Archive for the ‘What would Jesus do?’ Category

College was a unique experience, or depending on who you’re asking, maybe not so “unique”.

The transition from high school to college was a big one. I went from being a big fish in a small pond, to being a small fish in a big pond. I was no longer one of the smart kids at school. I had become “average” overnight. I received my first “F” on an exam in the history of my educational career, and received my first “C” and eventually “D” for a class, which was a HUGE blow to my confidence. And all of that was happening while studying harder than I had ever studied IN MY LIFE.

From an athletic standpoint, despite my being labeled as the #1 recruit for Bucknell’s soccer team, I found myself sitting on the bench faster than I could lace up my cleats. The athletes were bigger, faster, and meaner than I had ever seen. Division I was no joke. I didn’t know people could shoot so hard.

And then there was the social scene…

High school was great. I made First Team All-State despite Frederick High School’s notoriety for being brawlers, not soccer players. I was in the top 10% of our class academically, taking AP classes galore. I was in tight with our principal, and had plenty of attention from a popularity standpoint. To illustrate the point, for homecoming my junior year in high school, I found myself in a situation where my best friend and I were interested in the same girl.  Unbeknownst to each other’s proposals, we had both asked her to the dance. It was only a matter of time before we found out of each other’s mutual interest in her, and when she was slow to make a decision on who she was going to choose, we decided to drop her, and instead take four of the hottest girls we could find as our dates. We succeeded.

But when I got to Bucknell, that whole landscape had changed.

I was a nobody.

I had to rediscover myself all over again. For some people, this was a blessing. For me, it was a curse. For those who were a nobody in high school, they had the opportunity to become somebody because they had a clean slate. But for me, I had to reprove myself all over again. And my entire freshman year was about reproving myself to others, as well as to myself.

Then I had my big break. One day, my RA (resident assistant) came up to me and personally invited me to a big party his fraternity was hosting. It was one of their biggest parties of the year – Hawaiian Night. And this wasn’t just any fraternity…this was THE fraternity, and they had a reputation for having the best parties with the hottest chicks. Anybody who was somebody got invited to their events. I quickly called up my buddies from the soccer team to see if they had been invited as well. A few of them had.

The night of the party, we all got ready together while listening to music in our dorm rooms. We were excited and nervous at the same time – it was a rush.

You could hear the life of the party as we neared the fraternity house. The line was long, but we waited with anticipation as we heard the pounding woofers blaring from the house. And as we got closer and closer to the doorstep, we could feel our hearts pounding out of our shirts in sync with the beat.

Get out!

You’re not on the F’in list!

We all looked up with bewilderment as we watched a group of guys getting denied at the door. Ryan, Rob, and I looked at each other in terror as we watched several fraternity brothers crowd around as bouncers, practically pushing the kids off of the porch.

Would we be on the list? Of course we would…we were personally invited by Justin who was secretary of the house. But what if we weren’t? The three of us started to panic.

What’s your name?

One by one, the three of us gave our names as we watched intensely as he scanned down his tablet of sacred names, hoping to have our name scratched off the list. He flipped the page…still no sign of our names. He flipped another page…still no names. And when he reached the end of the list, he looked up and said politely,

Sorry guys. You’re not on the list. We don’t know you.

In a last ditch effort to reclaim our night, we protested by explaining how we were invited by Justin. “He’s my RA!”. It didn’t matter though. The list was the list, and they didn’t make exceptions (at least not for freshmen guys).

Having witnessed the scene moments before, we decided to leave quickly and quietly. We didn’t want to make matters worse than they already were. So we kicked rocks as we walked back to our dorms, venting and vowing that we would never be like that one day – JERKS!

But as I read Matthew 7:21-23 and prepared our Lifegroup for this study, I couldn’t help but think about my experience in college.

“Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’  Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you.  Away from me, you evildoers!'”

– Matthew 7:21-23

I can just see myself now…

“but God…I led a Lifegroup for years, and I volunteered all the time for our church. I attended every church service I could attend…and I even raised my hands when I worshiped. Anyone will tell you, I have a great reputation – they know I love you. They’ve even told me how inspired they were by my passion for you…Remember? I was even on the big screen promoting Axis Young Adults for our church during Easter weekend! How can you say you don’t know me?”

It’s a scary thought…to get to the door of eternal life and find out you’re not on the list. It’s scary to think that I could be that guy who thought he was on the list, but God will say

I never knew you.

Away from me, you evildoers!

That’s the christian way of saying, “Get off of my F’in porch!”

Ouch!

Tuesday night’s message was a good reminder that we shouldn’t get too comfortable in thinking we are good to go.

In a message to the church in Sardis (Revelation 3:1-6), they are reminded and warned of the consequences for faking their faith. They may have started out on fire and passionate…and that’s probably where they developed a “reputation of being alive”; but the reality was that they were actually dead in their faith.

This week, I came across this video by Francis Chan, and it was hilariously yet frighteningly on point with how we view ourselves and our calling in life. Is it possible that this group of people is who God was talking to when He said “you are dead”?

Are these “Christians” faking it? Do you or I ever “fake” our Christianity?

Consider this – there are times when we have to fake it. For example, we may not “feel” like worshiping God one day, so we don’t want to raise our hands in worship. Do it anyway. We may not “feel” like praying for weeks at a time. Do it anyway. We may not want to serve and help others in need. Do it anyway.

Fake it till you make it.

The statement doesn’t just read, “Fake it”…there’s a second half of that statement that is vital…”till you make it”. Being authentic in your faith doesn’t mean that you don’t do things you don’t feel like doing…it often means that you do.


He struck again.

I was just about to pull out of my neighborhood when I saw the dark unmarked “Commander” zooming down the road in my direction from the left hand side. I had one of those split second conversations in my head, trying to determine whether or not I should pull out in front, or if I should just let him go first.

My car jerked to a stop as I waited patiently for the officer to drive by. Although I couldn’t be sure, I was fairly certain it was my “good friend” MD State Trooper, officer Sasse.

I turned my head to the side, hoping he wouldn’t recognize my face in a new car. I had just bought a new (black) sports car two months prior, and was hoping to go unnoticed by him for as long as possible.

I nearly turned right after he passed, but at the last second, decided to turn left and take a loop around the neighborhood before making my way to work. The last time I pulled in behind him from this very spot, he decided to pull me over for an illegal window tint (which was actually the legal Maryland limit of 35%).

The truth is this time, I hadn’t affixed the front tag onto the bumper yet, and I didn’t want to give this guy any reason to pull me over.

I bought myself about five minutes as I looped around the neighborhood. When I got onto 144, the “Commander” was no where to be seen. Traffic was unusually dense though.

I was on the phone with my buddy Curt, talking him through the events that just occurred. Then, as I came down the hill over the ridge, I saw him parked in the Park & Ride. He was out of his car, placing what looked to be tickets on cars that were for sale in the lot.

Oh my gosh! There he is!

I exclaimed to Curt as I desribed was Officer Sasse was doing.

It was at that moment that Officer Sasse looked up in my direction. It was as if he heard me from within my car, about 100 yards away.

Could he have seen me? Did he recognize me? I reasoned with myself that it was not likely, especially since I was driving a new car. Besides, he couldn’t possibly have recognized me from that far away. I was just being paranoid.

Traffic was a crawl, and by the time I got closer to the light, it had turned red.

I’m not sure what compelled me to turn my head to the right at that moment, but when I did, I noticed the front of an unmarked car that was lurking behind some trees that divided the road I was on with the Park & Ride.

What the crap! Is that him? How in the world could that be him? I just saw him out of his car 30 seconds ago!

Curt was just listening to my rants as I communicated my observations. I slowly turned my head back to the traffic in front of me, hoping not to draw attention to myself.

Moments later, the “Commander” pulled out from behind the trees and zoomed ahead in the right hand lane that would ordinarily spit him out onto I-70 going eastbound.

I’m either being paranoid, and he didn’t see me, or he’s just zoomed by getting ready to pull me over up ahead.

The traffic light seemed longer than usual. From what I could tell, the light had turned green, but the cars in front of me weren’t moving. Break lights started flickering, and the cars in front began to crawl. As I inched forward, I realized why.

Officer Sasse had parked his car and gotten out of his vehicle to start waving cars, one-by-one, through the traffic light. When he got to my car, he pointed at me with his accusing finger and waved me to pull over behind his car.

Well, you’re not going to believe this Curt, but he just pulled me over.

Good morning officer. How are you doing?

I said with as pleasant a voice as I could muster up.

I’m working.

I muzzled an “I can see that” under my breath as I reached for my license and registration.

“I noticed you didn’t have your front tags” he said in his smug tone.

“I’m really sorry about that officer” I said. “I just bought this car recently and the previous owner didn’t have the front tag affixed. I’ve been meaning to install it, but admittedly, it just hasn’t been much of a priority for me. I’m really sorry about that. It’s actually in the trunk, and if you have a screwdriver, I would be happy to put it on for you right now if you’d like”

“Can you show me that it’s in your trunk” he asked. No doubt he was hoping to catch me in a lie.

“Absolutely. Let me show you.” With that, I got out of my car, popped my trunk, and pulled out the bracket with plate.

“Hold on.” Officer Sasse took my bracket, license and registration with him to his car and started his routine. I called the Benz to alert her of my misfortune and asked for prayer.

Officer Sasse came back with a fine of $60. “MVL #13-411 (a) “Fail to Attach Plates at Front & Rear”.

I let him run through his spiel about the ticket and fine and right to go to court, and when he was finished, he asked if I had any questions.

Have you heard of Church of the Redeemer? You should check it out sometime.

Officer Sasse looked at me kind of funny (or at least with a little pause), and then he referred back to the ticket as if I had never said anything.

I’m being serious. I would love to have you come check out Church of the Redeemer with me sometime.

This time, he was more equipped for my comment.

We’re not talking about that.

I clearly wasn’t getting through. So I tried a different approach.

Sir, I just don’t understand why you have the need to pull me over repeatedly for stupid things. I don’t think it’s commonplace to pull the same person over on the same road multiple times within the span of a few months.

Eager to jump in say something important, officer Sasse responded with a,

Well actually, there’s this one guy who I’ve pulled over 5 or 6 times within that same time frame. I don’t know what his problem is. But anyway…

I was slightly caught off guard. I bit my lip as I refrained from muttering a “maybe his problem is YOU” comment.

The thing is (I continued), I don’t understand what you have against me. I know it’s not common to be pulled over for these types of things. But it’s clear that you have a thing for giving me a hard time.

I could tell he didn’t like where I was going with this.

I’m not giving you a hard time. I’ve seen a history of these registration violations, and that’s why I’m pulling you over. When you turned right out of your neighborhood, and when I looked in my rear view mirror, I noticed that you didn’t have a front tag. That’s why I pulled you over.

What a liar! Unbelievable. I wasn’t going to let him go that easy. In as calm a voice as I could muster, I said,

Sir, I never turned a right out of my neighborhood. I turned a left. So you couldn’t have seen me in your rear view mirror to notice that I didn’t have a license plate on the front. I realize that I screwed up this time with not having a front tag, but as I told you, I just bought this car and…

A play by play of the Officer Sasse's hunt

Officer Sasse cut in again,

Yeah. I noticed you had a new car when I drove by you. I saw you were on the phone, and I thought to myself, ‘looks like he got a new car’.

This was my chance to bring the point home.

You see. That’s the point. You weren’t concerned about my tag, you just wanted to give me a hard time. You recognized me in a new car, and you jumped at the opportunity to pull me over. But for what? I know you’re technically just doing your job, but I know you have more important things to be doing than pull me over all the time.

I’m being serious, you should really come check out my church sometime. Seriously.

As those words came out of my mouth, I could hear the tone. It wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t quite the message I was trying to convey.

I have a church that I go to” he said.

I jumped in. “That’s great! Where do you go?”

I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about this ticket. If you would like to contest this fine, you have a right to take me to court.

I was losing him. He was missing my point. Or maybe he was just trying to avoid it.

I got it” I said. Maybe I will take you to court, or maybe I won’t, and I’ll just pay the fine. But listen, the reason I keep bringing up my church is this. If you actually knew me…if you actually took the time to get to know me, you would find that I’m not the guy you think I am. I know that you see my criminal background, and you don’t like it. To be honest, I don’t like it either. But there’s nothing I can do about that right now. What I am doing is trying to make things right.

If you came to my church, I think you would have an opportunity to actually see me for who I  really am. I’m pretty involved and I actually lead a small group of people my age in bible studies. That’s why I keep bringing it up. All I’m asking for is a little grace. There’s no need to keep fining me for little things. I’m sure you have a screwdriver in your car. I would be more than happy to put that tag on the bumper right now and get this over with.

With an emotionless, stoic expression he said, “You can take care of that once you get to work.”

He wasn’t budging. I was getting that ticket, and there was no question about it. “Listen. I meant what I said. I would strongly encourage you to come check out my church some time.”

With that, he walked away from my car and went his way.

It’s ironic. This past week I taught on Contentment, no matter where you are in life, and no matter what comes your way. Looks like I’m having to heed my own advice and sermon.

To be honest, I don’t think this guy is going to let up. Some people say that maybe he actually took pause that day to reconsider his actions. Call me a pessimist, but I don’t think it did much of anything. But I am starting to view this whole harassment-by-a-Maryland-State-Trooper-who-lives-in-my-neighborhood thing as a witnessing opportunity. Maybe he will never come to my church. Maybe he’ll never see me in the light that the people who know me see me. But maybe, over the course of a dozen fines and tickets, he’ll come to know Christ for the very first time in his life.

Thank you God for this opportunity (I’m not being facetious).

God-of-second-chances

I wonder what this guy’s story is. Is he just some random person who thought this was a cool quote? Does he make it a habit of carrying around his camera while he’s riding his motorcycle and just pull over along the side of the road, having his photo taken by these signs? Or is there significance to him being in the picture? Why is he holding his helmet? Did he stare death in the face and escape an accident that could have cost him his life? Did God give him a second chance?

I couldn’t help but think about my own experience. I didn’t stare death in the face…not the way this guy might have, but I did wish for a second chance once.

If only she knew how sorry I was, then she would be able to forgive me. If only she understood the pain I had on my heart, I know she could work past the fact that I cheated on her. I just needed her to be in my shoes, to be in my head…then she could know that I would never do such a thing ever again. There IS such a thing as making a mistake and learning from it. It was just the one time.

Why wouldn’t she believe me? Why wouldn’t she forgive me? Why wouldn’t she give me a second chance?

I fell into a deep depression coma once I was arrested that fateful June day. I’m pretty sure I cried every single day, several hours a day, for the next two weeks as I wasted away in that Jail cell in Wyoming. I literally couldn’t eat for days. I had never cared so little about eating in my life. In fact, I would have welcomed death at that point…and I would have welcomed death for the next year of my life. Maybe even two. Just ask my family.

Once I was released from jail and on bond, I remember driving the streets at night and being hypnotized by the methodical street lights as I passed them by, thinking to myself, fantasizing to myself, hoping that a drunk driver would appear and swerve into my lane and kill me instantly in a head on collision. I used to come up with elaborate movie scene worthy scenarios of cars crashing and flipping as I tumbled to my death, putting me out of my misery. Life just simply wasn’t worth living if I couldn’t be with Michaela.

There was no excuse for my actions. I knew that. I did the unthinkable. I did one of the most hurtful things anybody could ever do to their lover. I cheated. And to really make it a hard pill to swallow, I was arrested for attempting to do it with a minor – a minor that was the same age as her kid sister. Who does that? Who could be so sick and twisted and…

I hated myself for a very long time. I wondered the same things about myself that she did.

She tried to make it work. She didn’t officially break up with me for another four or five months. That was when she finally called it quits. She just couldn’t get past it. There was too much doubt. Too much pain. Too much hurt. Too much deceit. Even if it was just one lie, it was one lie too many. One lie caused her to question our whole relationship. It caused her to question my whole character. I had destroyed the trust between us, and nothing that came out of my mouth could ever be believed again…at least not by her. It was crazy how one act, one single moment in time could destroy two and half years of character building proof. Just one mistake.

I understood it though. I deserved it. I made my bed, and now I had to lie in it. This was the beginning of one of the toughest lessons I have ever had to learn – there are consequences for our actions, and sometimes those consequences change the picture completely…forever.

But from where I was standing, the perspective was so different. I knew I would never hurt her like that again. My eyes had been opened. I now knew that I was capable of being a destroyer, of being a monster, and I was committed to never letting that happen again. All I wanted was a second chance. All I wanted was for her to forgive me…to truly forgive me, and to pretend like it had never happened. I just wanted her to see how much I could love her, how much I could right the wrong that I did, to prove to her through my actions that if she would give me that chance, she would never regret it for the rest of her life.

But I never got that second chance. Those were reserved for fairy tales and cheesy romantic comedies and dramas, but that wasn’t real life. That wasn’t my reality.

I wouldn’t change the course of events now that I’m removed from it and six years have passed. I now see how God turned the ugliest thing in my life and turned it into something good, and there’s something beautiful about His work when He does that. He surprises us by creating a masterpiece when we hand Him the paintbrush and allow Him to finish the disaster that we started.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. – Romans 8:28

With that said, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if she had given me a second chance.