9 Hours Til Kickoff

I can't begin to put words to the sheer giddiness and excitement I feel about tomorrow, err, later today. In a turn of amazing grace and luck my good buddy Andy got us two tickets to this year's UT-Oklahoma game. As I sit and try to contain myself, it's hard for me to not contextualize the parallels in my life right now.

This is actually the first time I've been to this amazing circus of a game and needless to say, it's exhilarating. We went to the State Fair today and the atmosphere was thick with excitement, anticipation and the smell of every fried food ever conceived by man. Everyone here seems to be in a sort of calm trance before the storm. I can't help but feel a little of that myself in my personal life. I remember when I told Jonathan (the director of the internship I'm currently serving in) all the things God had 'taken out' of my life in the months prior to me joining the internship, he made the analogy of an archer drawing on the string of his bow. At one distance, it's not too difficult to draw the string back and release, but the more you draw on that string, the more tension you build and obviously the more speed and distance the arrow covers. For some time I was a little bitter and bent out of shape at God, Jonathan, my friends, my roommates, my old job, my neighbors, my post man, my high school counselor, my neighbor's dog and just about anyone and everyone else I had come into contact with in the last 26 years. Because I felt like somehow I had missed out. Somehow I had missed out and it was everyone's fault. Somehow I had missed out on that awesome career, that awesome girlfriend, that awesome life. But as I let more and more stuff slip out of my life, God has been faithful to replace those things with more amazing opportunities and more amazing responsibilities I could have only imagined a few months ago.

Last week Jonathan let me have some creative control and direction with our campus ministry at UT. I was honored and excited at the same time. A few days after that, he offered me the opportunity to speak at our next service while he goes out of town. It took me a little bit to realize that I am effectively 'living my dream.' For the last three years I have been praying, bribing and pleading with God to allow me to be a part of full time ministry in almost any capacity, but specifically with youth and college aged students—not that I necessarily adore the 14 hour days, not that I enjoy this perpetual feeling of 'what am I forgetting?' not even that I like the stress of trying to come up with some semi-entertaining material to hold a college audience captive for about 30 minutes. But I genuinely, truly love pouring into people in that age group—I'll save the details for some other time, but that has honestly been my heart for about three years now. And the opportunity to do that at UT—the greatest school in the world?! I can't begin to put words to the sheer giddiness and excitement I feel about this opportunity. I'm not playing in any grand arena—we meet at The Union in front of a Wendy's and next to a Taco Bell, but the opportunity to speak into the lives of college kids at the greatest school on the planet? Yeah I get a little psyched about that. So enjoy the calm before the storm my friends, enjoy the corn dogs, the friend Oreos and fried ribs. Tomorrow is Game Day and as long as I've been a fan, my God has always shown up and done something amazing. Come along, let's watch Him run up the score. Blessings.

My God is Not a Bully

I've actually had a ton of things brewing in my mind and heart as of late, just not any time to put these things on paper. But for the sake of time, and because I have a 13 hour day tomorrow, I'll make a half-hearted attempt at being brief.

I guess the biggest issue I've had to come to wrap my mind around lately is that the past is gone. I know a lot of people realize this and it might seem a somewhat non-issue to them, but to me, especially as of late, it seems like a brand new revelation. I came into this internship with the thought that I would grow a little, learn a little and maybe grow a beard and in 10 months I would just come back to find my neatly planned life waiting for me. Like a song that you just put on pause and come back to when you're ready to finish it. The more I go through my hours, days and weeks, the more I realize this is just not so. Not so at all. In fact, I think this is why Paul said to forget the past and reach for what was ahead. As I try to hold on to the mementos of my past life, I realize more and more that in 10 months, I'll come out of my self-induced monastery and life will have continued on without me. Friends will be married, friends will be promoted, and some friends will be gone. I won't lie and pretend like this doesn't scare me at all, because it does. But I'm learning to become more and more comfortable with the idea—or at least to tolerate it a little bit more. Baby steps. Kinda like how you tolerate the idea that you need a vaccine, even if it comes in the form of a cold, piercing, jagged piece of steel. Seems the more mature you become, the less and less the idea of a needle ought to scare you. Sometimes I wish my maturity would catch up to my logic.

But something is different. In me. The more and more I fret about it, the more my logic leads me to realize that I really only have two options: live in nostalgia and longing for what is gone or learn to develop a genuine, palatable excitement for what the next 9 months will bring and tackle it like a short chubby kid trying to tackle the varsity running back—probably very clumsily and definitely with some pain, but a heck of a story to tell at some point down the road.

I realize a lot of what I wished for three months ago may never be there again. And I don't want to be bitter about. I don't want to be sad about it. I don't want to cry about it. Even though all these emotions take their turns at attempting to beat down my heart, I know God has something amazing in store somewhere down the road. As one of my intern buddies pointed out today—my God is not a bully. If he allows something to slip out of my life, I can only believe he's also creating room for something more amazing to make its way in. So I thank my God that he's not a bully that takes my lunch money and laughs in my face. He's not a forgetful God that he would overlook me. And he's not a man that he should lie to me. When he promises me that when I delight myself in him he'll give me the desires of my heart, I know he'll deliver. When he promises me provision, I know he'll send it. When he promises me an easier load to carry when I yoke myself to him, I know he'll make good. And when he promises me he'll never leave me, he'll never forget about me—I know he'll show up. Why? Because my God is not a bully that he would promise me the stars and the sand and then decide it was all a mean, cruel joke. So come with me. Pray with me. Cheer with me. Praise with me. And watch my God put on a show.