator of the Universe to be a vocational messenger of The Good News of Jesus.

However, in my struggles to accept my calling, I would find one gem of truth. And that truth is this, vulnerability isn’t reserved for human relationships, is also for your relationship with Jesus. Growing up in the church, I was always taught that all my writings and all my questions had to be driven by truth. And I could not dare ask a man, let alone God himself, “heretical” questions. I would find this truth, in the beginning, the creation of the world.

I would find myself in the book of Genesis, studying the first ever relationship between the mortals and the Immortal. A perfect relationship ruined by a moment of imperfection… Or was it just imperfection? I was always taught that the original sin was a desire to be greater than God. But I’m not sure that’s all it was. If you examine the words of the serpent, you’ll find the lie that Eve would believe. “But the servant said to the woman, “you will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it, your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” (Genesis 3:4 – 5) “you will be like God…” That was a lie. That Eve wasn’t made in the image of God and that she wasn’t his favorite. Oh, that crafty serpent with lace it up in words that our religious minds would miss. We would see that Eve had a desire to be equal with God. I don’t think that was it at all. I think Eve feared that her good and loving father, was withholding from her. That he didn’t live up to who he said he was. I think that’s why she took a bite out of that fruit. I believe that is why she convinced her husband to eat of the fruit, for fear they were missing out on the goodness and that the Lord was withholding something from them. You see it later, when the Lord approaches Adam and Eve, withholding his knowledge of what they had done. He asks, “did you eat of the fruit?” Didn’t he already know? He’s the Knower of All Things. He knew what they eat of the fruit – so why did he ask if they did it. I believe it was a chance for them to be vulnerable with him. And they hid, thus beginning the hiding for all eternity. I wonder what would have been different if even when it simply said, “Yes Lord, I ate of the fruit because I thought you were holding out for me. I thought you weren’t you said you were.” If only we could know…

The lesson that I learned from this, was that my questions the Lord and the writings in my journal don’t always have to be this pristine and perfect enclosure of all the right theology. Yes, my public expression of my theological beliefs need to be correct. But it’s okay to be little messy in my journal. It is okay to tell the Lord that I’m struggling to believe his goodness on some days. It is okay to ask the Lord what he’s doing. Vulnerability is key and walking with the Lord, and not just in human relationships, but also in my relationship with the Divine.

My humanity would also be expressed not on campus, but rather in coming home. I didn’t expect the world to stop when I left. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for quickly everyone would move on. I wanted people to grieve and lament when I left as if I had died. But that would be unrealistic. I would walk in the door on my first-time home, and the normal rush to and from would greet me at the door. Yes, my family did miss me. But just because I had left, didn’t mean that they were sitting around, waiting for me to come home. How narcissistic of me to be. But I would soon learn that behind the narcissism, there was another lesson to be learned. People want to be known and feel like they belong.

A professor would stand in front of the classroom and declare out this truth ever so triumphantly, “Men, you have to make the members of your flock feel like they belong!” My ears would hear this truth but my heart didn’t accept it. Amid an identity crisis, and perhaps the fact that the professor didn’t know my name, I did not want to believe that truth. I wanted to be emotionally sound and at that point, being emotionally sound meant finding a way to prove that truth wrong. I would tell myself, “I don’t care if people know my name.” But I was wrong. I didn’t care until that truth would smack me in the face as I walked in the door of the place I called home.

Why did I have to learn this? Was it for the sake of vulnerability? Was it for the sake of learning the importance of community? No. I do not believe it was for any of these reasons. I believe it was for the same reason I faced feelings of abandonment in the final years of high school. I felt those feelings for the sake of understanding those who walk in those feelings. It is not hard to find a person who longs to be known, just open any social media and you find them. A mom begging for the approval of her friends and she will use her infant child to get it. Or maybe perhaps, it’s the college student who goes on and on of their new relationship – secretly hoping that comments such as, “Cute!” or maybe, “How adorable are you two?” would fill the unending stream of photos of her and her boyfriend. Or maybe the student who brags upon his trip to some foreign country and how he’ll bring aid to the people but not for the sake of bringing aid to the people, but rather bringing aid to his hurting heart. People want to be known and if I, one who follows Christ, wants to minister to these people, I must know what it feels like to be unknown.

Comparison is evil. Some may disagree with me. I suppose it has its good side. And maybe someday, when I am no longer bound to it, I’ll understand why it is a necessity.

Jesus, don’t give me a new perspective, give me healed eyes. I want to see the world how you do. Help me to be no longer bound to comparison. As a pastor and author, Stephen Furtick would once offer, “don’t compare your behind-the-scenes to people’s highlight reel.” May that statement the ever so true in my life.

So, beloved readers, I hope my ramblings make sense and you pull something of value from them. This year has been a roller coaster, to say the least. I have learned so much yet I still have so much to learn. Thank you for reading these words and truths that have shaped my heart. I hope you find rest in peace in the grace of Jesus.

For His Glory,

David