The Person I Want To Be

I was walking across campus, my ear throbbing from an infection, my nose dripping. I had just stayed up til midnight the night before working on papers, trying desperately to catch up on things I had let slide. In all fairness, the majority of the day was spent staring at a blank page or trying to find anything to distract myself. And now I was walking like a zombie, loaded up on NyQuil, not quite fully present, but not absent either.

That’s when I ran into PJ. PJ and I had a class together first quarter. She had struggled to adjust to seminary life and I had attended a study session with her where I shared a lot of the study tips that I learned in undergrad. Concepts about canon, and infallibility, and how faith and Bible study must build each other up, but one of the most important lessons was learning what you don’t need to read. She would spend the day in class, go to work after, come home to her young son, not to mention whatever other church work she was volunteering for, and after all of that she would spend hours reading over the articles and books that were assigned for class. The advice I gave was apparently profound, but at the time I thought it was just a clever form of laziness. I said, “don’t do all the reading.” It’s simple. If you’ve got that much on your plate, you need to recognize the bare minimum that you can get away with in these classes and that’s what you do. At least until you can find a more permanent solution.

When I saw PJ she asked “how has your quarter been?” And I hesitantly shared that I had been phoning it in all quarter, struggling to balance my life, my work, my school, and my sanity. She volleyed the same advice I had given her in the Fall. She reminded me about priorities and about grace, and in that moment I was reminded for the millionth time that the Gospel is true, that God loves me, and that I can’t earn His grace.

I’ve been given life, and life abundantly, a life so full of blessings and gifts that I simply can’t hold them all, and they overflow. But I’m in the weird-happy of trying to keep everything inside, rather than letting the abundance pour over me.

I want to be that person. I want to be the person who is acutely aware of the amazingness of each breath. I want to be the person who always puts God first. The person who always prioritizes my family. I want to dedicate my mind to studying the Scriptures, and dedicate my body to living them out. I want so badly to be this person.


And so as PJ was talking, I felt the tears start to build their pressure behind my eyes. I don’t cry, my eyes just start to swell a bit. I’m not one to let out tears. But there’s something powerful about hearing the Gospel again in such a small quiet moment. In my groggy crawl to the library on a gloomy Wednesday morning, God draws up the things I’d forgotten from only a few months ago. Albeit, there has been a lot that happened in those few months. When I last saw PJ, Kate was still pregnant, I was still a bouncer and a tutor, and I’d gone to Community Church maybe once. A lot has changed. But the Gospel hasn’t.

So if the Gospel is this beautiful gem that we share with others, some people hold onto it so they can admire it, and in the process the gem loses its novelty, and the luster begins to fade. Some people share this gem, they show it to others before putting it back in their pockets for safekeeping. They say the words, but they don’t give up their abundance. And others, they give people the Gospel. They give it freely. They say “don’t worry I’ve got more of these, you take it.” Those people, they wake up in the morning and suddenly find that their satchels are empty. They walk through wet grass in sandals, with a posture that is reminiscent of Charlie Brown, mixed with Eeyore. And they stumble across those people whom they’ve shared that gem with, and in those moments it’s returned to them, with all the luster and novelty that it had at first, and in their heads they hear “reunited, and it feels so goooood.”

I want to be that person. The person who gives the Gospel of Grace freely, just as Christ gave to us. I want to tell everyone so next time I’m trudging around on some idle Wednesday, my chances of finding that thing I’ve lost are far better. I want to be the person who loves, and cares, and gives without worrying if they’ll receive anything in return. I want to be that person.

Maybe you’re reading this, and you’re asking that question, “who do I really want to be?” Maybe you couldn’t care less, because the noise of life has drowned out the beauty of the silent moments, and in between stressful work and complacent numbness you’ve found yourself immersed in apathy. Maybe you’ve forgotten that you get to decide what kind of person you want to be. I know I do. I lose myself in every force that pushes and pulls me in opposing directions. Know that you get to decide. The moment that you recognize the abundant life that God has given you, you’ll realize you have the God given power to make the decision for yourself. And you can stand before God and say,

“This is the person that I want to be.”