Sometime within the next few weeks, I am going to be sharing my testimony in my lifegroup at my Bible College.
It always starts out the same. "I was born and raised in a Christian home..." Lately, though, I've been rethinking that. Yes, I was raised in church and in Sunday School. I went to a private Christian school, and eventually to youth group in my teen years. I taught Sunday School from the time I should have still been in Sunday School. I was the good Christian girl who didn't go to parties, didn't cause trouble, and didn't even date. I loved Jesus and that was it.
Every year, my college has a "theme". This year's theme is FOLLOW. Dennis, our president, showed us a video and spoke about being a Fan vs. a Follower.
I liked Jesus. I liked church. I liked the Bible. I liked my other do-gooder friends. I was a fan of Christianity.
It wasn't until this past calendar year that I began to realize (without putting it into so many words) that I didn't really know anything. I didn't know the Bible, though I had studied it in classes since I was in Kindergarten, been one of the best at "Sword Drills" in Sunday School, and could rattle off any number of "memory verses" that I had been forced into learning for school on cue. I didn't really know who Jesus was, though I could tell you all of the parables that I had learned from the Donut Man, or anything you wanted to know about His birth, death, or other common Sunday School stories. I had no clue what or who the Holy Spirit was, except that talking about it caused anxiety in me due to an unfortunate, scary fight I once had on the topic of whether or not I was a Christian if I didn't speak in tongues with someone I thought I could respect and look up to. Worst of all, I didn't know God. I prayed when I was worried, sick, or needed something. Once in awhile, I'd actually focus during a worship service and sing the words to God. But that was it.
Then came the semester of all semesters. The stretching of all stretchings. I had three courses, all of which I thought would come easy to me. One of them was Holy Spirit class. The next, Youth Crisis and Intervention. The third, Spiritual Formation 2.
Now, let's get this straight. I'm not a student. Well, I am but I'm not. I hate school. I've always hated school. I hate long classes where I need to attempt to focus for three hours on one subject and one teacher. I hate writing papers. I constantly find myself staring at the blank white Word document wanting to tear my hair out. I don't do well in stressful, testing environments (though I seem to get my best grades on exams....?). I am here because God wants me here. I am NOT here because I necessarily decided one day that I want to torture myself with 12-15 page papers or group projects that should take 30-50 hours outside of class to complete.
Back to last semester. Holy Spirit was the first one to begin changing me. I had a great, meaningful conversation with my current pastor, who is the first pastor I have trusted since I was about 8 years old. He helped to set the record straight on ideas that had been put in my head over my lifetime. Being raised in 4 different Christian denominations simultaneously had kind of had me thinking everything that was right and wrong all at the same time. I began reading the textbook for that class and was completely shocked that I had never really learned ANYTHING about the Holy Spirit in my entire life as a Christian.
Youth Crisis and Intervention was an intensive, meaning an entire course of teaching packed into one week while I continued doing my normal classes. I've had one every semester that I've been here, and they always exhaust me. I figured that because I had worked with some troubled teens over the previous year and a half, that the class wouldn't bother me as they had warned it might. I was wrong. Nothing in the class shocked me...I had heard it all before, but it brought up many things in my past that I had suppressed, forgotten, or just pushed in a box and decided not to deal with. It wrecked me.
The last class, Spiritual Formation 2, was disappointing at first. For my entire first year, and the first half of my second year, I had first been trying to think of ways to get out of, and then got excited for the fact that the class is really based off of the Freedom Sessions program. At first I had been terrified. I didn't want to deal with my past! Then I was super excited to finally do it! That was when we found out that they had revamped the class, completely dropping Freedom Sessions from it.
I walked in there with a bad attitude. And not a little one, a MASSIVELY BAD ATTITUDE. I didn't care anymore. I didn't want to do it. It was officially just another stupid class that I was being forced to take.
I AM AN IDIOT.
I liked Jesus. I liked church. I liked the Bible. I liked my other do-gooder friends. I was a fan of Christianity.
It wasn't until this past calendar year that I began to realize (without putting it into so many words) that I didn't really know anything. I didn't know the Bible, though I had studied it in classes since I was in Kindergarten, been one of the best at "Sword Drills" in Sunday School, and could rattle off any number of "memory verses" that I had been forced into learning for school on cue. I didn't really know who Jesus was, though I could tell you all of the parables that I had learned from the Donut Man, or anything you wanted to know about His birth, death, or other common Sunday School stories. I had no clue what or who the Holy Spirit was, except that talking about it caused anxiety in me due to an unfortunate, scary fight I once had on the topic of whether or not I was a Christian if I didn't speak in tongues with someone I thought I could respect and look up to. Worst of all, I didn't know God. I prayed when I was worried, sick, or needed something. Once in awhile, I'd actually focus during a worship service and sing the words to God. But that was it.
Then came the semester of all semesters. The stretching of all stretchings. I had three courses, all of which I thought would come easy to me. One of them was Holy Spirit class. The next, Youth Crisis and Intervention. The third, Spiritual Formation 2.
Now, let's get this straight. I'm not a student. Well, I am but I'm not. I hate school. I've always hated school. I hate long classes where I need to attempt to focus for three hours on one subject and one teacher. I hate writing papers. I constantly find myself staring at the blank white Word document wanting to tear my hair out. I don't do well in stressful, testing environments (though I seem to get my best grades on exams....?). I am here because God wants me here. I am NOT here because I necessarily decided one day that I want to torture myself with 12-15 page papers or group projects that should take 30-50 hours outside of class to complete.
Back to last semester. Holy Spirit was the first one to begin changing me. I had a great, meaningful conversation with my current pastor, who is the first pastor I have trusted since I was about 8 years old. He helped to set the record straight on ideas that had been put in my head over my lifetime. Being raised in 4 different Christian denominations simultaneously had kind of had me thinking everything that was right and wrong all at the same time. I began reading the textbook for that class and was completely shocked that I had never really learned ANYTHING about the Holy Spirit in my entire life as a Christian.
Youth Crisis and Intervention was an intensive, meaning an entire course of teaching packed into one week while I continued doing my normal classes. I've had one every semester that I've been here, and they always exhaust me. I figured that because I had worked with some troubled teens over the previous year and a half, that the class wouldn't bother me as they had warned it might. I was wrong. Nothing in the class shocked me...I had heard it all before, but it brought up many things in my past that I had suppressed, forgotten, or just pushed in a box and decided not to deal with. It wrecked me.
The last class, Spiritual Formation 2, was disappointing at first. For my entire first year, and the first half of my second year, I had first been trying to think of ways to get out of, and then got excited for the fact that the class is really based off of the Freedom Sessions program. At first I had been terrified. I didn't want to deal with my past! Then I was super excited to finally do it! That was when we found out that they had revamped the class, completely dropping Freedom Sessions from it.
I walked in there with a bad attitude. And not a little one, a MASSIVELY BAD ATTITUDE. I didn't care anymore. I didn't want to do it. It was officially just another stupid class that I was being forced to take.
I AM AN IDIOT.
0 comments:
Post a Comment