Confessions of a Junior.

Ahhh, junior year. The year that was least liked in high school (from the few opinions I've heard) and definitely has a peculiar vibe to it. The hype of freshman and sophomore years (yes, sophomore year included--at APU at least, the hype definitely does not wear off by that point) is gone. College has a sense of normalcy to it, a sense that I personally am not too fond of and have struggled to be okay with. Yet it's not quite the end of your college career; you have a little less than half of your undergrad ahead of you, so you can't fully prepare to move on yet.

As it goes with any relationship, friendship, or anything else for that matter--as you get to know someone or spend time somewhere the honeymoon phase eventually comes to an end. You begin to see the flaws and are left with a choice to make: you can bail because you don't want to deal with the imperfections or you can choose to stick it out.

When life reaches a sense of normalcy it is then that we need to be the most careful. Complacency is quick to follow normalcy if one is not aware of it. Normalcy is one thing--in and of itself it is not necessarily bad. Complacency, on the other hand, is a bad thing. It can make you content with where you are at, cause you to quit pursuing growth, and make you lazy.

This morning I went to Foothill Church and the lead pastor preached a message concluding "The Church is..." series that they have been doing. The title of the message was, "...on a mission." Preaching out of Matthew 28:18-20 where Jesus calls the disciples to "go forth and make disciples of all nations", the point was that we always have purpose wherever we go. My previous blog post touched on this topic, the idea that God's purpose for you is the reason you're alive. Pastor Chris's sermon, however, focused more on the fact that our lives are our ministry. It's funny how we're willing to go across the world to some third-world country and do "crazy things for God" yet when we come home to the culture and country that is familiar to us we all of a sudden become complacent or are afraid to do "crazy things for God". We even find a way to justify it: "I can't do those things here, Americans aren't the same...", "Americans aren't as accepting...", "I'll be judged...", "I'll lose what means most to me...", etc.

Let me be the first to say that I am completely guilty of this. I myself struggle to live differently in the States yet I know that I can go abroad and (it is much easier to) live simply, lovingly, and selflessly. I am not saying that going abroad isn't a good thing--it is definitely a good thing and many are in fact called to the nations. What we need to quit doing, however, is separating the two. God is as present in America as He is anywhere else. God's Kingdom can be here, there, and anywhere! There should be a fluid continuity between the two; the life I live in Africa shouldn't be any different from the life I live in America.

As a fellow struggler amongst the majority I give you permission to keep me accountable of this. Don't be afraid to ask how things are going. I want that kind of accountability and I think we all need it.

Live counter-culturally.

Live Kingdom-minded.


Live your life as your ministry, 'cause it is.

One hour. Literally crazy.

It's 1:45 a.m. as I write this. In a little over an hour I'll be meeting up with the rest of my team (I guess that's what they're called) to go to the airport. Shuttles will take us to LAX, we'll spend however long checking in and going through customs, and then our flight will leave at 7:30 a.m. We fly from Los Angeles to D.C., then to Johannesburg, South Africa with a stopover in Senegal (in West Africa). It's all so weird. So weird.

Today was unreal. We had orientation from 8:30 to 2:30, which was all-around strange. It got me excited for Africa but at the same time made me extremely anxious; it wasn't a bad anxious, just... anxious. That feeling of being in anticipation, of being in waiting. Our commissioning service was at 4:30, which was overwhelming but so good. Because I'm attending a university significantly far from home, my family couldn't make it to the service; having a myriad of college friends nearly made up for it though. You generally don't realize the love and support that you have until something like this happens. "You never know what you've got until it's gone" could not ring more true. My appreciation for APU and my friendships here has grown, and I can only hope that I've left some sort of impact in my short year and a half here so far. I'm grateful to have two more years after this. But for now... Africa. That's my focus.

Although I can somewhat pinpoint the ways in which I want to be changed, I have this feeling (and I've been told) that my expectations will be blown away; I'll be challenged in ways that I won't expect. I will grow in ways that I do not see coming. But for that I cannot wait.

There's nothing like the semi-awkward initial interactions you have with people. As I walked into the venue where our orientation was held and looked around at the 50 or so people that I will be spending the next four months of my life with, I said, "This is it." I've heard nothing but amazing things about the people I'm going with. To experience it for myself, though, is one of the many things I am excited for. To no longer simply hear about the people I'm going with but to experience it first-hand. I feel blessed already.

One hour and seven minutes. Definitely not getting sleep tonight. But that's okay. 26 hours on a plane will provide plenty of time to sleep. It's gonna be a crazy trip!

Well, here we go! Goodbye America, hello Africa.

Hello, Africa. Woah.