“I’m starting to think that maybe God doesn’t like me. . .”
One afternoon, I had the opportunity (although severely under-qualified from a professional standpoint – and apparently perfectly qualified through God’s standpoint) to provide spiritual counseling for high-school students. They were having a career day, and there were different classrooms for them to go into to learn about different careers. Pastor Musonda (our contact for the month) and our team had a room for students seeking spiritual advice or prayer. As we sat in the classroom, each of us using school desks as conversation tables of sorts, students trickled in and sat across from the next available World Racers.
It was quite an awkward experience at first, determining how to get conversations started. (“What did you come in for?” “Do you have questions or prayer requests?”) As is common so far this month, we received almost no briefing prior to arriving, and only knew we were going to a high school to “encourage and pray with students.”
Some of the questions were humorous, like where a student should go to school if they wanted to be an accountant (“I’m not a professional, so I’m not sure what’s available in Zambia. Have you talked to a guidance counselor?”), or how one could get girls to stop following them (another teammate had the great honor of answering that one). Others didn’t have any questions, and only wanted prayer or wanted to talk to the pastor. There were also questions that weren’t humorous at all, and were in fact very sincere questions (not to question the sincerity others) – questions that were both a challenge and privilege to answer.
I wish so strongly that I could remember his name, but I want to recount a great conversation I had with a specific student. . .
[Activate Story Mode]
As a younger looking boy approached, we smiled at each other, and he slumped down in the chair opposite me in a sort of disheveled, exasperated way. As I told him “Hello,” I already knew I liked this young guy. He carelessly dropped his backpack to the floor, and it lightly bumped the desk between us.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
“No problem” I said, smiling. “What’s your name?”
“Joshua.” (Placeholder, to protect the. . . forgetful.)
“Hi Joshua. My name is Arden. It’s nice to meet you.” We shook hands, and Joshua smiled, seemingly genuinely happy to meet me. “What grade are you in?”
“Tenth.”
“Do you know what you want to do after school?”
“I want to be a pilot, but I don’t think my parents can afford it. So I’m thinking maybe a teacher.” Joshua clearly didn’t love the idea of being a teacher, looking down as he named the ladder career choice.
“Well,” I started, “one thing I can tell you is that you don’t have to worry about figuring it out right away. I’m 25, and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life.” Joshua smirked. “I mean, obviously, I’m a missionary for this year, but I don’t know what I’m doing afterward.”
“Well, I’m really feeling quite pressured to figure it out.” He said with a hint of anxiety in his voice, leaning forward. “I really want o be a pilot, but I don’t think my parents can afford it. I don’t know how to talk them about it.
“I’m really feeling quite discouraged. I’ve tried going to church, but it seems like every time I go, things go from bad to worse.” Joshua looked down again, and raised his hands to hold his head up in frustration, propping his elbows on the desk. “I’m starting to think that maybe God doesn’t like me, and that He doesn’t . . .” In the noisy room, Joshua’s trailing voice became buried by the other ongoing conversations. Although I didn’t hear the rest of what he said, I could understand the point of what he might be feeling, and didn’t dare ask him to repeat himself in such a vulnerable moment.
Almost immediately, God revealed some truths in my spirit about this young man sitting across from me, so I began speaking them out.
“First of all . . .” Joshua looked up at me, and I held eye contact with him. “It’s not true that God doesn’t like you. God loves you so much, and He has big plans for you.” Joshua’s troubled expression began to lighten as I continued. “And do you know what? You feeling like God doesn’t like you is just the devil trying to discourage you, because he is afraid of you. He knows God has big plans for you, and he’s trying to tell you lies to make you afraid. But don’t listen to the lies.
“Jesus loves you SO much that he died for you. The Bible says that even though we were sinners, Christ died for us.” I glanced over at my Bible while saying this, and briefly placed my hand on it before returning my eyes to his. “Now I don’t want you to think about Christ dying for US, but I want you to start believing that God loves YOU so much that He sent His son to die for YOU.” I gently poked Joshua with the finger I was extending toward his chest. Something clearly clicked in his mind, because he broke into a smile.
“As for the plans God has for you,” I continued, “I can’t tell you if God wants you to be a pilot or not. He hasn’t told me.” A silent, breathy laugh slipped out of Joshua’s smiling face. “But if God wants you to be a pilot, He will make a way. I know He will.
“I know this because the only way I’m sitting in front of you right now is because He did the same thing for me. This trip I’m on is very expensive, and there was no way I could afford to go. But God provided. So don’t worry about the money. Worry about God’s plan for you.” From there, I encouraged Joshua to just start pursuing something, and trust that God would lead him as he continued walking forward. Still smiling, Joshua nodded with understanding.
“I’d love to pray for you.” I said smiling back. “Can I pray for you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry; can you remind me of your name? I’ve already forgotten.”
“Joshua.” (No, I didn’t just magically remember. . . still a placeholder name.)
“Joshua, that’s right! Sorry, I’m so bad with names,” I admitted.
“It’s okay, I am too.”
“Oh, good, then there’s something we have in common!” We shared a laugh. “Okay, let me pray for you. . .”
After I prayed, intentionally using his name throughout the prayer, I felt led to ask him one more question.
“Joshua, do you believe that Jesus is your Lord and Savior?”
“Yes, but I have stopped pursuing Him for some time.”
“Would you like to rededicate your life to Him today?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Okay,” I smiled, “well let’s pray one more time. You can just repeat after me.”
This time, I grabbed Joshua’s hands, and we prayed again, Joshua repeating words of rededication and reliance on God. As we finished praying, I gently squeezed Joshua’s hands, and looked back up at him.
“Thank you for coming to talk to me today, Joshua. Remember, God has big plans for you. If I told any of my friends with me today about you, they would all agree with me.”
By this point, Joshua’s entire posture was lighter, and his small frame seemed taller. He grabbed a flyer I had on my desk for Pastor Musonda’s church, stood up, and while slinging his backpack over his back, flashed a big smile and said, “Thank you, this has been most informative.” I smiled back, nodded in agreement, and Joshua turned to walk out of the room.
