This story certainly isn't new. Most of it has been told, in one way or another, many times over the past few years as I make my way through the blessings and the fall-out of a liberal arts education. I'm a work in progress, and this is my story as I currently understand it. May God continue to increase my understanding of His wisdom and His Way.
I.
I had all the answers; he had none of the answers. Our friendship was the perfect storm; while I needed certainty and could not tolerate the gray areas of life, he made it his personal mission to expose the gaps in my ideological armor. Ultimately, the friction between us in this area was one of many irreconcilable differences between us that played a part in leading to the darkest years of my life. For a year and a half we did not speak. In the meantime, I grew up, becoming an adult in a fuller sense of the term, and then we were friends again. This time I had lost my answers. I was floating free, embracing doubt as my only truth.
II.
In many ways, I've lived a little bit of everywhere. From growing up in America's heartland to attending graduate school in the far reaches of the Pacific Northwest to my first "real job" in the heart of the South, I have seen it all. Raised under a metaphorical rock and entirely pop-culture illiterate, I moved from podunk South Dakota to a liberal city where the hippie bus is said to have broken down in the '60's to a conservative southern town on the edge of nowhere. It was ideological whiplash, and I began feeling a bit like a chameleon. By the time I arrived at the edge of nowhere just over a year ago, I was an expert at fitting in with most anyone, and yet I fit in with no one. I was floating free, entirely confused and increasingly alone.
III.
I distinctly remember those first few months in Bellingham. Coming off of eight months living at home with my parents and embracing my childhood faith and mindset, I was as "on fire" for God as they come. I wanted desperately to show my new friends Christ and be a light in a dark place.
I kinda failed.
I mean, I was definitely different. Looking back, part of me can't believe they were willing to be friends with me. I was as "home-school kid" as you can get without actually being home schooled. The thing is, though, I've always been a people pleaser with a relentless desire for knowledge and experience and an insatiable need to fit in. By the time I left Bellingham, my faith was more secure and my ideological leanings more liberal.
The best part? I was leaving for the very conservative South.
IV.
I thought I had finally found myself. As I lived among people I came to love like family, I was increasingly confident in my somewhat differing opinions. Maybe, just maybe, I was shedding my chameleon skin. Life was simultaneously exhilarating and exhausting always being the disagreeing one. As I followed blogs, read books, and formed an opinion on all of the issues, I slowly realized that my life was falling apart from the inside out. I was angry. In needing to have an opinion on all of the things, I was unable to tolerate difference. I held onto my new-found certainty tightly, afraid to lose it.
And then God stepped in. Through a few well-timed sermon podcasts from a far-away church, through a well-timed book that spoke to my true identity in Christ, through friends that modeled a Christ-like love, and through learning from more than a couple mistakes, I began to realize my need to let go of my anger. More than that, I realized that my opinions on all of the things had taken the place of my relationship with Jesus. I could get disgruntled about literal readings of 1Timothy 2 with the best of them, but I had forgotten to love the God who inspired those words. I was so worried about what God would and wouldn't allow me to do that I was paralyzed from following Him in the day-to-day.
V.
I'm one confused girl. I tend to rebel against rules and authority figures. I hate being told what to do, and I hate being told "no." I tend to want to trust that people will embrace things like sobriety and self control and modesty of their own volition rather than through the imposition of boundaries and rules. I tend toward a post-modern understanding of the world, where knowing Truth is illusive, at least from our limited perspective. I tend toward automatically disagreeing with absolute statements, and overly Americanized understandings of history and our place in the world irritate me. All of these things make moving in "Bible-belt" social circles a challenging endeavor. Church is often emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually challenging for me. Sometimes I protect myself by checking out, other times I am deeply hurt, other times I react with anger.
The thing of it is, though, I know that I'm wrong about most things. My perspective is hopelessly limited. I am learning to live honestly and with love and grace and peace toward those whose opinions differ, even if I find those opinions repugnant. And I'm learning that life is good when I'm not constantly at war.
VI.
Small group was coming, and the previous week had been entirely too difficult for me. I had the day off work and I was bored out of my mind, so I decided to head over toward small group six hours early. I sat in Dunkin Donuts for a couple hours before making my way to the public library. I read a book, I wrote in my journal, I made some phone calls. And as the slow pace of the afternoon began to restore my sense of peace, I felt compelled to pray. I prayed for my sanity and thanked God for His presence, even when we miss it. I prayed for the people that I would see that evening and the people who wouldn't be there, for all of the groups of believers meeting around the county that night. I prayed that we would be receptive to the Holy Spirit, and that He would guard us from pride and anger.
Nothing big happened. But pride and anger and restlessness also didn't happen. God was with me, and I knew it. All through that evening He was there, giving me grace. That wasn't the beginning and it certainly isn't the end, but it was one moment in my journey of sanctification, one beautiful example of what it means for me to follow Christ in the mundane.
Praise be to His name.
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