Have we been here before?

This past weekend, my wife and I discussed our level of interaction during the day, concluding that it was not enough. I pointed out that I have a good fifteen minutes in the morning during which I eat breakfast, get dressed, and gather my things for the day--during all of which she could interact with me if she woke up about half an hour earlier than has usually her custom since she started law school.

This morning, she got out of bed as I was fixing for myself a bow of cereal. I offered to fix her a bowl, but (with one eye opened) she replied that it was too early for her to eat. So, I ate my breakfast while she sat beside me with one eye opened.

Suddenly, I heard the "whooshing" sound of a LOST flashback. "We've been here before," I said, "only last time, it was in reverse."

Five years ago, when we first got married, I was the one in graduate school and she was the working stiff. She asked me to wake up early enough to eat breakfast with her. I would wake up, but usually felt it was "too early to eat" (granted, this was 7:15 instead of 6:45), and so I would sit silently next to her while she (wide awake) ate her breakfast.

I pointed this out to her this morning. Suddenly (five years later), we understood each other.

When have you seen roles reversed, leading to a greater understanding of another person from earlier in your life?

Curiosity, Anger & Fear - My Testimony March 7

This Sunday, I was given a few minutes during my church's Sunday morning meeting to share about my journey with God. Below is the text of what I shared.

I feel the need to apologize, as the story I’m about to tell you is unfinished. I wish I had an ending to give you, but I’m afraid that hasn’t happened yet. But while I don’t have an ending, I do have an outline for you. I’d like to tell you about my curiosity, anger, and fear.

First, my curiosity. I grew up in church, and I often felt curious and confused. I didn’t understand how what I learned in church lined up with what I learned in school. As an example, I learned in church that the basis of my relationship with God was faith in what Jesus had done, and not in anything I did. On the other hand, in school, I learned that there was a time in history when Christians believed the exact opposite. I wanted to learn where my faith had come from, and why I believed what I believed. In short, I needed to make my faith my own and, as a result, develop my own relationship with God.

As I graduated high school and started college, I learned to read God’s word for myself and apply it to my life. I soon learned that the Christianity I read about in the Bible and the Christianity I had witnessed growing up were not always the same. The God I met in the Bible was gracious beyond what my sin deserved, loving beyond what I could imagine, and cared for me as an individual. I also learned that God has a specific calling for my life, and that He wants me to follow Him by serving others everywhere all the time, and not just at church on Sundays or at college ministry events. I learned to view all of life as an opportunity to glorify God by serving others.

It was this desire to glorify God by serving others that led me to pursue a career in academia. To do so, I had to take on the greatest challenge of my life: graduate school. For those of you unfamiliar with grad school, imagine, over the course of five years, having all of your dignity, physical health, and sanity slowly stripped away.

Life in grad school was harder than I had thought it would be. I knew my studies would be intellectually challenging, but I didn’t expect them to be so emotionally draining. I learned the pain of facing challenges that I didn’t feel strong enough for. I learned that putting my faith in God doesn’t mean that life will be easy. I felt as though God had brought me to a spiritual mountaintop in college, and then, in grad school, crammed me into a dark dank cell. (And that’s quite literal. My office was about the size of a shoebox.) I was often hurried and under pressure to produce results, and I had little time to reflect on what I was learning or to serve others like I had wanted to. I felt disillusioned with my studies, and was sad at my lack of progress in serving others and sharing Christ with my classmates.

I became angry at God.

I did not want to admit my anger. I felt ashamed. I felt like, if I confessed it, there would be no coming back.

I ended up taking my anger out on Amy. I became uncaring and emotionally unresponsive, except for when I was frustrated. I would yell at her for the silliest things, like leaving dirty clothes on the bed or if she got home late from work. I thought that controlling her would somehow appease my anger.

Finally, late into grad school, I confessed my anger to God and to Amy. I wish I could tell you that as soon as I confessed, the clouds parted, the sun shined down on me, and I felt this heavenly sense of freedom. But that’s not what happened. I wasn’t free from my anger at that moment, but somehow the anger didn’t seem to have nearly the weight that it once did. When I confessed, I felt the freedom to slowly begin to slide out from under it.

As a result, I learned that the world doesn’t end when I confess a huge sin. I learned that God doesn’t return my anger with spite. And I learned that God will take the punches from my anger.

Finally, let me tell you a little about my struggle with fear.

Just before finishing grad school, I learned that I have a heart condition called Mitral Valve Prolapse. The short description is that my heart’s mitral valve shakes every time it closes and my heart often feels as though it’s beating twice as fast as it actually is. It’s very distressing, and I often feel nervous and afraid in response to it.

When I learned that I have this condition, I felt very afraid and fragile, like I might break at the slightest touch. This fear has been a struggle, because in many ways, this condition affects me beyond my control, but at the same time, I need to respond to it as best I can. Dealing with this condition has been a lesson about how I cannot control everything in life, but need to turn to God as I respond to what happens to me. It’s difficult not to become angry at God over this, and He’s been very patient as I’ve learned to live with this condition and struggled with my fear and anger as a result.

So, as I said, I cannot offer you an ending. God is still in the process of developing my trust in Him. In spite of my fear and anger, He remains faithful and gracious to me, and does not treat me as my sins deserve. Because of his love, patience, and forgiveness through Christ, I can learn to depend on Him in all circumstances of life.

Thriving or Surviving?

Faculty Commons recently featured a My Ministry Minute by Joseph McRae Mellichamp entitled, "Going With the Flow – Or Following the Call?" He describes how, in hindsight, he had gone through much of his life haphazardly, rather than with intentionality. He says the difference was coming to understand his sense of calling, that he wants it to be said that he "used [his] position, [his] gifts and abilities, and [his] opportunity to impact [his] university and higher education for good and to reach [his] colleagues and students for Jesus."

I couldn't agree more.

I think another way of phrasing the contrast he makes is that it's the difference between thriving and surviving. I cheer every time I watch WALL-E (which is a lot) and hear the captain say, "I'm tired of surviving. I want to LIVE!" (These cheers are usually accompanied by flashbacks of graduate school.)

I hope that, as a professor, I help create opportunities for my students to thrive, and not just present challenges that make them content with survival. I want to help them live intentionally, and not just put more pressure on them to get by with the minimum.

How have you experienced the difference between surviving/going with the flow/getting by and thriving/following the call/progressing? How have you helped others thrive?

(Speaking of surviving, I just realized that I didn't make Tuesday's post an "Undergraduate Corner." Oops! Looks like I owe you one.)

Doubly Marginalized, Part 6: What the Church Can Do

Christians in the university very often feel like outsiders in both their churches and their institutions. In this series, I take a look at the different aspects of this situation of being doubly marginalized.

I'd like to close this series of posts with a few practical thoughts for Christians in the university and their churches. Last time, I focused on how Christians in the university can help each other. Here, I'd like to offer a few practical thoughts on how our local churches can support Christians in the university and encourage us even in everyday conversation and fellowship.

1. Understand that we never really stop working. When we come to church, we try to put the mental processes on hold so that we can fellowship with you, but sometimes inspiration just strikes and we may look like we’re in LaLa-Land. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want to talk to you and wouldn’t welcome your distraction from our distraction to bring us back to focusing on God.
2. Understand that we don’t have “normal jobs.”
3. But at the same time, don’t refer to non-academics as “people in the real world.”
4. Understand that we have to choose our words carefully, and that just because we may articulate our faith differently than you, it doesn’t mean we’re not committed to Scripture.
5. Understand that we see many terms like “pluralism” and “humanism” differently than you do (and very likely use the words differently than you do). I’ll expand on this another time…
6. Approach grad students with sympathy. If a grad student seems to drop off the face of the earth, don’t assume they’ve apostatized; they’re probably buried in dissertation figures. A warm meal is probably more helpful than a sermon about church attendance.
7. The same can be said about new faculty nearing tenure evaluation.
   
8. Don’t imply that theology is superior to other fields of study. I’ll expand on this another time…
9. If you really want to make our day (especially a grad student’s day), ask us what we’re learning in our research. (NOTE: Do not ask, “How is your research going?” or, “How much longer do you have til you finish your dissertation?” See http://www.phdcomics.com/comics/archive.php?comicid=47 for more. Just ask about the content.) If you don't understand, ask us to explain.
   
10. Don't respond to a novel research method or theory with, “Well, that makes sense.” In the academic world, statements like that mean, “That’s so logical, you should have thought of it sooner.”

What else have you found to be helpful encouragement as you pursue your calling in the academic world? What have you found unhelpful?