"Turn Left Ahead." Take this Job." "Avoid crazy girl approaching" and of course "Arriving at Destination." ah, Destination, the journey's end. I have always been more about the where than the why. Maybe it's because I can get car sick even if I am driving. Maybe it's because getting there takes work, and I would rather avoid work. Maybe getting there takes pain, and I assume I have had enough of that for one lifetime. Maybe it's because the journey is about growth, and growth implies that one is getting stronger and better. And maybe for too long I saw myself as unworthy of being better.
Whatever the case, I am slowly learning to look around me and enjoy the view, enjoy the journey, and even enjoy the pain and growth, and maybe even to accept the fact of my worth. The thing that makes any destination, any journey, and really any thing worth the effort is the people you are traveling with.
God has underscored my journey, my growth, and my worth three times in the last five weeks. Each time He did so at a camp. Each time he used the people who have stood along side me.
Whatever the case, I am slowly learning to look around me and enjoy the view, enjoy the journey, and even enjoy the pain and growth, and maybe even to accept the fact of my worth. The thing that makes any destination, any journey, and really any thing worth the effort is the people you are traveling with.
God has underscored my journey, my growth, and my worth three times in the last five weeks. Each time He did so at a camp. Each time he used the people who have stood along side me.
September 24-26 was a crazy weekend for me. Here at Alliance, we hosted a Men's Advance (cause guys retreat enough on their own). A thousand little moments that weekend, some good, some bad, some big, some minuscule, some echoing faith that can move mountains, some that I am smart enough not to commit to writing, all led to the Saturday night sermon.
The cliff notes version is that men in this country are absent. Fathers in this country are absent. Boys do not have a ceremony, a time, a rite, where someone sits them down and tells them what it means to be a man. Where someone sits them down ans tells them that they are a man. At the end of the service, an invitation was sent for those who felt the need to mark the truth of being a man, and even more than that being a man of God was extended. The other men in the room came forward and prayed over us.
I am a 33 year old guy (no longer a boy, but never embracing my manhood), who was raised from the age of 12 by a single mother. The idea of having someone speak those words to me (and don't get me wrong, my mom is awesome, and there have been a thousand father figures in my life, I have learned from the church what being a man is) as a novel concept isn't horribly shocking.
What is shocking, what is appalling, is that to my left and my right, and filling three rows behind me sat men who had never had this done for them. Men in their 30s as well. And men in their 40s, and 50s, and 60s. How the hell does the church allow someone to become a grandfather, yet the idea of marking their time from boyhood to manhood is a new one to them? How has the Church, how have we as men, failed the body, how have we failed each other? Let's hit pause for a second, because I want to come back to this, but first I need to explain what was happening in me that night.
That night I was healed. That night all of the zip-lines, and sea cave kayaking, and ski lessons, and movie nights, and simple words of encouragement, all my time at ARCG, all my time in CM at Grace, all my time at Simpson, all the encouragement of friends and family over my 33 years, finally made sense, complete and total sense. I saw fully (or at least more fully, cause grace isn't a concept I will fully unpack in this lifetime) the person others had seen in me. I was commissioned by man that night, but my spirit was spoken to by God.
He told me that I was a man, and that I no longer needed to serve as broken and lonely, but that He had made me into a man of God, a man with gifts, talents, and passions that would be able to reach out to the men, the guys, and the boys I so desperately want to tell of the wonders of grace. I now no longer serve being able to only put my arm around those I serve, and share in their pain. I now can help them up to where I am. I can pull them up, because God has made me whole, and I stand above, not better than, but healed.
That day my son, I became a man.
--Serving Him alongside all of you, just from further away--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau
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