When God Destroyed Me

There are plenty of times that I don’t feel qualified for doing student ministry (most times if I’m honest). The longer I stick around working with students the older I feel, the less I know, and the more things I realize that I’m not any good at. I’m not just talking about Instagram or Twitter but simple stuff, like retreat registrations and emails. Sometimes I marvel at all the ways that I don’t fit the job description that I would write for myself.

And then…

There are days like today. As I was running this evening (all my best thoughts come while running or hiking) I was overcome by the prayer requests of one of my students. There were so many similarities between this student’s story and mine. I ached in prayer for the Lord to move in and reveal truth and heal hurts. My body physically hurt (probably helped by the fact I hadn’t run in a few days) with emotion. It was as if my entire being was crying out in prayer (minus actual words).

And I was reminded of something from years ago…

I have always had a strong empathetic reflex. Even before I became a Christ-follower I would often be struck by severe pangs of pain, sorrow, and joy over the concerns of others. I remember one such encounter that left me ruined. I was at a Halloween party and a friend’s house (I didn’t have many friends). I didn’t know anyone at the party besides the host and so I awkwardly mingled my way around, upstairs, downstairs, outside. I watched as the other guests watched The Lost Boys in the basement and I felt an overwhelming, palpable darkness and despair. I had to leave the room. I made my way outside (it was somewhat warm for October) into the backyard. The host’s mother had a converted school bus out back. To this day I remember watching the adolescent lust as couple after couple circled off in the backyard to give away parts of themselves they would never get back. I briefly entered the bus to find the seats nearly full with other teens. I remember the darkness. My chest felt like it was caving in. I sat down beside the bus and sobbed silent tears. I felt destroyed at the brokenness and despair of the strangers who surrounded me.

Perhaps, God was preparing me. Perhaps He has designed this reaction in me to keep me from being judgmental or distant. Perhaps His desire is to break me to the point where all I can do is to cry out to Him in prayer.

Most often, that’s I can do.