I think often of how certain events in my life don't seem to make sense, yet somehow they connect like puzzle pieces in ways I never expected. It happens often over the course of several years. All my journals are proof of this, and that is why I hold on to them, even the embarrassing ones :)
I meet and talk to a lot of people who feel discouraged that so many of their prayers go unanswered. I blame the "fast" society that we live in, where everything is instantaneous. You don't even have to get out of your car to return library books anymore (at least not in my home town, you don't). We're so used to -- entitled, even -- to having the things we want happen when we want them to, and God forbid we have to be patient, well, then maybe it just isn't worth it (yes, I realize the irony that this is coming from me, the most impatient person in the world. I accept this. What can I say, I am a work in progress!).
When I first became a Christian three years ago, I wrestled with the whole "sharing your faith" (or whatever you want to call it) aspect of it. I didn't understand it. I mean, we all know and despise bible thumpers. I grew up Jewish, I have been thumped by many a bible in my time. But I misunderstood the concept. It's not about converting people. It's about sharing a message of hope, but only with those who are willing and ready to hear it.
I naturally assumed this would be my worst struggle with Leadership Training in Colorado this summer. I knew it would be uncomfortable. But then, in March of my senior year, I ended a destructive relationship I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I had to be broken -- I knew that's what God was doing -- to understand "Oh, okay, so this message of hope that I'm supposed to be preaching actually has some purpose to it." I mean, why go through your life hating yourself, feeling worthless because the guy you love hurts you and is now with someone else, when you can survive and thrive instead? Not really a complicated choice, is it? Well, it was when I realized that finding my purpose means falling apart first. Only Jesus is the answer for the healing I needed. I don't care if people disagree with me. I'm still gonna offer it anyway, the same way other people would recommend counseling, ice cream, and Oprah.
So the evangelism training for LT became less of a big deal than it was before; instead, healing was my top priority. And, lo and behold, sharing my faith became easier, because I had motivation for it that was more genuine than simply "I'm a Christian and I have to do this." Broken people are the best ministers to other broken people, I think. And so far, I think it's quite effective. As I said, I'm not on a mission to convert anybody. I'm just sharing what I'm learning, and how it's changing my life for the better.
So fast forward to this fall semester: I surprised myself by voluntarily participating in my church's outreach program. We basically go around surveying people about their spiritual beliefs (if they want to). We've had some really good conversations so far. If nothing else, we've proven that not all Christians have an agenda to boost the number of congregants in their churches and put more money in the collection plate.
Anyway...long story short...it is because of my willingness to push through the awkwardness of talking to strangers in order to share a valuable message that I was in the student center and ran into an old friend...and old friend who, to my great shock, actually ended up becoming more than just a friend...and I am finally starting to remember what happiness feels like again. God has blessed me so much. I don't deserve it, but I am so grateful.
But as rewarding as this journey has been, it didn't happen without unintentionally causing pain to someone else. Someone I still deeply care about, even if he no longer believes it. He has no idea how truly sorry I am. But I am praying that God does healing in his journey too, and someday in the future, all the roads will meet and this craziness of life will actually make some sense.
:) love you!
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