It was a beating.
2018 was without question the most difficult of my life. For many reasons.
One year ago, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what my life was going to look like around this time. Boy was I wrong. I thought that by now I'd be engaged, have a job for next year, have my graduate school plans figured out, and that I wouldn't spend part of New Year's Eve crying in my bedroom.
None of those turned out to be true.
This last semester was the most difficult of my collegiate career, due to the severity of the course load, the complete lack of free time, the multitude of mistakes that I made that hurt people I care about, and the unshakeable suspicion that I was slowly failing at everything I put my mind to. I spread myself thinner than ever before, possibly in attempts to distract myself from the mounting unrest inside me.
2018 was a year of unspeakable pain. And doubt. And frustration. And wrestling. And questions. And worry.
Sorry if you were just expecting a bunch of fun pictures with friends from the past twelve months.
My main takeaway from this year has been the answers to two questions that kept popping up in my life, which I am going to personify in (a dramatized version of) a conversation that I'm pretty sure I had with God this week.
I look at Jesus. I shoot him an accusing look. I'm frustrated with the way my life looks, I'm tired of hurting, and I want to point the finger. He calmly meets my eye, and I'm pretty sure we're thinking the same thing. He and I both know that it's really myself that I'm most fed-up with. I lower my gaze, accepting a defeated posture. Shoulders rounded. Head bowed. I address the ground when I finally find the courage to speak.
"I've messed up so much. I've wasted the gifts you've given me. I haven't been able to put you first. I've caused so much pain to others. I've done just about everything wrong. All I ever wanted was to live for you, and I managed to screw that up at every turn. Am I even worthy to be called your son any more?" He laughs, not unkindly, and pauses before his answer.
"Absolutely not."
The answer has its intended effect. My head shoots up, flashing him a look of hurt. He again meets my gaze, his eyes betraying the smile he's attempting to hide. I'm slow to get the joke."Ask your next question," he says.
"But . . . Do you still love me anyway?" The smile breaks free.
"Absolutely."The Gospel is beautiful in its simplicity, isn't it? It seems that God is in the habit of transforming messes into something beautiful. Just like he did with 2018.
2018 was a year of unspeakable pain. But it was also a year of incredible joy. Funny how pain can make us forget that part. In 2018, I was blessed with innumerable moments that I know were gifts from God - tiny peaks into the kingdom that he has planned for this world. I participated in the greatest Sing Song act with the greatest club at ACU. I was entrusted to work at Highland in Abilene with some of the most gifted and loving people I've ever met. I got to work with an incredibly talented, impactful, and encouraging preacher (looking at you Jonathan). I was gifted a boss and mentor that is endlessly encouraging, constantly inspiring, and tirelessly loving (looking at you Zane). I gained a second sister who loves fiercely and picked me up on some very low days, probably without even realizing it, because she's just that kind of person (looking at you Deja). I was reminded time and again that I have two incredible parents who love me and are proud of me no matter what. I shared some incredible moments with my oldest friend (looking at you Ashley) - the one rising to the top of the memory would be her giving me the honor of hooding her at graduation. I received further advice, encouragement, instruction, inspiration, and love from a trusted mentor and dear friend (looking at you Greg). I got to see God's breathtaking creation from the top of a mountain for the first time in my life with my best friend at my elbow. I got to work at a church that I love with students that I love. I got to be included in some of the best and worst moments of their lives. I got to be inspired by their enormous amounts of strength displayed in their vulnerability and leadership (looking at you Lucas, Josh, Davis, Colin, and many others). I got to work with two of the greatest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing (looking at you Wes and Leanne). During my internship, I got to chat (semi-)weekly with a gifted preacher, a powerful advocate for the powerless, and someone I'm lucky to consider a friend (looking at you Collin). I got to feel the support of some of the finest men this world has to offer during the hardest time of my life (looking at you Kaman, Mason, JT, Christian, Mason, Jacob, Dawson, Aaron, and many others). I made a lot of fond memories with friends well past my bedtime, knowing full well I'd regret my lack of sleep in the morning (looking at you Sleep Skippers Club). I was encouraged relentlessly by multiple professors who I am quite confident do not read this blog but who I will shout out anyway (looking at you John, Rodney, Richard, Robert, and Houston). I started a blog with one of my dearest friends and have been endlessly blessed because of it. I invested deeper into my small group and was rewarded weekly with the kindness, joy, and peace they constantly brought (looking at you Ultimate DIG Group, but especially Craig and BA). I acquired a new and very strange nickname from one of the kindest and most joyful people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing ("precious gac" if you're wondering, apparently it's a kind of fruit). I could go on. And I wish I could. There are so many more who weren't named here that made my year incredible.
Endless examples of God's faithfulness. This year I've learned I'm a mess only a Father could love. And boy does he love me well. That monster of a paragraph is evidence enough. I'm entering 2019 immensely grateful for the God who loves in very real and observable ways. I look forward to seeing how God will thwart even my best attempts to ruin his plan for my life in the coming year.
But as surely as God is faithful, our message to you is not “Yes” and “No.” For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, who was preached among you by us—by me and Silas and Timothy—was not “Yes” and “No,” but in him it has always been “Yes.” For no matter how many promises God has made, they are “Yes” in Christ. And so through him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God. - 2 Corinthians 1:18-20Nothing left to say except Amen.
~RJS~
