hypothetical little brother

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday on how both of us just wanted to drop our overload of responsibilities and just do something for ourselves - community service, travel the world, whatever.  (In my case, it was "had wanted to"...and I'm going to try really hard not to make the same mistake if and when I re-enroll).

In any case, conversation turned to a few people with whom we both served with in a student group two years ago, people we sorely missed.  This student group that my friend runs is now quite large, at least its executive board - and we both felt that what it gained in ability to do things, it lost in intimacy.

In my case, I woke up a few mornings ago really, really missing the person who once referred to me as her "hypothetical little brother."  This was during Meiklejohn orientation of my junior year.  I had no idea what I was doing, where my group was, where to sit, etc.  And then I heard "Hey Jon!"  And instantly, I knew everything was going to be okay.  I still remember the dress she was wearing (light pink, white, and brown, I think), and whenever I feel down, I just have to bring up that image of her to make me feel happy.

I've always felt closer to older people, girls especially, something I've come to call the "older sister complex."  To go way back, I actually think this has its roots in elementary school.  When I was in fifth grade (and I cannot believe I'm actually writing this), I once had a clear bottle of apple juice that I took out to drink on the bus on the way home.  What is the color of apple juice?  And what does that look like to immature little kids?  Exactly.

Instantly, a chorus of "OHMYGOD IS THAT PEE?" swelled around me, and to be honest, I no longer remember my reaction, but it was probably bewildered, scared, and hurt.  What I do remember is a sixth-grade girl standing up and yelling "shut up, you guys, it's just apple juice!"  I no longer remember her name, what she looked like, or what we talked about afterward (or even if we did), but that incident stands out in my mind clear as day.

Ever since then, older girls have very often taken on the "older sister" mentality for me - given me advice, listen to me rant, talk with me and make things okay.  The only problem is that I can be very clingy, both physically and emotionally (something I'm really trying to work on/pray about).  But back to my friend at Meiklejohn orientation.  Afterward, we sat down for lunch at a pizza place while we talked about our upcoming semesters, and how apprehensive I was for med school.  She didn't lecture me, and gave me a little advice, but more importantly, she made me feel happy, and good about myself - that whatever I chose to do was the right thing, and she had no doubts that I would do it well.  Maybe med school wasn't the right path for me.  Maybe science in general wasn't.  But that was okay.  And if I eventually decided I wanted to go to med school, there were plenty of options, and she would always be there for me.  I'm pretty sure we ended the conversation on the topic of palm-reading and heart lines, and I walked out reassured...something that I wouldn't begin to really feel again until a few months ago.

As I told my friend (the one running the student group) yesterday, I know that the two of us aren't going to be best friends, and she's not going to pour her life story out to me, even if I do it to her (I'll talk about reciprocity in a future post).  And that's okay.  We're still friends, and if I, or anyone else, ever need a "consult," she will be there and make things good again as only she can - to "just take deep breaths...you'll be fine; you're very qualified."

defeating demons, giving praise

It's been one year since my ability to control my thoughts fell apart. I'm now sitting in the same dining hall that brings it all back - the tortured nights trying to do work, scenarios crashing together one after another in my head. I'm here one last time to leave it all behind, to move on and live.

Let me explain. In the fall of my senior year, I was fired up to come back to campus, especially to start my immediate calling of serving faithfully as a one-on-one leader. A good friend had reminded me that summer that one-on-ones are about sharing lives and stories, not necessarily about finding the right things to say or questions to ask. That summer, I also met a wonderful pastor who told me that even if I couldn't discern my life calling at the moment, I could still do my immediate callings that were perhaps smaller in scope, but no less important. Armed with this knowledge and confidence, I plunged in.

As the semester progressed, I grew more disillusioned with fellowship, and tired of the responsibilities I had to fulfill. When Fall Conference came around, I was ready for a break. The last night of the conference, I spent the night in the dining hall reading for class. I was sitting opposite a dear friend who I knew was also struggling with similar issues. As dawn approached, she began to pour her heart out. I had no idea what to say - all I knew was that someone had hurt, and was hurting, my friend, and I would kill - or die - to make that pain stop. I did the only thing I knew how - give advice. The last thing I remember was my friend choking back sobs as we parted ways.

That scene - and how even in my utter powerlessness, I had managed to not be there for her - haunted me in the weeks after. I've always prided myself on my ability to take care of other people, and almost nothing gets me more angry than when people - or I - hurt my friends. I couldn't understand why people who professed to be Christian could not live like one - would act so ruthless and hurtful. From there, it was only a matter of time before my thoughts spiraled out of control. Violent, irrational scenarios of my friendships blowing up, confrontations with people I needed to set straight, and so on. I had no foundation in faith - no reason to believe anymore.

Even after months of therapy, I still had thoughts of throwing myself into the lake at this year's conference. If I couldn't get rid of my demons, I would freeze them in place and end it at the ultimate personification of everything I felt was wrong with our fellowship, with Christianity, with me, and with God. Tonight, though, as I sit here, I know two things: God loves me even when I can't love myself and will continue to break down my idols to reveal how beautiful He is; and that He is more powerful than any of my idols that became demons, and that when I keep my eyes open in pondering, daring faith, God will indeed show us what He can do. For this, I rest secure in His promise fulfilled of joyous judgement through Jesus, and will "join with the earth and...give my praise to You."

follow the instructions as directed

...and you will not feel like a huge idiot after a whole day wasted trying to do something really simple.  I'm sure I could tie this into a "follow Christ and everything will be awesome" analogy, except that 1) that's not true, even most of the time, and 2) I'm too excited about changing the colors of my newly-sync-ed calendars.

My next post will expand on the first point, though - it's already in draft mode, so should be up soon.

Read and following instructions, guys (and girls)!