Letters

Life, I think, can be a little cruel. In the midst of failed expectations, trying (read: challenging) relationships, and a good honest look at your own flaws, it can be difficult to see that the seeds sown even in your most fragile and broken moments do, in fact, grow and one day blossom.

For me, life is nothing like I expected it to be right now. If I had it my way I'd be the youth pastor of a small church somewhere a little further south, living cheaply, and hammering away at the undergrad debt. But that, it seems, is not my story. And the twists and turns left me stressed and wounded. Desperate for some peace, I have transplanted down to GR to be among people who first introduced me to the idea that not only am I loved, but liked. Drama, it seems, has a way of finding me, though, and some bizarre, off the wall, things have happened in the past two weeks that have left me, and a couple close friends, scratching our heads in bewilderment.

While I'm not struggling at all with whether or not the accusations and events have good reason, I do feel a bit worn and attacked. I know that my integrity is something that God is pleased with. Am I perfect? Far from it. But I strive to take my roll as one who has been loved to love you and others... seriously.

In what seems to be "ordained" timing, I received a letter from a student I had during my internship days. Its contents floored me as I begun to realize, even on a small scale, the ways in which God used me that year. It's been a few days since I got the letter and I still sit, baffled. I can recall countless conversations with this student as they wrestled through situations and wounds NO human should ever have to encounter. I remember how helpless I felt; how often times I sat there in my car, listening and driving, speechless and at the same time, resisting the urge to hand out pat answers and niceties that were more for my own comfort than theirs.

I remember flopped teachings and missed phone calls. I remember feeling inadequate and naked. I remember being frustrated and confused. I remember not knowing where to find the verse that talks about this, or the time I completely botched presenting the gospel... (it was rough, guys!)

I've failed quite a few things with my students in my young, waiting to launch, "career."

They, however, seem to remember other things. They remember how I sat there and listened attentively. How I encouraged them to never give up, that they could achieve their dreams. They remember the birthday cakes, pizza, and the ridiculous karaoke jams in my car that had but one rule: you had to sound absolutely horrible.

It's interesting to me that my friend, the a now young adult, didn't need perfection from me. They didn't need the exact address of every verse I mentioned, they didn't need me to solve their deepest, darkest life issues (though we did cover some of those!), or be the super-funny youth leader. Instead, what they needed most was someone to be present. Someone who would drive 30 minutes to pick them up and 30 minutes to take them home. They needed to be loved and to have someone who believed that not only that would they survive, but go on to do wonderful things, things that they dream of. And they needed to know that even when they blew it (and I mean really blew it) this love and belief continued on.

So maybe I can be. Maybe where I am right now, in all my confusion and struggles and flaws, is just fine. Maybe, juuuust maybe, God had something to do with the timing of that letter to remind me to not give up on my own dreams.

And you know what? It's amazing what a simple, short letter can do for someone. Thank God for child-like faith!