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| I am getting ready to graduate in a little over 2 months. I never thought I would be so ready to get out of college and get on with the rest of my life.
When I was a freshman I was lucky enough to be put into a dorm that was all juniors and seniors. I remember hearing all of the guys on my hall talk about how ready they were to get out into the real world. I remember thinking they were all very silly. Why would you want to leave college? You have freedom. You don’t have any responsibilities. You don’t have a curfew. However, this semester has made me realize how ready I am to get out of here and take to the world.
I honestly feel like a completely different person than I was when I first came to North Greenville. I feel like my years at North Greenville have sucked the idealism out of me and turned me into a cynic. I am currently listening to Ginny Owens sing “If You Want Me To”, and I think she captures a little of how I’m feeling now:
‘Cause I'm not who I was
When I took my first step
And I'm clinging to the promise You're not through with me yet
I am trying to remember who I was my freshman year of college. The world was a lot simpler back then. I was surrounded by these spiritual leaders that seemed to have it all together, and every single one seemed to care about me and invested time in getting to know me. I remember my roommate, Luke Tolbert, seemed godlike to me. I knew he had it all together, and I knew that when I was a senior like him I would have it all together as well.
However, here I am, a senior about to embark into the great unknown and I am definitely leaving college a more confused and cynical person than when I entered. I feel like I failed Luke and all the other guys that seemed to care so much about me my first two years here. I talked to Luke the other day and he told me it was just a part of maturing. He said as you mature you begin to realize that no one has it all together, and that you will never have it all together.
However, if this is maturation then I want nothing to do with it. I wish I could go back to my freshman and sophomore years when I was so excited about life. Back then all that seemed to matter was my relationship with Christ, and I wanted to share it with everyone. I spoke more openly of my relationship with Christ and my faith was much more child-like.
Back in the good old days I used to wonder if little girls had crushes on Jesus when He was a little boy. I used to wonder if there would be Dr. Pepper and chicken teriyaki in heaven. I used to wonder if Jesus enjoyed climbing trees. Those thoughts seem quite childish now, but I desperately wish I could go back to those days.
Back then I had not yet experienced poverty first hand in Africa, I had not felt heartbreak, and I had not read so many books. I think that’s what has changed me though. Those things have turned me into a cynical Christian. I’m sick of it. I have begun to realize that cynicism accomplishes nothing except to create more cynics.
So as I finish my career as an undergraduate I will try to find my way back to my child-like faith. I will once again wonder if Jesus ever flew when He was by Himself. My motto back then was “Always Look On The Brightside of Life”. I still think that is a good motto.
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| This Friday is what we Christians have deemed Good Friday. It’s honestly a little odd to me that we call it “Good” Friday. If you look at the events of that Friday, not much good seems to happen. Christ was betrayed, tortured, and killed by His own people. The few days following this Friday don’t seem to be all that “good” either. Christ’s disciples were left without a leader wondering what to do next.
If I were making a movie about the life of Christ I would probably throw in a Lostish type montage during this part of the movie. I would throw in James Taylor’s Fire and Rain in over the movie while I showed the disciples contemplating what they were going to do now that the mission they had been concentrating on for 3 years had disappeared. I would have a shot of Pilate quietly sitting in his room, wondering if he had made the right choice. I would show the spot where Judas killed himself, the rope still hanging on the tree. I would show Peter by himself, feeling horrible because he denied ever knowing his best Friend. Mary would be in a locked room grieving by herself. It would be a good montage, and after it was over I would cut to Mary Magdalene walking to the grave on that Sunday morning and discovering that Jesus was alive.
That’s the thing about movies, though. You can throw a sad montage in and then show everyone living happily ever after. Life isn’t like that. Life is often long and hard. Relationships don’t work out the way you want them to, fathers don’t act like fathers should, and grandparents lose legs and go through unspeakable pain. I’m often left standing here asking God what He’s up to. You don’t know how many times I’ve prayed to God that I could snap my fingers and Coldplay’s Fix You would fade in and after the song was over all the problems of the world would be solved: sad montage and then cut to the happy part. That’s how the movies do it. However, it’s not like that for us and it wasn’t like that for the disciples. Those three days after Jesus died were probably some of the longest days of their lives. They didn’t have James Taylor to comfort them and make the time go by faster. They were left wondering if they had wasted their time and what they were going to tell the families they had left behind.
We call it Good Friday because of the events that followed that day. Had the painful events of that Friday never occurred, the Sunday that followed would have been just another Sunday. Pain often turns out to be “good”. That Friday had to happen so we could be here 2,000 years later celebrating the Sunday that followed.
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| There’s this old hymn by Charles Wesley that Derek Webb and Sandra MacCraken redid a few years ago called “Come Thou Long Expected Jesus.” Here’s a small excerpt:
Hope of all the nations Thou art
Dear Desire of every nation
Joy of every longing heart
In a little over 24 hours I will be getting on a plane and heading to Budapest,, Hungary. I find it a little odd because my first international mission trip was to a third world country and now I’m going to one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But my mother made the observation the other day that the one thing the two countries have in common is a need for a Savior.
In Uganda the people have close to nothing, so when they hear that Jesus can take care of them they accept Him pretty quickly. I have a feeling that the Hungarians won’t be as receptive. They have everything they need and more. They have iPods, cell phones, and cigarettes.
I don’t think the success of this (or any) mission trip can be measured in how many people come to Christ. If no one comes to Christ during this trip I think it will be okay. We’re going to help the Hungarians by teaching them English and by helping some of them pass the test you have to take to immigrate to America. I think if we can help make just one person’s life a little better then all this will be worth it.
Initial thoughts/feelings/prayer requests:
Stressed: There’s too much to do before I go. I don’t have time to go away for a week. There’s far too much to do when I get back.
Inadequate: I’m going to be teaching English. I don’t know how good of a teacher I am.
Nervous: They smoke a lot in Hungary. Smoke doesn’t like me.
Hypocritical: I’m going to tell the people of Hungary about the Gospel that I have such a hard time believing. I’ll tell them that Jesus is the only way to find true satisfaction when I look for satisfaction in movies and other worldly possessions. I’m going to tell them that it’s better when we love each other when I have such a hard time not being sarcastic and degrading. I’ll tell them that Jesus came to save them from their sins and fears when I worry about where I’m going to be 5 years from now.
But I’m really glad that God can use me despite my humanity.
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| Well, folks. It's here. It's the night I've been anxiously awaiting ever since Jack Nicholson read the winner of last year's Best Picture award. It's the kind of night that dreams are made out of. It's the Super Bowl of cinema. It's rumored to be well over 4 hours this year, but you won't hear me complaining. | | |
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