About 40 of my peers and I filled my campus minister’s home last week for our End of Year Party. Despite the surprisingly chilly temps we enjoyed some time outside playing corn hole or croquet or football or chasing Mavis (minister’s one year old, yet still a puppy, black lab) as she stole croquet balls. We had enjoyed bbq and chips and too many desserts and now we were going to listen to one senior and two RUF interns say their farewells.
While I sat tucked into the comfy couch next to my best friend, with my boyfriend sitting on the floor with his back on my knees I was overwhelmed by how many different feelings I have had or emotional states I have been in throughout the years while sitting in that very spot.
While sitting in that living room I have been incredibly bitter with God, livid at how things in my life were not going as I planned; I have been joyful while laughing about the silly and awkward things that happen everyday with other senior girls who, like me, pretend we have stuff together when we don’t actually; I have been sad, the type of sad that borrows into your gut and tries to set up shop and never leave, as I prayed over the struggles of close friends; I have been shocked as I read the Word and continued to learn new things from passages I had written off as common sense a long time ago; I have been intensely jealous as I listened to people talk about careers and engagements, desperately longing for their stories to be my stories sooner rather than later. In essence, a cruise down memory lane occurred.
This cruise was interrupted by my three friends beginning to share their stories. Each was wonderful and I could go on and on about the lessons they have to share for everyone with a pulse but there was one thing that was said that struck me more powerfully than others. Caroline is a one of the interns for RUF and has worked in Bowling Green from the past 3 years. She was telling the group about her experience at intern training 3 years ago. She explained that all of the girl interns were gathered in a circle and asked to share what their greatest fears were for the intern experience. Some talked about the struggles of fundraising, others talked about not being married by the end of the internship. Caroline explained that her greatest fear was that the sanctification process during the internship would hurt too bad.
Time slowed, and I thought of this pending post. ( I really did.) I am supposed to share my expectations of the race and I’ve been struggling to describe them. Caroline explained my worst fear right in front of me.
If sanctification sounds like an archaic and strange word… that’s because it is. However, it is a beautiful word. Sanctification, in abridged form, is the process of living as a Christian; day in and day out, we learn more about our sinful nature, but, there is a wonderful and glorious hope because at the same time we learn more about the graciousness of God through His Son. With this understanding, we strive to live more obediently to God. We will never ever ever live perfectly, but due to the grace that has been extended to me, it is fitting to do great things for the one who has offered me this. For your viewing pleasure, see diagram below. (Courtesy of Google images.)
But this will be sanctification on steroids.
I’m pretty sure this process is going to hurt.
I’m pretty sure God is going to stretch me. A lot.
I am sure that I will experience more joy than I can imagine.
I am sure the more I am stretched the more I can grow in the grace of God.
So that’s what I expect: sanctification that both scares me and exhilarates.
