Meet the Man

Everyone, meet Caleb.

This post may be late by a few months (if you're counting when we became an item officially in mid-August), but it's here nonetheless. This blog has, sadly, been grossly neglected due to too much homework and not enough time. However, the journey of my life continues to be one that God is blessing immeasurably, and ideally He will continue to use it for His glory.

I'll save the more minute details of how this all began for a later, more in-depth post, but for now, here is our story...

It was during the spring term of 2016 when some friends and fellow students hosted a barn dance one Friday evening as our weekly Christian Fellowship club meeting. Caleb and I had interacted a little bit off and on before this point, through intramural sports and the Christian Fellowship club here at school, but our conversations were short, as he was a very quiet guy and I always felt like I babbled too much. I talk too much sometimes as it is, but the guy was always better at listening than talking, it seemed. When he did talk, though, he wasted no words - he seemed to gush wisdom.

Maybe I was just nervous.

Anyways, back to the barn dance. We learned a few line dances after dinner, and Caleb and I spent the time between dances chatting; we were slowly becoming more comfortable with each other. We talked about school, our church families, our siblings and our parents, pets...and cars. He can talk for hours about cars.

Finally, the call came. "Everyone, find a partner!"

Our conversation broke off abruptly as we glanced around. Everyone had paired off fairly quickly, it seemed, so it wasn't long before we awkwardly made eye contact.

"Well," My attempt at a giggle probably sounded more like a squeak than anything. "I guess we're partners, huh?"

He chuckled. He has a wonderfully low voice.

"I guess so."

And so the evening passed, learning some simple Western swing-style dance moves, discovering how much I didn't like to follow his lead, how I just wanted to know what would come next and be in control of it all! Amazing how God teaches us lessons in the simplest of things, isn't it? But we enjoyed the evening immensely, and I later apologized for hogging him as a partner all night. His reply? "Well...I wasn't complaining."

The rest of spring term passed in a crazy buzz of classes, playing volleyball after dinner with friends, tests and exams (studying for EMT certification is hard work!), prepping for work that summer...and finding myself undeniably attracted to this wise, quiet, strong young man with his deep, rumbling voice.

After volleyball in the evenings, Caleb and I would talk as we walked back to the parking lot. Our conversations would go later and later, getting better and better, and consequently deeper and deeper. I remember going home for a weekend and telling my parents, "So, there's this guy I like..." I knew he liked me back to an extent, but I was given no overtly special treatment; he was always respectful, kind, patient towards me. But he was that way with everyone. I admired and deeply respected his steady strength, his quiet wisdom, his love for Christ and the burning in his soul to know his Savior. Did he see me the way I saw him?

I still remember the evening we sat on the curb in that spring coolness that hinted at the coming warmth of summer. And he said - not "I love you." Sorry to all my hopelessly romantic friends - but that he admired me, respected me, and not just because he respected everyone. He saw me...and I stood out to him.

And you know what kills me about this story?

I can't remember how he said it. For the life of me. Oh well. I think I'm over it.

We wrote letters back and forth all summer. I worked in the desert fighting fires, "breaking hearts and saving babies" (I can explain that quote at a later date.) He worked 5 hours away, corralling kids of all ages at a summer camp.

He talked to my dad, my dad talked to me. I opened his letters one week to find him asking me, ever so eloquently, if I would take the next step with him in pursuing Christ and each other in life. Of course, I said yes. We planned a date so we could finally see each other after a month and a half apart, and I was sent to Arizona and Utah on a fire assignment. Lesson to be learned when you work in fire...if you plan something for the weekend, you'll get a fire to put out and plans will need to be cancelled.

I came back, exhausted from working 14 consecutive 12-16 hour days in a row and riding hundreds of miles in a 15-year-old type 4 fire engine with no air conditioning through Utah, Nevada, and eastern Oregon. We finally got to see each other after two months apart and he asked me, in person, if I would be his.

Of course, I said yes.

The rest of the summer flew by. School started back up, and now we're both as busy as ever. I'm still learning so much - about life, about God, about myself and about this amazing young man who saw me, of all people, and decided he wanted to pursue me.

God has been pouring out His blessings on me these last few months, and I have been learning some very valuable, even though hard, lessons. But God is good, and He is sustaining me through it all.

So, that is our story...so far. I have a feeling there will be many more pages to add in the future! I can, however, say that it was not one of those "hit by the freight train of love" things. It was no sudden, abrupt, "oh-my-goodness-I-like-you" kind of thing. It came gently, softly, slowly, and I am thankful. Whatever happens next, I know it will be part of God's plan for us.

By the Grace of God,
Alex N.

Breaking Free

I have always struggled with my imperfection. I know in my mind that no one is perfect, that we all fall short of the mark...but my heart still wishes I was perfect, like all the other “perfect” people out there. I worry about the way others perceive me, I worry about “looking Christian,” I worry about being cool and accepted by my peers, I worry about fitting in.

Raise your hand if you’re ever fallen for that lie before.

And it is a lie, trust me. The beginning of Romans 12:1 says “Do not be conformed to this world.” The verse goes on, but even without that context, the meaning of this phrase is simple. While that topic is big enough for more lengthy discussion, it proves the point. Fitting in isn’t the point.

If we think of church, what comes to mind? Fun summer camps, memorizing Bible verses, singing songs, nodding in agreement to well-spoken sermons? Perfect people displaying their perfect lives?

Wrong.

In Matthew 9:11-12, the Pharisees see Jesus eating with his disciples and a plethora of others; tax collectors are among them. “And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, ‘Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?’ But when he heard it, he [he being Jesus] said, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.’” Jesus didn’t come to congratulate the well-off, my friends. He came to heal the sick, to mend the broken.

The church isn’t a museum; it’s a hospital. And the beautiful thing is, we are all in different stages in our healing, in our sickness, in our “being made well.” We like to pretend we have it all together, that nothing is wrong, but in reality...we are all there to see the same doctor. So why, then, do we allow ourselves to be blindsided by the enemy’s lie that we can never be good enough?

C.S. Lewis wrote about the “Law of Human Nature” in his book Mere Christianity. The idea is that we have written into us a standard of behavior that we know we should follow. It’s why we have excuses for being late, for forgetting important engagements, it’s the guilt we feel whenever we “miss the mark” of whatever ingrained standards we have written on our human souls. This is the crux of the matter; we know we aren’t good enough, that we can never be good enough to meet that standard.

The enemy is on the offense in the game of life at all times; his focus is to attack us in any way possible, no matter how subtle or blatant the attack must be, and often the very first place he attacks, at least in my own experience, is at my identity, at who I am. This is where I always felt (and still sometimes feel) so shaky in my walk with Christ; it’s when I forget who I am in Christ that the enemy gains a foothold in my mind and begins bringing to light all of my failures and shortcomings.

This is when the glory of God comes into play. He has paid the ultimate price for us, He has done the unthinkable and given up His own life to see us set free. He didn’t set us free to go back to the darkness and self-centeredness that He saved us from! What kind of thanks is that? What kind of example is that, for me to say “I’m a Christian!” but then immediately turn around and start cowering in the presence of my failures, of my mistakes, of my past screw-ups? How am I different, how are you different, if you haven’t realized just what it means to be set free?

This is how I am choosing to be different; if God can use my story, my mistakes, my failures, then why can He not also use the successes, the victories, His successes and victories in my life?

I must come to terms with the fact that Christ came to save me, a broken, screwed up human being who can’t even meet her own standards of “goodness,” not just the “good people” who I seem to think have already arrived at their destination in God’s plan for them, when in reality they’re struggling with something, too. To come to terms with this, I must conquer my fear of my failures and mistakes, and to conquer these things, I need to begin to see how God is choosing to use my experiences to make me into the person He wants me to be.

And I challenge you to do the same; do not fear your past. Christ’s love doesn’t care how awful you think you are. Christ’s love simply takes you from who you were and transforms you into who you will be. And I think that’s incredibly freeing.